Janet's heart sank as she tried to recognize Venters in the rider.

Something familiar struck her in the lofty stature in the sweep of powerful shoulders.

But this bearded, longhaired, unkempt man, who wore ragged clothes patched with pieces of skin, and boots that showed bare legs and feet--this dusty, dark, and wild rider could not possibly be Venters.
"Whoa, Wrangle, old boy! Come down.

Easy now.

So--so--so.