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 mainly, whatever their motive, and mainly good, sound men.

There were plenty of wild fellows among them, at least wild in the old home standards of conduct, if not so very boisterous according to the morals of the range. Most of them received money from home, and were known as remittance men on the range, as they were similarly designated elsewhere, and the majority of them blew it in one big spree when it came, taking the thick and thin of a cowpuncher's life between checks without a sigh. If they did not always win to close comradship and understanding with the natives of the range, they invariably achieved a certain standing of respect in the rough ethics of that life.

Simpson rode on through the impenetrable night, surrendering full guidance to the horse, which appeared to be confident of its way. From the footing which was becoming muddy, Simpson knew the horse was following a road bearing traffic enough to keep the grass down. That it would lead him duly to the Bar-Heart-Bar ranch he had no doubt. His one concern was the length of time it would take to get there, as the travelling was heavy and slippery, and wearing on a horse.

The rain was increasing, bearing out of the quarter he was facing, driving on a dreary wind that chilled him to the bone. It would be wise to turn in at the first shelter offering, he decided, keeping a sharp lookout for a light. But there was no light. It seemed as if he had ridden beyond the bounds of civilization when he left town.

At a creekside, where there was a windbreak of cotton-