"Do you reckon to have a bridle that belongs to that right pretty saddle an' suit of yourn?" he asked.

She cast a swift glance about her and blushed. "Oh," she said; "I have forgotten it! It is in my room!"

"I reckon I'd get it if I was thinkin' of goin' ridin'," he said.

"Some folks seem to think that when you're ridin' a horse a bridle is right handy."

"Well," she said, smiling at him as she went out the stable door; "it has been a long time since I have had these things on, and perhaps I was a little nervous."

At this reference to her past the pulse of pity which he had felt for her before again shot over him. He had seen a quick sadness in her eyes, lurking behind the smile.

"I reckon you've been stayin' in the house too much," he said gruffly.

She hesitated, going out of the door, to look back at him, astonishment and something more subtle glinting her eyes. He saw it and frowned.

"It's twelve miles to the Diamond K," he suggested; "an' twelve back.

If you're figgerin' on ridin' that distance an' takin' time between to look at any cattle mebbe you'd better get a move on."

She was out of the door before he had ceased speaking and in an incredibly short time was back, a little breathless, her face flushed as though she had been running.

He put the bridle on her horse, led it out, and condescended to hold the stirrup for her, a service which she acknowledged with a flashing smile that brought a reluctant grin to his face.

Then, swinging into his own saddle, he urged Blackleg after her, for she had not waited for him, riding down past the ranchhouse and out into the little stretch of plain that reached to the river.

They rode steadily, talking little, for Calumet deliberately kept a considerable distance between them, thus showing her that though courtesy had forced him to accompany her it could not demand that he should also become a mark at which she could direct conversation.

It was noon when they came in sight of the Diamond K ranch buildings.

They were on a wide plain near the river and what gra.s.s there was was sun-scorched and rustled dryly under the tread of their horses' hoofs.

Then Calumet added a word to the few that he had already spoken during the ride.

"I reckon Kelton must have been loco to try to raise cattle in a G.o.d-forsaken hole like this," he said with a sneer.

"That he was foolish enough to do so will result to our advantage," she replied.

"Meanin' what?"

"That we will be able to buy what cattle we want more cheaply than we would were Kelton's range what it should be," she returned, watching his face.

He looked at her vindictively. "You're one of them kind of humans that like to take advantage of a man's misfortune," he said.

"That is all in the viewpoint," she defended. "I didn't bring misfortune to Kelton. And I consider that in buying his cattle I am doing him a favor. I am not gloating over the opportunity--it is merely business."

"Why didn't you offer Kelton the Lazy Y range?" he said with a twisting grin.

She could not keep the triumph out of her voice. "I did," she answered. "He wouldn't take it because he didn't like you--doesn't like you. He told me that he knew you when you were a boy and you weren't exactly his style."

Thus eliminated as a conversationalist, and defeated in his effort to cast discredit upon her, Calumet maintained a sneering silence.

But when they rode up to the Diamond K ranchhouse, he flung a parting word at her.

"I reckon you can go an' talk cattle to your man, Kelton," he said.

"I'm afraid that if he goes ga.s.sin' to me I'll smash his face in."

He rode back to the horse corral, which they had pa.s.sed, to look again at a horse inside which had attracted his attention.

The animal was glossy black except for a little patch of white above the right fore-fetlock; he was tall, rangy, clean-limbed, high-spirited, and as Calumet sat in the saddle near the corral gate watching him he trotted impudently up to the bars and looked him over.

Then, after a moment, satisfying his curiosity, he wheeled, slashed at the gate with both hoofs, and with a snort, that in the horse language might have meant contempt or derision, cavorted away.

Calumet's admiring glance followed him. He sat in the saddle for half an hour, eyeing the horse critically, and at the end of that time, noting that Betty had returned to the ranchhouse with Kelton, probably having looked at some of the stock she had come to see--Calumet had observed on his approach that the cattle corral was well filled with white Herefords--he wheeled Blackleg and rode over to them.

"Mr. Kelton has offered me four hundred head of cattle at a reasonable figure," Betty told him on his approach. "All that remains is for you to confirm it."

"I reckon you're the boss," said Calumet. He looked at Kelton, and evidently his fear that he would "smash" the tatter's face had vanished--perhaps in a desire to possess the black horse, which had seized him.

"I reckon you ain't sellin' that black horse?" he said.

"Cheap," said Kelton quickly.

"How cheap?"

"Fifty dollars."

"I reckon he's my horse," said Calumet. "The boss of the Lazy Y will pay for him when she hands you the coin for your cattle." He scrutinized Kelton's face closely, having caught a note in his voice which had interested him. "Why you wantin' to get rid of the black?"

he questioned.

"He ain't been rode," said Kelton; "he won't be rode. You can back out of that sale now, if you like. But I'm tellin' you the gospel truth.

There ain't no man in the Territory can ride him. Miskell, my regular bronc-buster, is the slickest man that ever forked a horse, an' he's layin' down in the bunkhouse right now, nursin' a leg which that black devil busted last week. An' men is worth more to me than horses right now. I reckon," he finished, eyeing Calumet with a certain vindictiveness, which had undoubtedly lasted over from his acquaintance with the latter in the old days; "that you ain't a heap smart at breakin' broncs, an' you won't want the black now."

"I'm reckonin' on ridin' him back to the Lazy Y," said Calumet.

Kelton grinned incredulously, and Betty looked swiftly at Calumet. For an instant she had half feared that this declaration had been made in a spirit of bravado, and she was prepared to be disagreeably disappointed in Calumet. She told herself when she saw his face, however, that she ought to have known better, for whatever his other shortcomings she had never heard him boast.

And that he was not boasting now was plainly evident, both to her and Kelton. His declaration had been merely a calm announcement of a deliberate purpose. He was as natural now as he had been all along.

She saw Kelton's expression change--saw the incredulity go out of it, observed his face whiten a little.

But his former vindictiveness remained. "I reckon if you want to be a d.a.m.n fool I ain't interferin'. But I've warned you, an' it's your funeral."

Calumet did not reply, contenting himself with grinning. He swung down from Blackleg, removed the saddle and bridle from the animal, and holding the latter by the forelock turned to Betty.

"I'd like you to ride Blackleg home. He's your horse now. Kelton will lend you a halter to lead that skate you're on. While he's gettin' the halter I'll put your saddle on Blackleg--if you'll get off."

Betty dismounted and the change was made. She had admired Blackleg--she was in love with him now that he belonged to her, but she was afflicted with a sudden speechlessness over the abruptness with which he had made the gift. She wanted to thank him, but she felt it was not time. Besides, he had not waited for her thanks. He had placed the halter on the horse she had ridden to the Diamond K, had looked on saturninely while Kelton had helped her into the saddle, and had then carried his own saddle to a point near the outside of the corral fence, laying the bridle beside it. Then he uncoiled the braided hair lariat that hung at the pommel of the saddle and walked to the corral gate.

With a little pulse of joy over her possession of the splendid animal under her, and an impulse of curiosity, she urged him to the corral fence and sat in the saddle, a little white of face, watching Calumet.

The black horse was alone in the corral and as Calumet entered and closed the gate behind him, not fastening it, the black came toward him with mincing steps, its ears laid back.

Calumet continued to approach him. The black backed away slowly until Calumet was within fifty feet of him--it seemed to Betty that the horse knew from previous experience the length of a rope--and then with a snort of defiance it wheeled and raced to the opposite end of the corral.