You'd better hit the breeze right back to Okar an' spread the good news." He stood, a grim smile on his face, watching Dale as the latter walked to the door.

When Dale stepped out on the porch Sanderson followed him, still regarding the movements of the other coldly and alertly.
Mary heard them--their steps on the boards of the porch; she heard the saddle leather creak as Dale climbed on his horse; she heard the sound of the hoofbeats as the horse clattered out of the ranchhouse yard.
And then for several minutes she stood near the little table in the room, listening vainly for some sound that would tell her of the presence of Sanderson on the porch.

None came.
At last, when she began to feel certain that he had gone to the bunkhouse, she heard a step on the porch and saw Sanderson standing in the doorway.
He grinned at her, meeting her gaze fairly.
"Dale told you a heap of truth, ma'am," he said.

"I feel more like a man tonight than I've felt for a good many days--an' nights." "Then it was true--as Dale said--that you are not my brother ?" said the girl.

She was trying to make her voice sound severe, but only succeeded in making it quaver.
"I ain't your brother." "And you came here to try to take the ranch away from me--to steal it ?" He flushed.