CHAPTER X

INTO THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY


A man lay on the top of Flat Rock, stretched at supple ease. By his side
was a carbine; in his hand a pair of field glasses. These last had been
trained upon Twin Star Ranch for some time, but were now focused upon a
pair of approaching riders. At the edge of the young willow grove the
two dismounted and came forward leisurely.

"Looks like the mountains are coming to Mahomet this trip," the watcher
told himself.

One figure was that of a girl--a brown, light-stepping nymph, upon whom
the checkered sunlight filtered through the leaves. The other was a
finely built man, strong as an ox, but with the sap of youth still in
his blood and the spring of it in his step, in spite of his nearly
twoscore years. He stopped at the foot of Flat Rock, and turned to his
companion.

"I've been wondering why you went riding with me yesterday and again
to-day, Miss Phyllis. I reckon I've hit on the reason."

"I like to ride."

"Yes, but I expect you don't like to ride with me so awful much."