Bernse hesitated at the door. "I reckon I'll be lightin' out for town," he said to the sheriff.

"Wait," said the sheriff; "I'll be goin' that way myself, directly."

Calumet had preceded Toban. As the latter was speaking to Bernse, Calumet stood before Betty, who, with Bob, had moved to the sitting-room door and was standing, pale, her eyes moist and brilliant with the depth of her emotions.

Briefly, he told her what he had found in the clearing.

"And the idol's gone," he concluded. "Telza's got it."

"Thank God!" she exclaimed, devoutly.

"I reckon," came Toban's voice, as he stepped across the kitchen floor toward them, "that we'd better bring this here idol business to an end. Mebbe it's bothered you folks a heap, but it's had me sorta uneasy, too." He grinned at Betty. "Mebbe you'd better show him his dad's last letter," he suggested. "I reckon it'll let me out of this deal. An' I'm sure wantin' to go back home."

Betty vanished into the sitting-room in an instant, and presently returned bearing an envelope of the shape and size which had contained all of the elder Marston's previous communications to Calumet. She passed it over to the latter and she and the sheriff watched him while he read.

"MY DEAR SON: If you receive this you will understand that by this time Betty is satisfied that you have qualified for your heritage. I thank you and wish I were there to shake your hand, to look into your eyes and tell you how glad I am for your sake.

"As soon as you have your affairs in shape I want you to marry Betty—if she will have you. I think she will, for she is in love with your picture.

"By this time you will know that I didn't leave Betty alone to cope with the Taggarts. If Dave Toban has kept his word—and I know he has—he has visited the Lazy Y pretty often. I didn't want you to know that he was back of Betty, and so I have told him to visit her secretly. He will give you what money is left in the bank at Las Vegas—we thought it would be safer over there.

"I want to thank you again. God bless you.

"Your father,

"JAMES MARSTON."

Calumet slowly folded the letter and placed it into a pocket. He looked at Toban, a glint of reproach in his eyes.

"So, it was you that I kept hearin' in the office—nights," he said.

"I reckon," said Toban. He looked at Betty and grinned.

Calumet also looked at her. His face was sober.

"I reckon I've been some fool," he said. "But I was more than a fool when I thought—"

"I didn't blame you much for that," smiled Betty. "You see, both times you heard us talking it happened that Taggart was somewhere in the vicinity, and—"

"Well," interrupted Toban with a grin; "I reckon you two will be able to get along without any outside interference, now."

They both watched in silence as he went to the door and stepped outside. He halted and looked at them, whereat they both reddened. Then he grinned widely and was gone.

Betty stood at one side of the sitting-room door, Calumet at the other. Both were in the kitchen. Bob, also, was in the kitchen, though Calumet and Betty did not see him; so it appeared to Bob. Having some recollection of a certain light in Betty's eyes on the night that Calumet had brought home the puppy, Bob's wisdom impelled him to compare it with the light that was in them now, and he suspected—he knew—

And so, very gently, very quietly, with infinite care and patience, lest they become aware of his presence, he edged toward the kitchen door, his rifle in hand. Still they did not seem to notice him, and so he passed through the door, into the dining-room, backed to the stairs, and so left them.

The silence between Betty and Calumet continued, and they still stood where they had stood when Bob had stolen away, for they heard sounds outside that warned them of the approach of Dade and Malcolm.

But it seemed they did not see Dade and Malcolm stop at one of the kitchen windows, and certainly they did not hear the whispered conversation that was carried on between the two.

"Shucks," said Dade; "it begins to look like Cal an' Betty's quarrel is—"

"I reckon we won't go in," decided Malcolm; "not right now. Mebbe in an hour, or so. Let's go down to the bunkhouse and play a little pitch."

They were all alone now. And Love had not been blind to the stealthy activities that had been carried on around it.

Betty turned her head and looked at Calumet. He smiled at her—it was the smile of a man who has won a battle with something more than the material things; it was the smile of a man who has conquered self—the smile of the ruler who knows the weakness of the citadel he has taken and plans its strengthening. It was the smile of the master who realizes the potent influence of the ally who has aided in his exaltation and who meditates reward through the simple method of bestowing upon the ally without reservation that citadel which she has helped to take and which, needless to say, she prizes. But it was something more, too, that smile. It was the smile of the mere Man—the man, repentant, humble, petitioning to the woman he has selected as his mate.

"I reckon," he said; "that they all thought we wanted to be alone."

But the ally was not prepared for this precipitate bestowal of reward, and as she blushed and looked down at the toe of her shoe, sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt, she looked little like a person who had conducted a bitter war for the master who stood near her.

"Oh," she said; "did you hear them?"

"I reckon I heard them," he said. He went closer to her. "They're wise—Dade an' Malcolm. Bob, too. Wiser than me. But I'm gettin' sense, an' I'll come pretty close to bein' a man—give me time. All I need is a boss. An' if you—"

"I reckon," said Dade, stretching himself an hour later, "that we'll turn in. That brandin' today, an' that ridin' tonight has bushed me—kinda."

Malcolm agreed and they stepped to the bunkhouse door.

The moonlight threw a mellow glare upon the porch of the ranchhouse near the kitchen door. It bathed in its effulgent flood two figures, the boss and the master, who were sitting close together—very close together—on the porch.

The two figures came into instant focus in Dade's vision. He stepped back with a amused growl and gave place to Malcolm, who also looked.

Silently they went back into the bunkhouse.

"I reckon," suggested Dade, from the darkness, "that if we're figgerin' to go to bed we'll have to bunk right here. There's no tellin' when them two will get through mushin'. An' it's been too hard a tussle for them to have us disturbin' them now."

From the porch there came a low protest from the ally.

"Don't, Cal," she said; "don't you see that Dade and Malcolm are watching us?"

"Jealous, I guess," he laughed. "Well, let them watch. I reckon, if they're around here for any time, after this, they'll see me kissin' you plenty more."



THE END