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Updated: June 25, 2025
But he left them shortly afterward, lighting a fresh cigar and walking toward the bunkhouse, which was deserted, for Chavis and Pickett had gone to a distant part of the range. Thus Masten did not see Vickers, when a little later he came out on the porch with his war-bag. He said good-bye to Aunt Martha and Uncle Jepson, and then he took Ruth's hand and held it long.
She had seen guile in his eyes, and subtlety, and much humor. Stupidity! She wondered how Masten could be so dense! Then she became aware that the rider was splashing toward her, and the next instant she was looking straight at him, with not more than five feet of space between them.
But they're mostly harmless jokes, ma'am; he's never hurt nobody, bad. But he got a level head a heap leveler than a lot of folks that " "I think Tom Chavis would make a good range boss, Ruth," said Masten. He did not look at her, and his words were expressionless. "Mister man," said Vickers evenly, "what do you know about Tom Chavis?"
Why not one of the big men, in heaven's name?" cried Mrs. Kaye. "Well they were all out of town naturally enough at this time of year. We had to take what we could get. No doubt Lester or Masten was telegraphed for later. I all of us left the affair in Raglin's hands."
Yet by afternoon Ruth had tired of waiting; she had no special reason for certainty that Randerson would arrive that day, and so she went riding. She went alone, for Masten seemed to have hidden himself at least, she could not find him.
Standing there, he looked across the mud at the girl and the others, as though disdaining to exchange further words with the rider. The latter gazed at him, sidelong, with humorous malice in his glance. Then he wheeled his pony, rode back toward the wagon, veered when almost to it and forced the pony to climb the slope, thus getting Masten between the rope and the mud.
Hagar was sure to catch him; she would catch him, because of her deep affection for Randerson. And so, after all, there was nothing to worry about. She was surprised to discover that she could think of Masten without the slightest regret; to find that her contempt for him did not cause her the slightest wonder. Had she always known, subconsciously, that he was a scoundrel?
He watched silently while Masten got on his horse, and then, still silent, he followed as Masten rode down the path, across the river, through the break in the canyon wall and up the slope that led to the plains above.
A little later, riding back toward the Flying W when they had reached the timber-fringed level where, on another day, Masten had received his thrashing, Ruth halted her pony and faced her escort. "Randerson," she said, "today Uncle Jepson told me some things that I never knew about Masten's plots against you. I don't blame you for killing those men.
For he's goin' away tonight, an' he ain't comin' back." Hagar covered her face with her hands and sank into the grass beside the path, crying. "By God, Randerson!" blustered Masten, "what do you mean? This is going too "
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