There'd be no fear of being recognized." Pierre was silent a moment more.

Then he said: "This girl--what did you call her ?" "Mary." "And about her hair--I think you said it was black ?" "Golden, Pierre." "Mary, and golden hair," mused Red Pierre.

"I think I'll go to that dance." "With Jack?
She dances wonderfully, you know." "Well--with Jack." So they reached a tumbled ranch house squeezed between two hills so that it was sheltered from the storms of the winter but held all the heat of the summer.
Once it had been a goodly building, the home of some cattle king.

But bad times had come.

A bullet in a saloon brawl put an end to the cattle king, and now his home was a wreck of its former glory.