the others swiftly. How the eyes of Marianne feasted on the reclaimed
truants! They danced along gaily, their slender bodies shining with
sweat in the light of the early day, and Lady Mary mincing in the lead.
A moment later, Marianne was among her cowpunchers.

They were stolid as ever but she knew them well enough to understand by
the smiles they interchanged, that they were intensely pleased with
their work of the night. Then she found herself crying to Hervey:
"You're wonderful! Simply wonderful! How could you have followed them so
far and found them in the night?"

At that, of course, Hervey became exceedingly matter of fact. He spoke
as though the explanation were self-evident.

"They busted away in a straight line," he said, "so I knew by that that
something was leading 'em. Them bays ain't got sense enough of their own
to run so straight." She noted the slur without anger. "Well, what was
leading 'em must of been what let 'em out of the corral; and what let
'em out of the corral--"

"Horse thieves!" cried Marianne, but Hervey observed her without
interest.

"Hoss stealing ain't popular around these parts for some time," he said.
"Rustle a cow, now and then, but they don't aim no higher--not since we
strung Josh Sinclair to the cottonwood. Nope, they was stole, but not by
a man."

Here he made a tantalizing pause to roll a cigarette with Marianne
exclaiming: "If not a man, then what on earth, Mr. Hervey?"