CHAPTER VIII.
GOOD-BYE.
Monteith Sterry read the "warning" through in a voice without the slightest tremor.

Then he quietly smoked his cigar and looked off in the moonlight, as though thinking of something of a different nature.
It was natural that Jennie Whitney should be more impressed by the occurrence, with the memory of the recent tragedy crushing her to the earth.

She exclaimed: "Larch Cadmus! Why, Fred, he has visited our house several times; he was here last week." "Yes," replied her brother; "he has often sat at our table; and, by the way, he is a great admirer of yours." "Nonsense!" was the response; "why do you say that ?" "It may be nonsense, but it is true, nevertheless.

Your mother noticed it; and, that there might be no mistake, Larch had the impudence to tell me so himself." "I never liked him; he is a bad man," said Jennie, much to the relief of Sterry, who felt a little uncomfortable.

"I did not know he belonged to the rustlers." "He was a cowboy until last fall.