“I’ll take your luggage now, Miss,” said the colored porter politely. “We’ll be a-pullin’ into Red Gulch in five minutes.”

“Yes, I know,” replied the girl softly, without shifting her gaze from the window.

For the past hour Connie Carl had been watching the horizon beyond the flashing telegraph poles. A faint cloud-like blue line which represented New Mexico’s mountains—her mountains—had steadily moved closer. She was going home at last, home to Rainbow Ranch.

At first glance a stranger never would have taken Connie Carl for a Westerner. The girl was neatly dressed in a blue suit with gray suede slippers, and a wisp of auburn-red hair peeped from beneath her jaunty felt hat. She looked for all the world like a young lady who had just graduated from a stylish Eastern finishing school, which in truth, she had. But now, at sixteen, Connie Carl had returned to the prairie land she loved, to make her home once more at the place of her birth, Rainbow Ranch.

The train had slowed down for the station. Connie went quickly down the aisle, waiting in the vestibule until the train came to a full stop.

“Someone meetin’ you, Miss?” asked the porter as she slipped a coin into his hand. “This heah Red Gulch ain’t nothin’ but a wide place in the road.”

“Yes, I’ve wired ahead, so I’m sure someone will meet me,” said Connie with a smile. “Anyway, I’ve been here before.”

The porter set out the luggage on the platform. As the train pulled slowly away, Connie looked quickly about.

Two men in wide brimmed hats and blue overalls were loading freight on a motor truck, but she did not know either of them. Otherwise the platform was deserted.

“It’s queer there’s no one here to meet me,” thought Connie. “Perhaps I didn’t send my wire in time for it to reach the ranch.”

After hesitating a moment, the girl picked up her heavy suitcases and carried them into the unswept little station. She walked over to the ticket window where the agent was busy with a report.

“Hello, Andy!” said Connie.

The agent looked up and stared. Then light broke over his face.

“Well, if it ain’t Connie Carl! I’m sure glad to see you back.”

“I’m glad to get back home too, Andy. It seems as if I’ve been gone half my life.”

“Let’s see, how long has it been?”

“Three years—three long years.”

“So they educated you, did they, Connie?”

“Well, they tried it,” laughed the girl, “but I’ve not forgotten how to ride a horse. I can hardly wait to get out to the ranch. I thought someone would meet me.”

“Haven’t seen Blakeman or any of the Rainbow outfit in town for a week. Roads have been pretty muddy. But you can get through now.”

“I’ll hire a rig,” said Connie. “Does old Charlie Trench still rim his jitney?”

“Same as ever,” the agent agreed with a grin. Then his face became sober. “But you may find other changes around here.”

“What sort of changes?” inquired Connie quickly.

“Oh, one thing and another,” answered the agent vaguely. “Say, I see Charlie across the street now. If you want to catch him you better hurry.”

Connie hastened across the street, stopping the old man just as he was entering a cafe. He greeted her with a hearty handshake and declared that he would be glad to drive her out to Rainbow Ranch.

“Everything looks just the same,” laughed Connie as Charlie loaded her bags into the decrepit old car.

“Maybe they look thet way,” replied the old taxi driver shortly, “but they ain’t! You’ll find plenty of changes, Connie—’specially out at Rainbow.”

“Why, is anything the matter, Charlie?” Connie stared at him in surprise. “I thought everything was running well. The foreman, Forest Blakeman, seemed to be very efficient.”

“Sure, he’s efficient. ’Specially where his own interests are concerned. You’ll find most of the old outfit broken up.”

“Isn’t Red Farnham there?” asked Connie in amazement. “And Shorty and Sixshooter Pete?”

“Red left six months ago,” Charlie answered with a shrug. “Sixshooter Pete drifted north this spring, and some of the other boys hired out to the Drowsy Water outfit. Shorty took himself to Mexico. I reckon Lefty Forbes is about the only one still there.”

“Why didn’t Blakeman write me about these changes?” asked Connie indignantly. “Why, those boys were my father’s most loyal cowhands. Rainbow Ranch won’t seem like home without them.”

“There’s been a lot of changes since your Dad died, Connie.”

“Yes,” agreed the girl soberly. “When he willed Rainbow Ranch to me, he provided that I must attend school in the East. I never wished to leave New Mexico because I feel that I belong here. Now that I’m through school, I’m aiming to take over the management of Rainbow Ranch myself.”

Old Charlie glanced sideways at the girl as he steered the car along the narrow dirt road.

“Maybe that won’t be so easy to do, Connie,” he said quietly.

“Dad left Rainbow Ranch to me, didn’t he?” the girl asked sharply. “What are you driving at anyway, Charlie? I wish you’d speak right out.”

“I’ve already talked a-plenty, Connie. You’ll get the lay of the land soon enough.”

Old Charlie lapsed into moody silence, devoting all his attention to the road. For a time they drove through a winding canyon, following the bed of a swift-moving stream. On either side rose red rock walls which under the light of the fading sun took on many beautiful hues. By craning her neck Connie could see the tops of spruce trees, aspens and cottonwoods.

The girl watched the blue mountains moving closer and closer. She breathed deeply of the fresh, crisp air. It was good to be home, and yet the edge had been taken from her enjoyment.

She felt disturbed. Both the station agent and Old Charlie had hinted that she would find many changes at Rainbow Ranch. She wondered if she had trusted too much in the judgment of her foreman, Forest Blakeman.

Presently the car rolled over the crest of a high hill. Connie leaned forward and glanced down into the valley. She could see the rambling old adobe buildings of Rainbow Ranch.

The car crept down the hill, and came at last to a huge wooden gateway. Old Charlie unfastened it and they drove up a long lane to the courtyard of the ranch house. A dog began to bark.

As Connie stepped from the car, she saw a tall, dark-haired man striding toward her. It was the ranch foreman, Forest Blakeman.

“Howdy, Miss Connie,” he said heartily, sweeping off his sombrero. “Welcome home to Rainbow Ranch. I was just aimin’ to drive in to Red Gulch myself.”

“Then you did receive my telegram?” asked Connie.

“Yes, but a lot of work piled up on us this afternoon, and I couldn’t get away as early as I planned. We’re short handed you know.”

“Charlie was telling me that Shorty and Red are gone.”

“Yes,” nodded the foreman indifferently. “Here, let me take your bags. You must be tired after your long trip.”

“I am,” Connie confessed wearily.

She followed the foreman into the ranch house. A feeling of relief came over her for inside the dwelling very little had been changed. The adobe walls, mellowed by the smoke of the fireplace, were still adorned with her father’s Mexican treasures. The furniture was all massive and hand carved.

A shy Mexican girl whom Connie had never seen before in her trips to the ranch took her bags and led her down a long tiled corridor to the east bedchamber.

Connie unpacked her luggage and changed into a fresh skirt and blouse. She was tired but she felt too excited to lie down. She went to the window and opened it.

Below she could see the corrals and the barn, and beyond, a long stretch of green meadow land.

“I wish I had time for a canter before supper,” Connie thought.

She had forgotten to ask the foreman about her favorite mount, Silvertail. Connie had raised the big gray from a colt and he was the best horse in the Rainbow string.

Leaving the ranch house, the girl walked rapidly toward the barn. But she stopped short as she saw a familiar slouched figure leaning against the corral bars.

“Connie!” cried a gruff voice.

“Lefty Forbes!” laughed Connie, clasping his horny hand in her own. “I’m glad to see one familiar face around here.”

“I reckon you won’t be seein’ mine much longer,” drawled the cowboy.

“What do you mean?” asked Connie quickly.

“Blakeman is figurin’ on givin’ me my honorable discharge if I kin read the signs,” replied the cowboy dryly. “But I calculate to beat him to the trigger. I’ll be quittin’ any day now.”

“Oh, Lefty, you can’t! Why, I need you here.”

“That’s the only reason I’ve stayed on, Connie,” said the cowboy soberly. “I thought a lot of your Dad, and this ranch. But there ain’t nothin’ I can do now. Blakeman runs things with a purty high hand.”

“He’s only the foreman, Lefty. Now that I’m home, I mean to manage the ranch myself.”

“I reckon you don’t know jest how bad things are, Connie.”

“Blakeman wrote me the ranch had been losing money the past year. Is that what you mean, Lefty?”

“Things have been runnin’ down hill ever since he took over, Connie. Blakeman’s handled the ranch with a high hand. First he fired Pete and Shorty——”

“He discharged them?” Connie gasped. “Why I thought they left of their own accord——”

“Well, they didn’t. They didn’t see eye to eye with Blakeman so he told ’em to go. ’Course you know how the cattle market’s been the last few years. An’ Blakeman seems to have a talent for sellin’ at the bottom. Truth is, things are in a purty bad way.”

“I mean to have a talk with Blakeman tomorrow,” Connie declared. “If he doesn’t wish to handle the ranch as I say, I’ll find a new foreman.”

“You can’t do that, Connie.”

“Why can’t I? Isn’t this my ranch?”

“It was your ranch,” said the cowboy quietly, “but I reckon now that the First National Bank has a strangle hold on it. They have a couple of notes——”

“Yes, Blakeman wrote me about that,” Connie interrupted, “but I understood the debt was only a small one.”

“It’s enough so the bank can take over any time. For the past year Blakeman has paid the interest out of his own pocket—or so he claims. And you’re owin’ him more than a year’s back salary. So you see, unless you’re supplied with ready cash, you can’t tell him to go.”

“I begin to understand,” murmured Connie.

“Blakeman is a slick sort of fellow, Connie. You want to think your way and move slow.”

And with that bit of sage advice, Lefty Forbes moved off toward the barn.