Red Sullivan, having secured both horses, started with Mason to the house. As they neared the porch they heard the girl talking in a tone of reproof to Scotty. He was twirling his hat like an awkward school boy. Red stopped Mason and whispered:

“Jack, if you want to hear a man get called down right and proper, listen. That’s her father on the porch,” he added.

Mason drew back and watched the scene with keen amusement.

“Scotty!” the girl was saying, “you have been drinking, I’m ashamed of you, and of all times when you should have kept sober. What will this gentleman from New York think of us?” she demanded imperiously.

Suddenly catching sight of Mason she turned swiftly and entered the house. Red was fairly exploding with laughter at Scotty’s discomfiture.

“Come on, Jack,” he said with a grin. “I’ll make you acquainted with Mr. Walters.”

Scotty had started for the corral. As he was passing them Red could not restrain from a sly dig.

“Guess I was right on that call down stuff, eh?”

Scotty scowled and strode past him without a word.

Red introduced Mason to the owner of the ranch. Mr. Walters was a tall and powerfully built man with a face tanned and wrinkled from long exposure to sun and wind.

“So, you are Mason’s boy, eh?” he said, shaking hands with a vise-like grip. “Glad to meet you. Used to know your dad years ago back East. Hope you will like this country, great air and will do you all kinds of good.”

Mason took to him on the instant, for all of his bluff ways.

“Jack, come into the house; no, wait a minute and I’ll make you acquainted with my daughter. Josephine,” he called in a stentorian voice.

“Yes, coming, Daddy,” came the answer in bell-like tones. Suddenly the girl appeared at the door. Mason gave a start of surprise. When he first saw her on the porch with her father she was dressed in riding habit, but now she wore a dress of some fluffy creation such as the girls of his acquaintance wore back East. It was a delicate shade of blue and matched her hair which was a golden brown. Her eyes were of a grayish blue.

Taken by surprise, he could only stammer through the introduction which her father made. The girl was quick to see his distress and said:

“Daddy, you show Mr. Mason to his room while mother and I see about supper.”

“You must be about famished,” she added, turning to Mason with an arch smile.

He had recovered his composure to some extent by this time, saying, “I am somewhat hungry, Miss Walters, and accept your invitation to supper with pleasure.”

The girl hastily withdrew to help her mother in the kitchen.

“She’s a thoroughbred,” declared her father, gazing after her fondly.

While being conducted to his room, Mason attempted to show Mr. Walters the letter of introduction which his father had given him, but the ranch owner wouldn’t consider it.

“Guess I know your father well enough to recognize his son.”

After a wash and a change of clothes, Mason felt refreshed. Making his way downstairs he was presented to Mrs. Walters. It was a merry party that gathered around the supper table. Red, having been invited, told some stories with such droll wit that he kept Mason laughing throughout the meal. The girl was an interested listener and occasionally put in a word. She appeared anxious to make the Easterner feel at home. After supper the party sat on the porch while the ranch owner entertained his guest with tales of life on the range.

A little later the ranch owner excused himself, saying he was getting old and must retire early to bed. The girl coaxed her mother to remain up a little longer and soon the three were talking on general subjects. The open-hearted hospitality of these Western people was pleasing to Mason, and that night after retiring to his room, he confessed to himself that he was beginning to look upon his new career with growing favor.

The next morning he awoke to find the sun streaming in his window, and hearing sounds of activity below, he dressed hastily. Going downstairs he was greeted with a cheery good morning from Mrs. Walters who was busily preparing the morning meal.

“Breakfast will be ready in about half an hour, and you can look around a bit if you wish,” she announced.

“Josephine is outdoors somewhere,” she added.

Mason nodded pleasantly and started for a walk to the corral. As he turned the corner of the house he came across a sight that filled him with amusement. It was the girl; she was romping with a great St. Bernard dog.

Quickening his pace, he soon came up to her.

“Good morning, Miss Walters,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

The girl looked up quickly, exclaiming,

“Oh, it’s you, Sir New Yorker. Well, I wish to make a bargain with you. You may call me Josephine and I’ll call you Jack.”

“That goes,” he agreed, falling in with her humor.

The girl was fondling her dog again and Mason murmured softly,

“Love me, love my dog.”

“What did you say?” the girl asked, looking up brightly.

He smiled and shook his head.

“Well, it was something about a dog,” she declared.

“You must be great friends with my dog. His name is Rover. Shake hands with the gentleman, Rover.”

The dog offered a huge paw, which Mason shook in solemn friendship.

“There,” declared the girl gaily, “you now have a friend for life.”

“What I would like to know,” he questioned, “is where all the cowboys keep themselves?”

“Oh,” the girl answered. “I supposed that Red or Scotty had shown you the bunk-house. It is that building you see just beyond the corral. All the boys sleep there. Come, let’s go in to breakfast.”

After the meal the girl motioned for Mason to follow her. When they were outside she said:

“Daddy is down to the bunk-house. I have ordered Scotty to saddle Fleet and a horse for you; then we are going to see Dad, and I’ll have him introduce you to the boys.”

“Did you beat Scotty in yesterday?” he asked.

“Did I?” Josephine tossed her head proudly. “Outside of Bud Anderson’s horse, there isn’t one on the range that can overtake Fleet.”

“Who is Bud Anderson?” he queried, getting interested.

“Why, didn’t you know?” she asked in surprise. “Bud Anderson! he’s the foreman of our ranch, and Sheriff of this County. He taught me how to shoot and ride. I have known him ever since I can remember.”

“I do remember of Red telling about a foreman and Sheriff but he didn’t mention his name,” he answered vaguely.

“Here comes Scotty with our horses,” the girl cried, clapping her hands with glee.

Mason was a little stiff from being in the saddle the day before.

“I’m afraid I’ll prove a poor rider if I have to keep up with you, Miss Josephine,” he said dismally.

The girl gave him a swift look.

“We are going to have a nice little ride and I am going to teach you how to ride fast and shoot,” she declared with fine assurance.

Mason noticed for the first time that she carried in her belt a small Colt’s revolver. Scotty had come up with the horses and after greeting him they mounted and rode slowly to the bunk-house.

“Some of the boys are riding the range, Jack,” she explained as they dismounted at the door.

Putting a whistle to her lips she blew a long shrill note.

“Coming,” called a voice from within.

The door flew open and the ranch owner appeared.

“Daddy,” the girl began before he could speak, “I would like you to make Jack acquainted with the boys.”

“Jack, eh,” he said with a grin, winking at Mason.

The girl blushed and glanced reprovingly at her father.

The ranch owner stepped inside and called briskly,

“Tumble out here, boys, I want to make you acquainted with a friend of mine from New York.”

The men were soon lined up, and the ranch owner starting with the largest one of the lot, said, “Jack, this is my assistant foreman, Joe Turner.”

Then he named them in turn. Mason shook hands heartily with them all, but when he came to Carlo and Powers he took an instant dislike to them. Carlo had squinting eyes and his hand had a cold snaky feeling. Mason drew back in disgust and could hardly repress a shiver down his back.

The girl broke the tension by saying,

“Daddy, Jack and I are going to take a little ride.”

“Don’t make him tired of you the first day,” he warned her, nudging Mason in the ribs.

“That’s not nice of you, Daddy,” she called back to him as they rode off.

Mason noticed that Powers had a sneer on his face as Josephine rode past him, and it increased his dislike for the man. They had gotten well out of sight of the ranch buildings when the girl again spoke, “Jack, I am going to take you over some of our range land and in return you must tell me about New York and your folks. Also, may I ask, why did you get so confused when Daddy introduced me last night?”

“Why,” he countered, “did you rush into the house when you caught sight of me?”

“I didn’t want you to hear me calling Scotty down,” she replied demurely, “but you have not answered my question.”

“I was surprised to see you in such a pretty dress.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes opening wide, “do you think we are barbarians out here and don’t know how to dress?”

“No,” he answered lamely, “but I was pleasantly surprised with you.”

Josephine rode in silence.

“I don’t know if I am to take that for a compliment or not,” she said at last.

“I am sure I meant it for a compliment,” he interposed hastily.

“You have a ready tongue,” she laughed, “but be careful you don’t slip up.”

“How is it that I didn’t see this Bud Anderson you tell about?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, he’s away on business for Dad; we expect him back most any time now.”

They were riding at an easy canter and had covered about fifteen miles. Mason was gradually getting over his lameness of the day before. The air was bracing and spicy with the smell of sage brush. Far off down the valley he could see cattle grazing. It was his first view of a large herd. In the distance he could see the mountains with their lofty peaks looming up in majestic splendor. The grandeur of it all filled him with awe.

Josephine broke his reverie by saying, “Oh, I hope you will like it out here. Look! off there to the West is Devil’s Gap.”

“Devil’s Gap,” he repeated.

“Yes, come, we’ll ride out that way and I’ll tell you about it.”

Putting the spurs to his horse he tried to keep up with her.

“I am afraid you’re going too fast for me,” he called after her ruefully.

A silvery laugh floated back to him as she checked her horse to a slower pace. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as he rode up to her.

“Forgive me, Sir Jack,” she said. “I forgot you are not used to the saddle.”

He looked keenly at her.

“I must appear an awful big dub in your eyes,” he said slowly.

He was thinking of the poor comparison he would make if Bud Anderson was along. A severe look came into Josephine’s face.

“If you think I feel that way,” she said gravely, “we’ll go back to the ranch.”

He laughed boyishly.

“Let’s not quarrel, you said we would ride out to this Devil’s Gap and you promised to tell me the story of it.”

“Please set the pace, but not too fast,” he added with mock seriousness.

“I said we would ride out that way,” Josephine corrected him. She was smiling now.

“Here’s a girl I can’t fathom,” admitted Mason to himself.

“I am waiting to hear that story, Josephine,” he said, coming back to the subject.

“Devil’s Gap,” she began, “is an opening in that ridge of mountains you see ahead of us. It leads up a winding trail to a plateau that joins another ridge. About a year ago a band of lawless outlaws and ex-cowboys had been operating around these parts. They were led by a desperado named Banty Hayes; he’s a cousin to the man who owns the Ricker ranch. It touches our boundary line where you saw our cattle grazing——”

“Yes,” cut in Mason, “Red told me about this man Ricker. He says your foreman thinks he is running your cattle over the line. He also spoke about Powers trying to get fresh with you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Powers to steal Dad’s cattle,” the girl resumed, “and as for Tom Powers, he is a sneak. But I am getting away from my story. This gang numbered about six members and they had been terrorizing the miners and ranch owners for miles around. The last hold-up they pulled off was at the little station four miles south of Trader’s Post. They held up the midnight through train, and ordered the express messenger to open the safe. He refused and they shot and killed him. It caused great excitement among the cattlemen, and the Railroad Company offered a large reward for their capture.

“A posse was hastily organized with Big Joe Turner leading them. Bud Anderson was away on business at the time. Daddy wired him to come home at once. When he arrived, Buck Miller had just ridden in with the news that they had trailed the gang to Devil’s Gap.

“Bud buckled on his guns and with Miller they beat it for the Gap. When they arrived at the foothills, Scotty and Red had received bullet wounds and were in a killing mood.

“Banty Hayes had always boasted that he and his men could hold off a regiment of men, once they had gained the plateau. They had made it a sort of a rendezvous in the past, but no one had been able to round them up.

“Bud led Scotty and Red with the rest of the posse up the Gap trail. It was a hot fight while it lasted. They forced the outlaws to the top where they made a stand. Bud and Red and Scotty charged them, their guns spitting a stream of lead. Banty Hayes was down with a bullet through his head.

“The rest of the gang seeing their leader fall, surrendered. One of the band told Joe Turner that they had intended to hold the posse off until night and make their escape.

“Most all of Bud’s men had been hit, but Joe said the outlaws were nervous for they never dreamed that Bud would dare to follow them up to the plateau. So that is the reason there is bad blood between Bud Anderson and Ricker,” the girl concluded.

They had turned and were riding the back trail. On the way home Mason told the girl about New York and his sister Ethel.

Josephine was all attention when he explained why he came to leave home, and how his father had made him a proposition to stay a year on her father’s ranch.

“Do you think you can be good out here?” the girl asked mischievously.

“Yes, I think I can, with you for company,” he replied, smiling.

The girl looked him straight in the eyes.

“We are going to be great friends,” she said with a rare smile. “You must invite your mother and sister out here.”

“I certainly will, and I am going to send for my ninety horse-power car.”

“Oh, that will be fine,” the girl cried with enthusiasm. “I am just crazy about riding fast. You must teach me how to drive. We will have great fun with it. We have a negro cook and the boys call him Smoke, he is so black. Bud took him on a trip to Chicago last summer and to show Smoke a good time he hired a high powered car and told the chauffeur to drive the limit.

“Well, Smoke never got over raving about that ride. Bud said his eyes fairly popped out of his head and he was scared stiff. When he got back home he told the boys in the mess room that Bud would never ‘get him in one of them go-devils again’!”

Mason laughed heartily at her narrative.

The girl touched him on the shoulder and pointed in the direction where he had seen the cattle grazing. He made out a horseman coming their way.

“That’s Tex,” she said, “one of our boys, I can tell by the way he rides.”

The rider halted and waited for them to come up. Mason noticed the cowboy took his hat off when the girl spoke to him.

“Tex, this is Jack Mason from New York,” she said, introducing the Easterner.

“How de do?” he jerked out in an offhand manner, “just rode in from the boundary line. Sort of keeping an eye on the Ricker gang,” he added, addressing his conversation to the girl.

“What’s the matter, Tex, have they been kicking up any trouble?” she queried in an anxious voice.

“Don’t exactly know,” he snapped out, “they have been acting mighty queer since them two punchers joined our outfit. Joe gave me orders to keep watch of them.”

Tex was a tall lanky cowboy and extremely nervous. He had a peculiar habit of pulling his belt up to the last notch and letting it out again while talking. Mason sized him up as a hard man to handle at close quarters.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“I know who you mean, Tex,” the girl said, “Powers and Carlo.”

He nodded grimly.

“Never mind, Tex. I guess Bud can take care of them. You ride in with us, we will tire Jack out with all our troubles.”

“I reckon I could take care of them if I get half a chance,” declared Tex with a grunt.

He had hitched his belt up until it seemed to Mason that his waist was small as a bean pole, started ahead, riding his horse like one born to the saddle.

The girl rode close to Mason, keeping up an easy conversation. He was surprised at her knowledge of all things in general.

“Some day,” she was saying, “we will ride out to the boundary line and I will show you the Ricker ranch. It is a fine place and they have as much range as Daddy has. They have a girl working for them, too. She is Spanish and a beauty, that is, if you like a brunette.” Josephine was half laughing, and watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I can tell better after I have seen her,” he replied, evasively.