Connie was abroad at dawn the next morning. Dressed in riding clothes, she let herself out of the ranch house and went to the barn where Silvertail was stabled.

The big gray turned his head at her approach and gave a low whinny of welcome. Connie laughed with delight as she patted the mane on his glossy neck.

“You did miss me, Silvertail,” she said softly. “And how lonesome I’ve been for you!”

She led the horse from the barn, and with a quick, agile spring vaulted on his back. Connie needed no saddle. She had learned to ride bareback as a child, and when it came to handling a high spirited horse there were few cowboys who were her equal.

Turning her mount eastward toward the rising sun, the girl dug in her heels. Silvertail snorted and the dust rolled from under his hoofs. The rhythmic, regular beat of the steel shoes came as music to Connie’s ears.

Silvertail’s action, as always, seemed nothing short of marvelous. He ran smoothly and easily, obedient to the slightest touch of his mistress. Connie rode him with body bent low, the wind whipping her hair about her face.

“We’ve gone far enough,” she said at last, turning back toward the ranch.

As they came up to the corrals, Lefty Forbes emerged from the bunkhouse. Connie slid to the ground, her face flushed, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Oh, Lefty, Silvertail is marvelous!” she declared. “In all the world there’s not a horse to compare with him.”

“Nor a rider who stacks up with you,” replied the cowboy affectionately. “I suppose you saw the posters advertisin’ the rodeo.”

“No! When is it coming, Lefty?” Connie asked eagerly.

“Next week. Entries close Thursday night. They’re offerin’ some good prizes this year. Five hundred dollars for the best gal bronco rider. I remember you won out in that event when you were just a kid——”

“I’m afraid I was a better rider then than I am now,” said Connie. “I’ve been out of practice for three years.”

“You can still ride circles around all the girls in this county,” Lefty insisted loyally. “It might be an easy way to pick up some money.”

“Or a few broken bones,” added Connie with a laugh. “No, I think I’ll let someone else try for that five hundred dollars.”

After breakfast she asked Forest Blakeman if she might have a talk with him.

“I reckon you can,” he replied with a frown. “It’s time you learn just how matters are around here. I hate to tell you, Miss Connie, but the old Rainbow is headed for the rocks.”

“You gave me no hint of it in your letters,” said Connie.

“Didn’t see what good it would do to worry you. We might have made it if the bottom hadn’t fallen out of the cattle market. Lost a thousand dollars on our last shipment.”

“My father always made money from this ranch. It’s considered one of the best in New Mexico.”

“Times have changed since your Dad was alive, Miss Connie. Most of the smart ranchers have gone into the Dude business.”

“Then why can’t we do the same?” demanded Connie. “The ranch house would hold at least a dozen guests. If necessary we could build on an extra wing and——”

“It takes money to make improvements, Miss Connie.” The foreman spoke with a slight sneer which was not lost upon the girl.

“Can’t we raise even a few hundred dollars? That would be enough to get us started.”

“We can’t raise a dime—not a dime. Our credit has been stretched to the limit. Fact is, there’s a note coming due for fifteen hundred dollars at the First National—that’s next month. If you’re not able to meet it, I’m afraid you’re going to lose the ranch, Miss Connie.”

Connie stared at the foreman thoughtfully. She had not realized that matters could be so bad.

“You should have told me about it months ago,” she murmured.

“No one could have done a better job than I of managing this ranch,” the foreman snapped. “I’ve worked night and day at the job. I’ve even advanced my own money to pay interest on the ranch debts. My own salary hasn’t been paid for months!”

“I wasn’t blaming you,” Connie said quickly. “I just wish you hadn’t kept these things from me. What do you think is the best for us to do?”

“If the bank won’t renew your note you’re through,” replied the foreman bluntly. “I can’t advance any more of my own money.”

“I certainly don’t expect it of you,” said Connie quietly. “Tomorrow I’ll drive in to town and see the banker.”

After Blakeman had gone to the barn, she sat for a long while on the top rail of the high corral, gazing toward the distant mountains. She felt very alone and for the first time in her life, inadequate to the situation.

For some reason which she could not have explained, she did not like Forest Blakeman. Nor could she entirely trust him. He had badly mismanaged the Rainbow Ranch, she believed, allowing the quality of the stock to run down and the buildings to deteriorate. But she could not discharge him because she owed him money.

“Lefty is right,” Connie thought uncomfortably. “I’ll have to move carefully.”

The girl sat watching the horses which had been herded into the smaller pens. A sorrel in particular held her attention for only the night before one of the cowboys had told her that the animal was as yet unbroken.

Presently Lefty and Alkali Pete came out of the barn with a saddle. They grinned at Connie as they stopped by the corral.

“Now you’ll see some fun,” said Lefty grimly. “Old Firewater has a wicked look in his eye this morning.”

Connie watched with keen interest as Lefty’s swinging rope started the sorrel to running in wide circles around the corral. Then the lariat flashed out, stopping the animal neatly.

While the two cowboys were trying to get the saddle on, the sorrel snorted and snapped his teeth and fought at their slightest touch. Connie slid down from the fence.

“Lefty, let me ride Firewater,” she pleaded.

“Not this baby, Connie,” said the cowboy. “He’s thrown me twice.”

“Oh, Lefty, don’t be stubborn. You know I can do it. Anyway, I’m not afraid to wipe up a little corral dust. It won’t be the first time.”

“Quit your teasin’,” muttered Lefty.

But in the end he gave in, just as Connie knew he would. When the sorrel was saddled, the cowboys blindfolded him, and held his head between them until Connie was mounted. Then the ropes were released and the blindfold jerked away.

“Yip-ee!” yelled Lefty, jumping aside. “Ride ’im, Connie!”

For an instant Firewater stood perfectly still. Then he ducked his head, shot up into the air and came down stiff-legged. At every jump he seemed to go a little higher and strike the ground harder. Connie’s slender little body whipped back and forth as she waved her hat and used her rowels.

But after a few minutes Firewater stopped bucking and the girl rode him off across the sage. She came back flushed and triumphant.

“Nice work,” praised Lefty as she slid to the ground.

“Lefty, I’ve been thinking over what you said about the rodeo,” Connie declared slowly. “Do you really believe I’d have any chance to win that prize for bronco riding?”

“I sure do, Connie. No girl around here would have a chance against you, unless maybe it might be Enid Bradshaw.”

“I could use five hundred dollars right now,” Connie went on soberly. “I’ve decided to go out for it, Lefty.”

“The boys from the Rainbow will sure be pullin’ for you.”

“I’ll have to get busy and practice up,” Connie declared. “Until rodeo time I expect to be one big black and blue spot.”

Rather well pleased with her decision to enter the contest, the girl spent the afternoon making an inspection of the ranch. Everywhere she found evidence of careless management.

“If only I could win five hundred dollars in the rodeo, I’ll be able to pay Blakeman everything I owe him,” she thought. “Then I can get rid of him.”

After her long ride over the range, Connie felt more at peace with the world. Supper was over when she saw a lone rider turn in at the gate.

“Why, that’s Pop Bradshaw!” the girl thought as she recognized the stout rancher. She quickly arose from the porch and went to meet him.

“Hello, there, Connie,” beamed the old man as he stiffly dismounted. “Didn’t know you were back home.”

“Yes, I arrived yesterday,” Connie answered as she shook hands. “How is Enid?”

“Oh, fine, fine. She’s grown a lot since you saw her last, but for that matter, so have you. Blakeman here, I suppose?”

“Why, yes, he’s out at the barn,” Connie replied. She wondered what had brought Pop Bradshaw to the ranch but did not like to ask.

“Ride over an’ see Enid,” the old rancher invited cordially. “She’ll be right glad to visit with you again.”

“I’ll do that,” Connie promised.

The old rancher went on toward the barn. Connie sat down on the steps again.

“I wonder what business Pop has with my foreman?” she reflected. “If it’s anything to do with the ranch, I’m the one he should see. But I don’t seem to cut much ice around here.”

Since her arrival Connie had felt somewhat like a guest. She had been treated with the greatest of politeness by Forest Blakeman, but he paid scant attention to any suggestion which she offered. His attitude rather than his words had given her to understand that he did not consider her opinions worthy of notice.

Connie was thinking of going indoors when Pop Bradshaw and the foreman emerged from the barn. Pop was leading a horse. In the gathering dusk the girl could not be certain which animal it was. But as the two men came closer she saw that it was Silvertail.

The foreman did not notice Connie sitting on the porch. He said to Pop Bradshaw:

“Well, you’ve made a good bargain this time. You’ve bought a fine hoss.”

Connie wondered if she had heard correctly. But she could not doubt her own ears, and besides, she saw that the rancher was preparing to lead Silvertail away.

“Just a minute please,” she said, stepping forward. “Mr. Blakeman, why is Pop Bradshaw taking my horse?”

“Why, I bought him a few days ago,” answered the rancher before the foreman could reply.

“You bought Silvertail?” Connie echoed in amazement. “But he’s my horse. I’d not sell him to anyone.”

“Now be reasonable, Miss Connie,” interposed Blakeman. “We need money and Silvertail’s not much use as a cow pony. I thought the best thing to do would be to get rid of him.”

“You might have consulted me,” retorted Connie, striving to control her anger.

“I don’t aim to take your hoss if you feel thet way about it,” Pop Bradshaw said hastily. “It’s nothin’ to me one way or the other.”

“Thank you, Pop,” replied Connie gratefully. “I couldn’t possibly let Silvertail go. Mr. Blakeman quite overstepped his authority.”

The foreman’s dark eyes flashed angrily, but he made no comment until after the rancher had ridden away.

“You made a mistake, Miss Connie,” he said coldly. “You may not get another chance to sell to a good owner like Pop.”

“I’ll not sell Silvertail to anyone!”

“I hope you’re right,” returned the foreman with a shrug. “But after you’ve talked with the banker you may get a different idea!”