horses, the square buildings with their ugly signs, unfinished yet old,
the lounging, dust-gray men at every corner--these awoke in me a
significance that had gone into oblivion overnight.

That last talk with Miss Sampson had unnerved me, wrought strangely upon
me. And afterward, waking and dozing, I had dreamed, lived in a warm,
golden place where there were music and flowers and Sally's spritelike
form leading me on after two tall, beautiful lovers, Diane and Vaughn,
walking hand in hand.

Fine employment of mind for a Ranger whose single glance down a quiet
street pictured it with darkgarbed men in grim action, guns spouting
red, horses plunging!

In front of Hoden's restaurant I dismounted and threw my bridle. Jim was
unmistakably glad to see me.

"Where've you been? Morton was in an' powerful set on seein' you. I
steered him from goin' up to Sampson's. What kind of a game was you
givin' Frank?"

"Jim, I just wanted to see if he was a safe rancher to make a stock deal
for me."

"He says you told him he didn't have no yellow streak an' that he was a
rustler. Frank can't git over them two hunches. When he sees you he's
goin' to swear he's no rustler, but he _has_ got a yellow streak,
unless..."

This little, broken-down Texan had eyes like flint striking fire.