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civilization to become a cow-puncher among the rock slopes of Colorado. He wondered if she felt the separation— if she cared. How happy they had been, and how much he still loved her. But the memory of that last day was still too clear in his mind. The words she had spoken in heat of anger had burned themselves into his soul. In hot rage he had come out here to plunge into the perilous life in a vain effort to forget. His thoughts strayed to the strange postal he had received the day previous, and he began to puzzle his mind to decide who sent it, and what it could mean. For the communication was composed not of words, but of music— four measures to the Key of G. He hummed the notes over and over, and they had a strangely familiar sound ; he could not place the fragment. Abandoning the riddle as he rode around and around the cattle, he began to sing to pass the time. Suddenly in the midst he stopped short. He was singing the notes on the card. It came to him like a flash. He tore open his coat and drew out the postal. There was no mistake. He had solved the mystery. With a wild shout, he wheeled his horse and rode furiously to the camp, and reached Coberly, the boss, in two bounds.
I must be in Denver tonight,' he said. 'I want your best horse quick. I know it is a hundred and twenty miles to go, but it is only sixty to Empire, and I can get the train there. It leaves at one o'clock, and I can make it if you will lend me Star. I know he is your pet horse and you never let anyone ride him, but I tell you, Mr. Coberly, this means everything to me. I simply must get there tonight.'
"Mr. Coberly scowled. 'You ought to know, Jack, that I won't lend Star, so what's the use of askin'? What in thunder is the matter with you that you are in such a confounded rush?'
"Waring thought for a moment and then, drawing the boss beyond earshot, spoke to him earnestly, finally