Connie walked slowly toward the ranch house, inwardly bracing herself for an unpleasant interview with Mr. Grimes. She found the old gentleman awaiting her on the veranda.

“I know why you wish to see me,” she said quickly before he could speak. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened this afternoon.”

“You risked your life to pull my son from the lake, young lady. I wish to thank you.”

Connie was taken completely by surprise. Mr. Grimes did not look in the least angry.

“Why, didn’t Cecil tell you——” she began.

“Oh, yes, my son said a number of things about this fellow called Lefty, but I finally got the true story out of him. He probably deserved the ducking.”

Connie could scarcely believe that she had heard correctly. She had been expecting a severe rebuke. Her surprise was heightened as the old gentleman continued:

“Cecil has become a difficult problem of late. I dare say a few such experiences might serve to take some of the conceit out of the boy.”

“Then you’re not angry?” Connie gasped.

Mr. Grimes glanced quickly about to make certain that no one was within hearing distance of his voice.

“Quite the contrary,” he declared. “I wish I had been there to see it myself. We’ll just consider the incident closed.”

“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Grimes,” Connie said gratefully. “Will you be staying on?”

“Yes, indeed. I’m thoroughly enjoying ranch life. And I think it may have a beneficial effect upon both Cecil and Helena.”

Connie felt as if a great load had been lifted from her shoulders. After talking with Mr. Grimes for a few minutes she went back toward the bunk house. Meeting Lefty she paused to tell him the good news.

“The old gent is a real man,” the cowboy declared admiringly. “Too bad his son can’t be more like him.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Maybe a ducking a day would do him good just like the old man said.”

“Perhaps, but don’t you try it,” Connie warned with a laugh. “From now on you’re to keep out of Cecil’s way as much as possible.”

“Don’t worry,” Lefty rejoined, “I don’t have any hankerin’ for that sissy’s company.”

Connie returned to the bunk house to resume her talk with Jim Barrows. Now that she had thought the matter over she decided there could be only one course open to her. Unless the man made a satisfactory explanation for his strange actions she must discharge him.

Connie knocked on the door and, when there was no answer, pushed it open. The room was deserted.

She glanced toward the bunk occupied by Barrows. It was neatly made up but an Indian blanket, which the cowboy had bought from Lefty, was gone. Jim’s meager belongings likewise were missing.

“Lefty!” Connie called.

The cowboy came quickly toward the bunk house.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in surprise.

“I think Barrows has skipped out, Lefty. At least his things are gone. Did you see him leave?”

“Why, no, Connie. He was here the last I knew.”

“Let’s see if he’s taken one of the horses.”

They ran to the barn. One glance assured them that instead of a pony, Jim Barrows had appropriated the ranch car.

“That fellow certainly had his nerve!” Lefty exclaimed angrily. “What’s the big idea anyway?”

“I’m afraid he was a crook,” Connie admitted ruefully. “My suspicions were aroused and I made the mistake of letting him know. Now we’re minus a car.”

“I’ll ride in to Red Gulch right away and report to the sheriff,” Lefty promised.

After he had gone, Connie wandered back to the bunk house. Thinking that Barrows might have appropriated other property which did not belong to him, she made an inspection. Nothing seemed to have been taken. More from curiosity than for any other reason she tried the lid of Forest Blakeman’s chest. It was still locked.

“I wonder what he does keep inside?” she mused.

“Well?” asked a sharp voice behind her.

Startled, Connie whirled around to see Forest Blakeman standing in the doorway. She laughed in confusion, realizing that the man easily might misinterpret her action.

“I was just looking about——” she began, but Blakeman cut her short.

“So I observe. You seem to be interested in my personal belongings.”

Connie flushed at the accusation.

“I hope you don’t think I was trying to break into your chest,” she said.

“Oh, no!”

“Mr. Blakeman, I don’t understand you at all. I came here because I wished to see if Jim Barrows had taken anything from the bunk house. He went off a few minutes ago in the car after we had a rather unpleasant talk together.”

The foreman’s countenance underwent a swift change.

“Barrows has gone for good?” he questioned. “Well, I’m glad you discharged him.”

“Apparently I was wrong about him and you were right,” Connie admitted ruefully. “He stole the ranch car. I don’t know what we’ll do without one.”

“Have you notified the sheriff?”

“Lefty went to Red Gulch to do it.”

“Maybe it’s just as well not to press the matter,” the foreman said thoughtfully. “We’re rid of Barrows and that’s something.”

“That doesn’t bring the car back—or my money if he really did take it. Somehow it’s hard to believe——”

“Now don’t start cooking up sentiment over that worthless fellow,” Blakeman interrupted quickly. “You have enough troubles without worrying over him.”

“You’re quite right there, Mr. Blakeman.”

The foreman hesitated, and then asked with an abrupt change of tone: “Have you been thinking over what I said the other day about selling the ranch?”

“I’ve been thinking, but my answer is still the same. I’ll never sell unless I’m compelled to do it.”

“This is the eleventh,” the foreman reminded her. “Have you talked with the banker lately?”

“I’m going in to Red Gulch tomorrow. I suppose I’ll have to come to some decision after I’ve seen Mr. Haynes again.”

“Well, let me know,” Blakeman nodded, as Connie walked slowly away.

It was after nine o’clock that evening when a familiar car came up the lane to the ranch house. Hearing the sound of the motor, Connie ran outside.

“Why, Lefty!” she cried in delight as the car stopped with a jerk. “You found our automobile!”

The cowboy climbed out and started to untie his horse which he had led on a long rope behind the vehicle.

“Barrows didn’t skip off with it after all,” he told Connie. “I found the car in front of the drug store at Red Gulch.”

“Did you see Jim?”

“No, I couldn’t find him anywhere in town. I reckon he abandoned the car and maybe hopped a freight.”

Connie asked Lefty if he had talked with the sheriff.

“Yes, but you know Old Daniels,” the cowboy replied. “He’s lazy as they come. Said he couldn’t do nothin’ unless there was a warrant for Barrows’ arrest.”

“I’m not sure I want to get out a warrant,” Connie returned slowly. “I have no real evidence against him.”

“That’s what I figured,” Lefty nodded. “So I reckon there’s no more to be done.”

In the morning Cecil and Helena complained that they had not yet seen the cliff dwellings. Before Connie could assign either Lefty or Alkali to escort them, the foreman volunteered to serve as guide. While the arrangement did not please Connie she could not protest for Helena immediately accepted Blakeman’s offer.

After the three had ridden away, she took advantage of their absence to drive in to Red Gulch. Upon presenting herself at the bank she was admitted to Mr. Haynes’ private office.

“Good morning, Miss Carl,” he said pleasantly. “Have a chair.”

Connie sat down, feeling very ill at ease. Mr. Haynes was watching her shrewdly. Already she suspected that it would be useless to make another request for an extension to her note.

Hesitantly, she explained her plan to launch forth into a dude ranch.

“I have seven paying guests now,” she declared, “and within a few weeks I hope to increase the number. I’m sure I’ll be able to pay off the loan in another three months.”

“Miss Carl, I admire your determination,” replied the banker, “but I must think about my depositors. I regret to say we cannot renew your note.”

Connie arose, pushing back her chair.

“You refuse to give me a chance,” she said bitterly. “And I know the reason! From the first you have schemed to take over the ranch. Through Pop Bradshaw you plan to gain control of the best land in the county!”

“You’re quite wrong, Miss Carl,” the banker answered quietly. “This rumor that we are taking over the Bradshaw place and running it as a dude ranch is quite unfounded. I have no idea who is behind the idea, but the financing has not gone through this bank.”

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” Connie apologized. “I’ll try to get the money by the sixteenth.”

She turned quickly and walked from the room. As she opened the door, a tall man who had been standing at the writing desk near the private office partition, ducked his head and slipped out the side door of the bank.

“Why, that looked like Jim Barrows!” Connie thought.

Whoever it was, she believed that he had been listening to her conversation with Mr. Haynes. The walls were thin and she had not taken care to lower her voice. Undoubtedly, the man had heard every word.

Connie darted to the door. She looked up and down the street. The man was nowhere to be seen.

“It was Jim Barrows,” she told herself. “He didn’t want me to see him—that’s why he ran away.”