caught sight of a rider coming from the opposite direction. As they drew closer the other man swung his mount far to one side. Buck chuckled softly, seeing that the other evidently desired to pass without being recognized. The chuckle died when the stranger changed direction and rode straight for Buck. The latter pulled his horse to a quick stop and turned to face the on-comer. He made sure that his six-gun was loose in the holster, for it was always well to be prepared for the unusual in these chance meetings in the mountain-desert.
"Hey, Buck!" called the galloping horseman.
The hand of Daniels dropped away from his revolver, for he recognized the voice of Hal Purvis, who swiftly ranged alongside.
"What's the dope?" asked Buck, producing his tobacco and the inevitable brown papers.
"Jest lookin' the landscape over an' scoutin' around for news," answered Purvis.
"Pick up anything?"
"Yeh. Ran across some tenderfoot squatters jest out of Elkhead."
Buck grunted and lighted his cigarette.
"Which you've been sort of scarce around the outfit lately," went on Purvis.
"I'm headin' for the bunch now," said Buck.
