anything had separated us, he would have had the common honesty and
manliness to say so. No; he thinks me another Liverpool girl, 'hard hit.'
He is running away from _me_." At this cruel idea, so abhorrent to her
vanity, pride, affection, and general womanhood, the poor girl sank down
on her bed overwhelmed, and did not leave her room for three days,--or
rather eternities,--at the end of which time she met Mr. Ramsay by
accident on the high-road and cut him dead.

"I must pull myself together and get away out of this," said Mr. Ramsay to
Mr. Ketchum that evening. "I have bought of Albert Brown his ranch in
Colorado, near Taylorsville, and I leave in the morning."

"WHAT!" cried Mr. Ketchum. "Has he sold you that tumble-down claim on a
burnt prairie, miles from any wood or water? I know the place."

"I haven't examined the property; but he assures me it is a fine one. And,
anyway, it is settled, I am going. A thousand thanks for all your kindness,
Ketchum. An Englishman that I met in New York wants me to go huntin' with
him, and I shall join him at St. Louis and go on out from there."

"Why, I thought you had all promised to go to Niagara as my guests in a
few days. Do change your mind and stay, won't you?" urged Mr. Ketchum.

But Mr. Ramsay was obdurate, and took himself and a car-load of property
off in the direction of the setting sun by the mid-day train next morning.

"Ramsay, I want you to promise me one thing. If, owing to that skunk Brown,
you are disappointed out there, or don't get on, write or telegraph me,
and I'll stand by you to the tune of ten thousand or so. Good-by, old
fellow. Remember, I'm your _friend_," said generous Job, at the station.