Was he the Calumet Marston who, a week before, had set out on his homeward journey filled with bitterness--looking for trouble?
Had he been at the Lazy Y a day or a year?
It was a day--two days--but it seemed more like the longer time.

At least the time had wrought a change in him.

It was ludicrous, farcical.

In spite of his treatment of Betty she had faith in him! Wasn't that just like a woman?
There was nothing logical in her.

She had taken him on trust.
The whole business was in the nature of a comedy and suddenly yielding to his feelings he straightened in the saddle and laughed uproariously.
He did not laugh long, and when he sobered down and with an effort brought his mind back to the present, he became aware of the Red Dog, saw a young cowpuncher seated on the board sidewalk in front of the building, his back resting against it, laughing in sympathy with him.
Calumet was disconcerted for a moment.