"You're the cowboy Russ?" he asked.

I nodded and looked him over. By day he made as striking a figure as I
had noted by night, but the light was not generous to his dark face.

"Here's your pay," he said, handing me some bills. "Miss Sampson won't
need you out at the ranch any more."

"What do you mean? This is the first I've heard about that."

"Sorry, kid. That's it," he said abruptly. "She just gave me the
money--told me to pay you off. You needn't bother to speak with her
about it."

He might as well have said, just as politely, that my seeing her, even
to say good-by, was undesirable.

As my luck would have it, the girls appeared at the moment, and I went
directly up to them, to be greeted in a manner I was glad George Wright
could not help but see.

In Miss Sampson's smile and "Good morning, Russ," there was not the
slightest discoverable sign that I was not to serve her indefinitely.

It was as I had expected--she knew nothing of Wright's discharging me in
her name.

"Miss Sampson," I said, in dismay, "what have I done? Why did you let me
go?"