then restlessly took his way up Seventeenth. He had an uncle and two
cousins living in Denver. With the uncle he was on bad terms, and with
his cousins on no terms at all. It had been ten years since he had
seen either James Cunningham, Jr., or his brother Jack. Why not call
on them and renew acquaintance?

He went into a drug-store and looked the name up in a telephone book.
His cousin James had an office in the Equitable Building. He hung the
book up on the hook and turned to go. As he did so he came face to
face with Rose McLean.

"You--here!" she cried.

"Yes, I--I had business in Denver," he explained.

"Like fun you had! You came because--" She stopped abruptly, struck
by another phase of the situation. "Did you leave Cheyenne without
riding to-day?"

"I didn't want to ride. I'm fed up on ridin'."

"You threw away the championship and a thousand-dollar prize to--to--"

"You're forgettin' Cole Sanborn," he laughed. "No, honest, I came on
business. But since I'm here--say, Rose, where can we have a talk?
Let's go up to the mezzanine gallery at the Albany. It's right next
door."

He took her into the Albany Hotel. They stepped out of the elevator at
the second floor and he found a settee in a corner where they might be