rock. The rest was easy."

"Where's your hoss? I hope you hid him."
"I tied him in them queer cedars down on the slope. He can't be

seen from the valley."
"That's good. Well, well! I'm completely dumfounded. It was my

idea that no man could track me in here."
"I reckon. But if there's a tracker in these uplands as good as

me he can find you."
"That's bad. That'll worry me. But, Lassiter, now you're here I'm

glad to see you. And--and my companion here is not a young
fellow!...Bess, this is a friend of mine. He saved my life once."

The embarrassment of the moment did not extend to Lassiter.
Almost at once his manner, as he shook hands with Bess, relieved

Venters and put the girl at ease. After Venters's words and one
quick look at Lassiter, her agitation stilled, and, though she

was shy, if she were conscious of anything out of the ordinary in
the situation, certainly she did not show it.

"I reckon I'll only stay a little while," Lassiter was saying.
"An' if you don't mind troublin', I'm hungry. I fetched some

biscuits along, but they're gone. Venters, this place is sure the
wonderfullest ever seen. Them cut steps on the slope! That outlet

into the gorge! An' it's like climbin' up through hell into
heaven to climb through that gorge into this valley! There's a

queer-lookin' rock at the top of the passage. I didn't have time
to stop. I'm wonderin' how you ever found this place. It's sure

interestin'."
During the preparation and eating of dinner Lassiter listened

mostly, as was his wont, and occasionally he spoke in his quaint
and dry way. Venters noted, however, that the rider showed an

increasing interest in Bess. He asked her no questions, and only
directed his attention to her while she was occupied and had no

opportunity to observe his scrutiny. It seemed to Venters that
Lassiter grew more and more absorbed in his study of Bess, and

that he lost his coolness in some strange, softening sympathy.
Then, quite abruptly, he arose and announced the necessity for

his early departure. He said good-by to Bess in a voice gentle
and somewhat broken, and turned hurriedly away. Venters

accompanied him, and they had traversed the terrace, climbed the
weathered slope, and passed under the stone bridge before either

spoke again.
Then Lassiter put a great hand on Venters's shoulder and wheeled

him to meet a smoldering fire of gray eyes.
"Lassiter, I couldn't tell Jane! I couldn't," burst out Venters,

reading his friend's mind. "I tried. But I couldn't. She wouldn't
understand, and she has troubles enough. And I love the girl!"

"Venters, I reckon this beats me. I've seen some queer things in
my time, too. This girl--who is she?"

"I don't know."
"Don't know! What is she, then?"

"I don't know that, either. Oh, it's the strangest story you ever
heard. I must tell you. But you'll never believe."

"Venters, women were always puzzles to me. But for all that, if
this girl ain't a child, an' as innocent, I'm no fit person to

think of virtue an' goodness in anybody. Are you goin' to be
square with her?"

"I am--so help me God!"
"I reckoned so. Mebbe my temper oughtn't led me to make sure.

But, man, she's a woman in all but years. She's sweeter 'n the
sage."

"Lassiter, I know, I know. And the hell of it is that in spite of
her innocence and charm she's--she's not what she seems!"

"I wouldn't want to--of course, I couldn't call you a liar,
Venters," said the older man.

"What's more, she was Oldring's Masked Rider!"
Venters expected to floor his friend with that statement, but he

was not in any way prepared for the shock his words gave. For an
instant he was astounded to see Lassiter stunned; then his own

passionate eagerness to unbosom himself, to tell the wonderful
story, precluded any other thought.

"Son, tell me all about this," presently said Lassiter as he
seated himself on a stone and wiped his moist brow.

Thereupon Venters began his narrative at the point where he had
shot the rustler and Oldring's Masked Rider, and he rushed

through it, telling all, not holding back even Bess's unreserved
avowal of her love or his deepest emotions.

"That's the story," he said, concluding. "I love her, though I've
never told her. If I did tell her I'd be ready to marry her, and

that seems impossible in this country. I'd be afraid to risk
taking her anywhere. So I intend to do the best I can for her

here."
"The longer I live the stranger life is," mused Lassiter, with

downcast eyes. "I'm reminded of somethin' you once said to Jane
about hands in her game of life. There's that unseen hand of

power, an' Tull's black hand, an' my red one, an' your
indifferent one, an' the girl's little brown, helpless one. An',

Venters there's another one that's all-wise an' all-wonderful.
That's the hand guidin' Jane Withersteen's game of life!...Your

story's one to daze a far clearer head than mine. I can't offer
no advice, even if you asked for it. Mebbe I can help you.

Anyway, I'll hold Oldrin' up when he comes to the village an'
find out about this girl. I knew the rustler years ago. He'll

remember me."
"Lassiter, if I ever meet Oldring I'll kill him!" cried Venters,

with sudden intensity.
"I reckon that'd be perfectly natural," replied the rider.

"Make him think Bess is dead--as she is to him and that old
life."

"Sure, sure, son. Cool down now. If you're goin' to begin pullin'
guns on Tull an' Oldin' you want to be cool. I reckon, though,

you'd better keep hid here. Well, I must be leavin'."
"One thing, Lassiter. You'll not tell Jane about Bess? Please

don't!"
"I reckon not. But I wouldn't be afraid to bet that after she'd

got over anger at your secrecy--Venters, she'd be furious once in
her life!--she'd think more of you. I don't mind sayin' for

myself that I think you're a good deal of a man."
In the further ascent Venters halted several times with the

intention of saying good-by, yet he changed his mind and kept on
climbing till they reached Balancing Rock. Lassiter examined the

huge rock, listened to Venters's idea of its position and
suggestion, and curiously placed a strong hand upon it.

"Hold on!" cried Venters. "I heaved at it once and have never
gotten over my scare."

"Well, you do seem uncommon nervous," replied Lassiter, much
amused. "Now, as for me, why I always had the funniest notion to

roll stones! When I was a kid I did it, an' the bigger I got the
bigger stones I'd roll. Ain't that funny? Honest--even now I

often get off my hoss just to tumble a big stone over a
precipice, en' watch it drop, en' listen to it bang an' boom.

I've started some slides in my time, an' don't you forget it. I
never seen a rock I wanted to roll as bad as this one! Wouldn't

there jest be roarin', crashin' hell down that trail?"
"You'd close the outlet forever!" exclaimed Venters. "Well,

good-by, Lassiter. Keep my secret and don't forget me. And be
mighty careful how you get out of the valley below. The rustlers'

canyon isn't more than three miles up the Pass. Now you've
tracked me here, I'll never feel safe again."

In his descent to the valley, Venters's emotion, roused to