ones and twos. Every buckboard on the place was commissioned to haul the
guests around the smooth roads and show them the estate; and those who
preferred were furnished with saddle horses from the stable to keep their
own mounts fresh for their return trip. Vance took charge of the wagon
parties; Terence himself guided the horsemen, and he rode El Sangre, a
flashing streak of blood red.

The exercise brought the color to his face; the wind raised his spirits;
and when the gathering at the house to wait for the big dinner began, he
was as gay as any.

"That's the way with young people," Elizabeth confided to her brother.
"Trouble slips off their minds."

And then the second blow fell, the blow on which Vance had counted for
his great results. No less a person than Sheriff Joe Minter galloped up
and threw his reins before the veranda. He approached Elizabeth with a
high flourish of his hat and a profound bow, for Uncle Joe Minter
affected the mannered courtesy of the "Southern" school. Vance had them
in profile from the side, and his nervous glance flickered from one to
the other. The sheriff was plainly pleased with what he had seen on his
way up Bear Creek. He was also happy to be present at so large a
gathering. But to Elizabeth his coming was like a death. Her brother
could tell the difference between her forced cordiality and the real
thing. She had his horse put up; presented him to the few people whom he
had not met, and then left him posing for the crowd of admirers. Life to
the sheriff was truly a stage. Then Elizabeth went to Vance.

"You saw?" she gasped.