“Roderick:—
“I am sure that what I am about to tell you will be for your good as well as my own. It seems so long ago since we were betrothed. At that time you were only a boy and I freely confess I liked you very, very much. I had known you during your four years in college and you were always just splendid. But Roderick, a real love affair has come into my life—something different from all other experiences, and when you receive this letter I shall be Mrs. Vance Albertrum Carter.
“Mr. Carter, financially, is able to give me a splendid home. He is a fine fellow and I know you would like him. Let me be to you the same as to the other boys of old Knox—your friend, the ‘college widow.’
“Very sincerely,
“Stella Rain.”
Not a muscle of his face quivered as he read the letter, but at its close he dropped both hands to his side in an attitude of utter dejection. The blow had fallen so unexpectedly; he felt crushed and grieved, and at the same time humiliated. But in an instant he had recovered his outward composure. He thrust the letter into his pocket, and shouldered his way through the throng at the doorway. He had left Badger in a stall at the fair grounds. Thither he bent his steps, taking a side street to avoid the crowd streaming into the town. The grandstand and surrounding buildings were already deserted. He quickly adjusted saddle and bridle, and threw himself on the pony’s back.
“‘She knows I would like him,’”he muttered, as he gained the race track, the scene of his recent triumphs, its turf torn and dented with the hoofs of struggling steers and horses, thronged but an hour before with a wildly excited multitude but now silent and void. “‘Like him’.” he reiterated bitterly. “Yes—like hell.”
And with the words he set his steed at the farther rail. Badger skimmed over it like a deer and Roderick galloped on across country, making for the hills.
That night he did not return to the bunk house.
It was high noon next day when he showed up at the ranch. He went straight to Mr. Shields’ office, gave in his resignation, and took his pay check. No explanations were required—Mr. Shields had known for a considerable time that Roderick was leaving. He thanked him cordially for his past services, congratulated him on his championship honors at the frontier celebration, and bade him come to the ranch home at any time as a welcome guest. Roderick excused himself from saying good-by for the present to the ladies; he was going to stay for a while in Encampment with his friend Grant Jones, and would ride out for an evening visit before very long. Then he packed his belongings at the bunk house, left word with one of the helpers for trunk and valise to be carted into town, and rode away. Badger was Roderick’s own personal property; he had purchased the pony some months before from Mr. Shields, and as he leaped on its back after closing the last boundary gate he patted the animal’s neck fondly and proudly. Badger alone was well worth many months of hard and oftentimes distasteful work, a horse at all events could be faithful, he and his good little pony would never part—such was the burden of his thoughts as he left the Shields ranch and the cowboy life behind him.
Grant Jones was in Encampment, and jumped up from his writing table when Roderick threw open the door of the shack and walked in.
“Hello, old man, this is indeed a welcome visit. Where in the wide world have you been?”
He turned Roderick around so the light would fall upon his face as he extended his hand in warmest welcome, and noticed he was haggard and pale.
“Oh,” said Roderick, “I have been up in the hills fighting it out alone, sleeping under the stars and thinking matters over.”