Then, smiling to himself, he went to the big barn and saddled a horse--there are always two or three that are not turned out in the pasture--and in a few minutes was riding leisurely away on the Simmons road, along the western edge of the valley.

An hour later he met Kitty Reid, who was on her way from Simmons to the Cross-Triangle.
The young woman was sincerely glad to meet him.
"But you were going to Simmons, were you not ?" she asked, as he reined his horse about to ride with her.
"To be truthful, I was going to Simmons if I met anyone else, or if I had not met you," he answered.

Then, at her puzzled look, he explained, "I saw someone leave your house, and guessed that it was you.

I guessed, too, that you would be coming this way." "And you actually rode out to meet me ?" "Actually," he smiled.
They chatted about the rodeo, and the news of the countryside--for it had been several weeks since they had met--and so reached the point of the last ridge before you come to the ranch.

Then Patches asked, "May we ride over there on the ridge, and sit for a while in the shade of that old cedar, for a little talk?
It's early yet, and it's been ages since we had a pow-wow." Reaching the point which Patches had chosen, they left their horses and made themselves comfortable on the brow of the hill, overlooking the wide valley meadow and the ranches.
"And now," said Kitty, looking at him curiously, "what's the talk, Mr.
Honorable Patches ?" "Just you," said Patches, gravely.
"Me ?" "Your own charming self," he returned.
"But, please, good sir, what have I done ?" she asked.