FOR ONCE AT LEAST LITE HAD HIS WAY Half a mile she galloped, and met Lite coming home.

She glanced over her shoulder before she pulled Pard down to a walk, and Lite's greeting, as he turned and rode alongside her, was a question.

He wanted to know what was the matter with her.

He listened with his old manner of repression while she told him, and he made no comment whatever until she had finished.
"You must have made him pretty sore," he said dispassionately.

"I don't think myself that you ought to stay over to the ranch alone.