came under your influence. I will always remember you as the brightest star in the firmament of my life, and I will pray that you may never know the bitterness of misfortune. With a last loving kiss, good-by, and forgive me! My friend, Ben Oresky, will some day pay you back the loans you made me. "Yours, with best wishes for your future happiness, EDWARD."

He could not help but shed tears as he sealed this letter, but at the same time he felt satisfied. He felt like a man after accomplishing a hard duty; but it was done and he was almost proud of the fact.

The next morning, at the station where Ben accompanied him, they met the old actor who, true to his word, was there to bid him good-by.

Once more Edward was carried to an unknown country, but this time he felt easy. He was strong with the feeling of having sacrificed much for the sake of his duty, and already there seemed to be much more room in his heart for Marie Louise, of whom he could not think without blushing. After a day and a half of fast traveling he arrived at Grass Village where he was met by Mr. Goodnow, to whom he had written. This gentleman was a real western type, and Edward was pleased with the cordial manner in which he was received. After being taken to the house, Edward gave Mr. Goodnow his letter of recommendation from his old friend, and went upstairs to a room to wash himself. When he came down, he met the whole family, and felt at home from the first.

While Edward was getting acquainted with his new duties, his letter to Nellie had reached her, and as she read it, she felt hot tears come to her eyes, and for an instant her heart felt as if pierced by an arrow. She had never realized until then how much she really loved that young man. As she eat holding his letter in her hands, she saw her dream of anticipated happiness crumbled to pieces, and such a despair as had never before entered her soul came to her. "My God! My God!" she said, and then closed her eyes.

The heart of a woman is a strange thing, and Nellie's heart was one of the strangest. Having never before known what love was, she had all at once felt her whole being infected by a mighty passion, a passion such as no human being can feel twice, and now the object of her love had vanished. He was gone without even saying where. Her sorrow was almost as great as her love, and from this time Nellie King was a different woman. She broke her engagement in New York and came back to Chicago, where she tried in vain to learn where Edward had gone. The Russian had promised Edward not to reveal where he was, and he was true to his promise, hard as it was to refuse Nellie, to whom he owed his situation.

For twelve months Edward had lived on Mr. Goodnow's ranch, and his reputation as the best and most fearless rider on the ranch, as well as the most graceful, was a recognized fact, and that was enough to make him popular. His little mare, a perfect type of that class of horses, called "bronchos;" was the prettiest and swiftest on the ranch, and he had named her "Nellie," and indeed, any woman would have been proud to give her name to such a beauty. There were twelve cowboys on Goodnow's ranch, and every week, one of them had a day off, which was spent at his own discretion.

Cowboys as a class are a queer lot of men. They are fearless and brave to excess, and being isolated from society so much, they are often eccentric; but their eccentricity has its charms.

The fraternal feeling which exists among these men is of the genuine kind, and they are exceedingly generous in helping each other in case of misfortune. They practice all sorts of manly sports, and the feats they can accomplish on horseback are wonderful. It is an easy matter for some of them to lean on one side of their saddle while going at a great rate of speed, and pick up a small object on the ground. They are skillful shots in many ways, and one way that never fails to impress the "tenderfoot," is the shooting of a clay pipe at a distance of twenty-five feet, while held in the mouth of one of them, who apparently does not see much excitement in the act. It is great fun for them to "break in" a "tenderfoot," by which name they call any aspirant to the vocation of cowboy.

The meanest bucking bronco is brought to him to ride and behold! if the poor candidate cannot hold on to the saddle while the kicking brute is playing circus, the cowboys add to the excitement by their yells, often throwing small stones at the bucking cayuse.

Edward went through all their initiatory proceedings, and came out with the respect of the lookers-on; his popularity counted from that time.

Since his departure from Chicago, Edward had received many letters from his Russian friend, but very little had been said about Nellie. He was now a different man, not only in his general appearance, which was much improved by the open air life, but also morally. He had sent two hundred dollars to Ben, who paid it over to Nellie, and while he still felt more than a kindly feeling toward her, it was nothing like the old passion. On their "day off" cowboys usually go to some saloon, where they drink and play cards, and generally have as exciting a time as they can to make up for the monotony of their life in the field; but Edward preferred spending these days at the home of his employer, whose daughter Grace showed much partiality for the French lad, or French Ed, as he was now called by every one on the ranch.

Mr. Goodnow's only daughter Grace was a splendid young lady of eighteen, and quite a musician. She was very small and her face was too baby-like to be called real pretty, but her large blue eyes were soft and full of melancholy. She was a very interesting talker, and her horsemanship could not be excelled. She never failed to cause a smile of satisfaction on her father's face whenever she mounted Topsy, her spirited little thoroughbred black mare.

Grace always looked ahead to the time when French Ed was to come into town, because she took much pleasure in his company. It was great fun for her to ride his mare Nell, while he rode Topsy. Together, they would take long rides, sometimes taking their lunch with them, and stopping by some little running brook, where in the shade of some tree they would eat and enjoy life.

Grace was very much interested in everything that pertained to Edward's life. She too questioned him about his past, his schooldays, his folks, and one day she gave him one of her pictures to send to his sister. She never seemed to tire of hearing him talk, and he always found much pleasure in talking to her.

She admired him with that admiration that often leads to love, while he liked her with that feeling that is more than friendship and still cannot be called love. At times, Edward thought that he would like to take her little baby face in his hands and kiss her on the lips; but he knew what the result would be, and he contented himself in imagining how good it would be. Once, while Edward was singing a new song with Grace at the piano, he bent to see the notes, until his face rubbed against hers, and then he felt a strange dizziness come to his brain, and was raising his arms to put them around her neck, when she suddenly stood up and looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "Ed—"

Had she slapped him with her little hand he would not have felt nearly so bad as he did facing those large blue eyes, so reproachful and sad.

"Play 'El Diavolo,'" he asked her trying to hide his embarrassment, and she did.

Early the next morning Edward was on his way to his work. He had a distance of about twelve miles to ride, and the morning was so perfect that life seemed a blessing on such a day. It was one of those mornings that fill the soul with exhilaration, and makes you think of the greatness of the Creator of