It was a warm summer morning in the town of Farewell. Save a dozen horses tied to the hitching-rail in front of various saloons and the Blue Pigeon Store and Bill Lainey, the fat landlord of the hotel, who sat snoring in a reinforced telegraph chair on the sidewalk in the shade of his wooden awning, Main Street was a howling wilderness.

"And don't forget that ribbon " called Kate Saltoun from the ranch-house door. "And don't lose the sample " "I won't " shouted Tom Loudon, turning in his saddle. "I'll get her just like you said Don't you worry any " He waved his hat to Kate, faced about, and put his horse to a lope. "Is it likely now I'd forget?" he muttered. "We'd do more'n that for her, wouldn't we, fellah?"

"But why don't you do something, Bill?" demanded Sam Prescott's pretty daughter. Bill Wingo looked at Miss Prescott in injured astonishment. "Do something?" he repeated. "What do you want me to do?" "I don't want you to do anything," she denied with unnecessary emphasis. "Haven't you any ambition?"