the sound of her warm, clear laughter floated after him.




CHAPTER III

CAUGHT RED-HANDED


From a cleft in the hills two riders emerged, following a little gulch
to the point where it widened into a draw. The alkali dust of Arizona
lay thick upon their broad-brimmed Stetsons and every inch of exposed
surface, but through the gray coating bloomed the freshness of youth. It
rang from their voices, was apparent in the modelling and carriage of
their figures. The young man was sinewy and hard as nails, the girl
supple and wiry, of a slender grace, straight-backed as an Indian in the
saddle.

Just where the draw dipped down into the grassy park they drew rein an
instant. Faint and far a sound drifted to them. Somebody down in the
park had fired a rifle.

"I don't agree with you, Phil," the girl said, picking up the thread of
their conversation where they had dropped it some minutes earlier. "The
nesters have as much right here as we have. They come here to settle,
and they take up government land. Why shouldn't they?"

"Because we got here first," he retorted impatiently. "Because our
cattle and sheep have been feeding on the land they are fencing.