WYOMING

A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST

By William MacLeod Raine

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 1. A DESERT MEETING 2. THE KING OF THE BIG HORN COUNTRY 3. AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED 4. AT THE LAZY D RANCH 5. THE DANCE AT FRASER'S 6. A PARTY CALL 7. THE MAN FROM THE SHOSHONE FASTNESSES 8. IN THE LAZY D HOSPITAL 9. A RESCUE 12. MISTRESS AND MAID 13. THE TWO COUSINS 14. FOR THE WORLD'S CHAMPIONSHIP 15. JUDD MORGAN PASSES 16. HUNTING BIG GAME 17. RUN TO EARTH 18. PLAYING FOR TIME 19. WEST POINT TO THE RESCUE 20. TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE 21. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS 22. EXIT THE KING 23. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING. 

CHAPTER 1. A DESERT MEETING

An automobile shot out from a gash in the hills and slipped swiftly downto the butte. Here it came to a halt on the white, dusty road, whileits occupant gazed with eager, unsated eyes on the great panorama thatstretched before her. The earth rolled in waves like a mighty sea tothe distant horizon line. From a wonderful blue sky poured down uponthe land a bath of sunbeat. The air was like wine, pure and strong, andabove the desert swam the rare, untempered light of Wyoming. Surely herewas a peace primeval, a silence unbroken since the birth of creation. 

It was all new to her, and wonderfully exhilarating. The infinite rollof plain, the distant shining mountains, the multitudinous voices of thedesert drowned in a sunlit sea of space--they were all details of thesituation that ministered to a large serenity. 

And while she breathed deeply the satisfaction of it, an exploding rifleecho shattered the stillness. With excited sputtering came the promptanswer of a fusillade. She was new to the West; but some instinctstronger than reason told the girl that here was no playful punchershooting up the scenery to ventilate his exuberance. Her imaginationconceived something more deadly; a sinister picture of men pumping leadin a grim, close-lipped silence; a lusty plainsman, with murder inhis heart, crumpling into a lifeless heap, while the thin smoke-spiralcurled from his hot rifle. 

So the girl imagined the scene as she ran swiftly forward through thepines to the edge of the butte bluff whence she might look down upon thecoulee that nestled against it. Nor had she greatly erred, for her firstsweeping glance showed her the thing she had dreaded. 

In a semicircle, well back from the foot of the butte, half a dozenmen crouched in the cover of the sage-brush and a scattered group ofcottonwoods. They were perhaps fifty yards apart, and the attentionof all of them was focused on a spot directly beneath her. Even as shelooked, in that first swift moment of apprehension, a spurt of smokecame from one of the rifles and was flung back from the forked pineat the bottom of the mesa. She saw him then, kneeling behind hisinsufficient shelter, a trapped man making his last stand. 

From where she stood the girl distinguished him very clearly, and underthe field-glasses that she turned on him the details leaped to life. Tall, strong, slender, with the lean, clean build of a greyhound, heseemed as wary and alert as a panther. The broad, soft hat, the scarlethandkerchief loosely knotted about his throat, the gray shirt, spursand overalls, proclaimed him a stockman, just as his dead horse at theentrance to the coulee told of an accidental meeting in the desert and ahurried run for cover. 

That he had no chance was quite plain, but no plainer than the coolvigilance with which he proposed to make them pay. Even in the matterof defense he was worse off than they were, but he knew how to makethe most of what he had; knew how to avail himself of every inch ofsagebrush that helped to render him indistinct to their eyes. 

One of the attackers, eager for a clearer shot, exposed himself a trifletoo far in taking aim. Without any loss of time in sighting, swift as alightning-flash, the rifle behind the forked pine spoke. That the bulletreached its mark she saw with a gasp of dismay. For the man suddenlyhuddled down and rolled over on his side. 

His comrades appeared to take warning by this example. The men at bothends of the crescent fell back, and for a minute the girl's heart leapedwith the hope that they were about to abandon the siege. Apparently theman in the scarlet kerchief had no such expectation. He deserted hisposition behind the pine and ran back, crouching low in the brush, toanother little clump of trees closer to the bluff. The reason for thiswas at first not apparent to her, but she understood presently when themen who had fallen back behind the rolling hillocks appeared again wellin to the edge of the bluff. Only by his timely retreat had the mansaved himself from being outflanked. 

It was very plain that the attackers meant to take their time to finishhim in perfect safety. He was surrounded on every side by a cordon ofrifles, except where the bare face of the butte hung down behind him. To attempt to scale it would have been to expose himself as a mark forevery gun to certain death. 

It was now that she heard the man who seemed to be directing the attackcall out to another on his right. She was too far to make out the words, but their effect was clear to her. He pointed to the brow of the butteabove, and a puncher in white woolen chaps dropped back out of rangeand swung to the saddle upon one of the ponies bunched in the rear. Hecantered round in a wide circle and made for the butte. His purpose wasobviously to catch their victim in the unprotected rear, and fire downupon him from above. 

The young woman shouted a warning, but her voice failed to carry. For amoment she stood with her hands pressed together in despair, thenturned and swiftly scudded to her machine. She sprang in, swept forward, reached the rim of the mesa, and plunged down. Never before had sheattempted so precarious a descent in such wild haste. The car fairlyleaped into space, and after it struck swayed dizzily as it shot down. The girl hung on, her face white and set, the pulse in her templebeating wildly. She could do nothing, as the machine rocked down, buthope against many chances that instant destruction might be averted. 

Utterly beyond her control, the motor-car thundered down, reached thefoot of the butte, and swept over a little hill in its wild flight. Sherushed by a mounted horseman in the thousandth part of a second. She wasstill speeding at a tremendous velocity, but a second hill reduced thissomewhat. She had not yet recovered control of the machine, but, thoughher eyes instinctively followed the white road that flashed past, sheagain had photographed on her brain the scene of the turbid tragedy inwhich she was intervening. 

At the foot of the butte the road circled and dipped into the coulee. She braced herself for the shock, but, though the wheels skidded tillher heart was in her throat, the automobile, hanging on the balance ofdisaster, swept round in safety. 

Her horn screamed an instant warning to the trapped man. She could notsee him, and for an instant her heart sank with the fear that theyhad killed him. But she saw then that they were still firing, and shecontinued her honking invitation as the car leaped forward into the zoneof spitting bullets. 

By this time she was recovering control of the motor, and she darednot let her attention wander, but out of the corner of her eye sheappreciated the situation. Temporarily, out of sheer amaze at thisapparition from the blue, the guns ceased their sniping. She becameaware that a light curly head, crouched low in the sage-brush, wasmoving rapidly to meet her at right angles, and in doing so wasapproaching directly the line of fire. She could see him dodging to andfro as he moved forward, for the rifles were again barking. 

She was within two hundred yards of him, still going rapidly, but notwith the same headlong rush as before, when the curly head disappearedin the sage-brush. It was up again presently, but she could see that theman came limping, and so uncertainly that twice he pitched forward tothe ground. Incautiously one of his assailants ran forward with a shoutthe second time his head went down. Crack! The unerring rifle rang out, and the impetuous one dropped in his tracks. 

As she approached, the young woman slowed without stopping, and as thecar swept past Curly Head flung himself in headlong. He picked himselfup from her feet, crept past her to the seat beyond, and almostinstantly whipped his rifle to his shoulder in prompt defiance of thefire that was now converged on them. 

Yet in a few moments the sound died away, for a voice midway in thecrescent had shouted an amazed discovery:

"By God, it's a woman!"

The car skimmed forward over the uneven ground toward the end of thesemicircle, and passed within fifty yards of the second man from theend, the one she had picked out as the leader of the party. He was ablack, swarthy fellow in plain leather chaps and blue shirt. As theypassed he took a long, steady aim. 

"Duck!" shouted the man beside her, and dragged her down on the seat sothat his body covered hers. 

A puff of wind fanned the girl's cheek. 

"Near thing, " her companion said coolly. He looked back at the swarthyman and laughed softly. "Some day you'll mebbe wish you had sent yourpills straighter, Mr. Judd Morgan. "

Yet a few wheel-turns and they had dipped forward out of range amongthe great land waves that seemed to stretch before them forever. Theunexpected had happened, and she had achieved a rescue in the face ofthe impossible. 

"Hurt badly?" the girl inquired briefly, her dark-blue eyes meeting hisas frankly as those of a boy. 

"No need for an undertaker. I reckon I'll survive, ma'am. "

"Where are you hit?"

"I just got a telegram from my ankle saying there was a cargo of leadarrived there unexpected, " he drawled easily. 

"Hurts a good deal, doesn't it?"

"No more than is needful to keep my memory jogged up. It's a sort of aforget-me-not souvenir. For a good boy; compliments of Mr. Jim Henson, "he explained. 

Her dark glance swept him searchingly. She disapproved the assuranceof his manner even while the youth in her applauded his recklesssufficiency. His gay courage held her unconsenting admiration even whileshe resented it. He was a trifle too much at his ease for one who hadjust been snatched from dire peril. Yet even in his insouciance therewas something engaging; something almost of distinction. 

"What was the trouble?"

Mirth bubbled in his gray eyes. "I gathered, ma'am, that they wanted tocollect my scalp. "

"Do what?" she frowned. 

"Bump me off--send me across the divide. "

"Oh, I know that. But why?"

He seemed to reproach himself. "Now how could I be so neglectful? Iclean forgot to ask. "

"That's ridiculous, " was her sharp verdict. 

"Yes, ma'am, plumb ridiculous. My only excuse is that they beganscattering lead so sudden I didn't have time to ask many 'Whyfors. ' Ireckon we'll just have to call it a Wyoming difference of opinion, " heconcluded pleasantly. 

"Which means, I suppose, that you are not going to tell me. "

"I got so much else to tell y'u that's a heap more important, " helaughed. "Y'u see, I'm enjoyin' my first automobile ride. It wascertainly thoughtful of y'u to ask me to go riding with y'u, MissMessiter. "

"So you know my name. May I ask how?" was her astonished question. 

He gave the low laugh that always seemed to suggest a private source ofamusement of his own. "I suspicioned that might be your name when I sayy'u come a-sailin' down from heaven to gather me up like Enoch. "

"Why?"

"Well, ma'am, I happened to drift in to Gimlet Butte two or three daysago, and while I was up at the depot looking for some freight a trainsashaid in and side tracked a flat car. There was an automobile on thatcar addressed to Miss Helen Messiter. Now, automobiles are awful seldomin this country. I don't seem to remember having seen one before. "

"I see. You're quite a Sherlock Holmes. Do you know anything more aboutme?"

"I know y'u have just fallen heir to the Lazy D. They say y'u are aschoolmarm, but I don't believe it. "

"Well, I am. " Then, "Why don't you believe it?" she added. 

He surveyed her with his smile audacious, let his amused eyes wanderdown from the mobile face with the wild-rose bloom to the slim youngfigure so long and supple, then serenely met her frown. 

"Y'u don't look it. "

"No? Are you the owner of a composite photograph of the teachers of thecountry?"

He enjoyed again his private mirth. "I should like right well to havethe pictures of some of them. "

She glanced at him sharply, but he was gazing so innocently at thepurple Shoshones in the distance that she could not give him the snubshe thought he needed. 

"You are right. My name is Helen Messiter, " she said, by way ofstimulating a counter fund of information. For, though she was a youngwoman not much given to curiosity, she was aware of an interest in thisspare, broad-shouldered youth who was such an incarnation of bronzedvigor. 

"Glad to meet y'u, Miss Messiter, " he responded, and offered his firmbrown hand in Western fashion. 

But she observed resentfully that he did not mention his own name. Itwas impossible to suppose that he knew no better, and she was drivento conclude that he was silent of set purpose. Very well! If he did notwant to introduce himself she was not going to urge it upon him. In abusinesslike manner she gave her attention to eating up the dusty miles. 

"Yes, ma'am. I reckon I never was more glad to death to meet a lady thanI was to meet up with y'u, " he continued, cheerily. "Y'u sure lookedgood to me as y'u come a-foggin' down the road. I fair had been yearnin'for company but was some discouraged for fear the invitation hadmiscarried. " He broke off his sardonic raillery and let his level gazepossess her for a long moment. "Miss Messiter, I'm certainly underan obligation to y'u I can't repay. Y'u saved my life, " he finishedgravely. 

"Nonsense. "

"Fact. "

"It isn't a personal matter at all, " she assured him, with a touch ofimpatient hauteur. 

"It 's a heap personal to me. "

In spite of her healthy young resentment she laughed at the way in whichhe drawled this out, and with a swift sweep her boyish eyes took inagain his compelling devil-may-care charm. She was a tenderfoot, butintuition as well as experience taught her that he was unusual enough tobe one of ten thousand. No young Greek god's head could have risenmore superbly above the brick-tanned column of the neck than thisclose-cropped curly one. Gray eyes, deep and unwavering and masterful, looked out of a face as brown as Wyoming. He was got up with no thoughtof effect, but the tigerish litheness, the picturesque competency ofhim, spake louder than costuming. 

"Aren't you really hurt worse than you pretend? I'm sure your ankleought to be attended to as soon as possible. "

"Don't tell me you're a lady doctor, ma'am, " he burlesqued his alarm. 

"Can you tell me where the nearest ranch house is?" she asked, ignoringhis diversion. 

"The Lazy D is the nearest, I reckon. "

"Which direction?"

"North by east, ma'am. "

"Then I'll take the most direct road to it. 

"In that case I'll thank y'u for my ride and get out here. "

"But--why?"

He waved a jaunty hand toward the recent battlefield. "The Lazy D liesright back of that hill. I expect, mebbe, those wolves might howl againif we went back. "

"Where, then, shall I take you?"

"I hate to trouble y'u to go out of your way. 

"I dare say, but I'm going just the same, " she told him, dryly. 

"If you're right determined--" He interrupted himself to point to thesouth. "Do y'u see that camel-back peak over there?"

"The one with the sunshine on its lower edge?"

"That's it, Miss Messiter. They call those two humps the Antelope Peaks. If y'u can drop me somewhere near there I think I'll manage all right. "

"I'm not going to leave you till we reach a house, " she informed himpromptly. "You're not fit to walk fifty yards. "

"That's right kind of y'u, but I could not think of asking so much. Myfriends will find me if y'u leave me where I can work a heliograph. "

"Or your enemies, " she cut in. 

"I hope not. I'd not likely have the luck to get another invitationright then to go riding with a friendly young lady. "

She gave him direct, cool, black-blue eyes that met and searched his. "I'm not at all sure she is friendly. I shall want to find out the causeof the trouble you have just had before I make up my mind as to that. "

"I judge people by their actions. Y'u didn't wait to find out beforebringing the ambulance into action, " he laughed. 

"I see you do not mean to tell me. "

"You're quite a lawyer, ma'am, " he evaded. 

"I find you a very slippery witness, then. "

"Ask anything y'u like and I'll tell you. "

"Very well. Who were those men, and why were they trying to kill you?"

"They turned their wolf loose on me because I shot up one of themyesterday. "

"Dear me! Is it your business to go around shooting people? That's threeI happen to know that you have shot. How many more?"

"No more, ma'am--not recently. "

"Well, three is quite enough--recently, " she mimicked. "You seem to me agood deal of a desperado. "

"Yes, ma'am. "

"Don't say 'Yes, ma'am, ' like that, as if it didn't matter in the leastwhether you are or not, " she ordered. 

"No, ma'am. "

"Oh!" She broke off with a gesture of impatience at his burlesque ofobedience. "You know what I mean--that you ought to deny it; ought to befurious at me for suggesting it. "

"Ought I?"

"Of course you ought. "

"There's a heap of ways I ain't up to specifications, " he admitted, cheerfully. 

"And who are they--the men that were attacking you?"

There was a gleam of irrepressible humor in the bold eyes. "Yourcow-punchers, ma'am. "

"My cow-punchers?"

"They ce'tainly belong to the Lazy D outfit. "

"And you say that you shot one of my men yesterday?" He could see hergetting ready for a declaration of war. 

"Down by Willow Creek--Yes, ma'am, " he answered, comfortably. 

"And why, may I ask?" she flamed

"That's a long story, Miss Messiter. It wouldn't be square for me to getmy version in before your boys. Y'u ask them. " He permitted himself agenial smile, somewhat ironic. "I shouldn't wonder but what they'll giveme a giltedged testimonial as an unhanged horse thief. "

"Isn't there such a thing as law in Wyoming?" the girl demanded. 

"Lots of it. Y'u can buy just as good law right here as in Kalamazoo. "

"I wish I knew where to find it. "

"Like to put me in the calaboose?"

"In the penitentiary. Yes, sir!" A moment later the question that was inher thoughts leaped hotly from her lips. "Who are you, sir, that dare tocommit murder and boast of it?"

She had flicked him on the raw at last. Something that was near to painrested for a second in his eyes. "Murder is a hard name, ma'am. And Ididn't say he was daid, or any of the three, " came his gentle answer. 

"You MEANT to kill them, anyhow. "

"Did I?" There was the ghost of a sad smile about his eyes. 

"The way you act, a person might think you one of Ned Bannister's men, "she told him, scornfully. 

"I expect you're right. "

She repented her a little at a charge so unjust. "If you are not ashamedof your name why are you so loath to part with it?"

"Y'u didn't ask me my name, " he said, a dark flush sweeping his face. 

"I ask it now. "

Like the light from a snuffed candle the boyish recklessness had goneout of his face. His jaws were set like a vise and he looked hard ashammered steel. 

"My name is Bannister, " he said, coldly. 

"Ned Bannister, the outlaw, " she let slip, and was aware of a strangesinking of the heart. 

It seemed to her that something sinister came to the surface in hishandsome face. "I reckon we might as well let it go at that, " hereturned, with bitter briefness. 

CHAPTER 2. THE KING OF THE BIG HORN COUNTRY

Two months before this time Helen Messiter had been serenely teaching asecond grade at Kalamazoo, Michigan, notwithstanding the earnest effortsof several youths of that city to induce her to retire to domesticity"What's the use of being a schoolmarm?" had been the burden of theirplaint. "Any spinster can teach kids C-A-T, Cat, but only one inseveral thousand can be the prettiest bride in Kalamazoo. " None of them, however, had been able to drive the point sufficiently home, and itis probable that she would have continued to devote herself to YoungAmerica if an uncle she had never seen had not died without a will andleft her a ranch in Wyoming yclept the Lazy D. 

When her lawyer proposed to put the ranch on the market Miss Helen had aword to say. 

"I think not. I'll go out and see it first, anyhow, " she said. 

"But really, my dear young lady, it isn't at all necessary. Fact is, I've already had an offer of a hundred thousand dollars for it. Now, Ishould judge that a fair price. "

"Very likely, " his client interrupted, quietly. "But, you see, I don'tcare to sell. "

"Then what in the world are you going to do with it?"

"Run it. "

"But, my dear Miss Messiter, it isn't an automobile or any other kind oftoy. You must remember that it takes a business head and a great deal ofexperience to make such an investment pay. I really think--"

"My school ends on the fourteenth of June. I'll get a substitute for thelast two months. I shall start for Wyoming on the eighteenth of April. "

The man of law gasped, explained the difficulties again carefully as toa child, found that he was wasting his breath, and wisely gave it up. 

Miss Messiter had started on the eighteenth of April, as she hadannounced. When she reached Gimlet Butte, the nearest railroad pointto the Lazy D, she found a group of curious, weatherbeaten individualsgathered round a machine foreign to their experience. It was on a flatcar, and the general opinion ran the gamut from a newfangled sewingmachine to a thresher. Into this guessing contest came its owner withso brisk and businesslike an energy that inside of two hours she wastesting it up and down the wide street of Gimlet Butte, to the wonderand delight of an audience to which each one of the eleven saloons ofthe city had contributed its admiring quota. 

Meanwhile the young woman attended strictly to business. She haddisappeared for half an hour with a suit case into the Elk House;and when she returned in a short-skirted corduroy suit, leggings andwide-brimmed gray Stetson hat, all Gimlet Butte took an absorbinginterest in the details of this delightful adventure that had happenedto the town. The population was out _en masse_ to watch her slip downthe road on a trial trip. 

Presently "Soapy" Sothern, drifting in on his buckskin from the HoodooPeak country, where for private reasons of his own he had been for thepast month a sojourner, reported that he had seen the prettiest sightin the State climbing under a gasoline bronc with a monkey-wrench inher hand. Where? Right over the hill on the edge of town. The immediatestampede for the cow ponies was averted by a warning chug-chug thatsounded down the road, followed by the appearance of a flashing whirthat made the ponies dance on their hind legs. 

"The gasoline bronc lady sure makes a hit with me, " announced "Texas, "gravely. "I allow I'll rustle a job with the Lazy D outfit. "

"She ce'tainly rides herd on that machine like a champeen, " admittedSoapy. "I reckon I'll drift over to the Lazy D with you to look afteryore remains, Tex, when the lightning hits you. "

Miss Messiter swung the automobile round in a swift circle, came to anabrupt halt in front of the hotel, and alighted without delay. As shepassed in through the half score of admirers she had won, her dark eyesswept smilingly over assembled Cattleland. She had already met most ofthem at the launching of the machine from the flat car, and had directedtheir perspiring energies as they labored to follow her orders. Now shenodded a recognition with a little ripple of gay laughter. 

"I'm delighted to be able to contribute to the entertainment of GimletButte, " she said, as she swept in. For this young woman was possessedof Western adaptation. It gave her no conscientious qualms to exchangeconversation fraternal with these genial savages. 

The Elk House did not rejoice in a private dining room, and competitionstrenuous ensued as to who should have the pleasure of sitting besidethe guest of honor. To avoid ill feeling, the matter was determined bya game of freeze-out, in which Texas and a mature gentleman named, from his complexion, "Beet" Collins, were the lucky victors. Texasimmediately repaired to the general store, where he purchased a newscarlet bandanna for the occasion; also a cake of soap with which torout the alkali dust that had filtered into every pore of his hands andface from a long ride across the desert. 

Came supper and Texas simultaneously, the cow-puncher's face scrubbedto an apple shine. At the last moment Collins defaulted, his nervecompletely gone. Since, however, he was a thrifty soul, he sold hisplace to Soapy for ten dollars, and proceeded to invest the proceeds inan immediate drunk. 

During the first ten minutes of supper Miss Messiter did not appear, andthe two guardians who flanked her chair solicitously were the object ofmuch badinage. 

"She got one glimpse of that red haid of Tex and the pore lady's took tothe sage, " explained Yorky. 

"And him scrubbed so shiny fust time since Christmas before the bigblizzard, " sighed Doc Rogers. 

"Shucks! She ain't scared of no sawed-off, hammered-down runt likeTexas, No, siree! Miss Messiter's on the absent list 'cause she's afraidshe cayn't resist the blandishments of Soapy. Did yo' ever hear aboutSoapy and that Caspar hash slinger?"

"Forget it, Slim, " advised Soapy, promptly. He had been engaged in loftyand oblivious conversation with Texas, but he did not intend to allowreminiscences to get under way just now. 

At this opportune juncture arrived the mistress of the "gasoline bronc, "neatly clad in a simple white lawn with blue trimmings. She looked likea gleam of sunshine in her fresh, sweet youth; and not even in her ownschool room had she ever found herself the focus of a cleaner, moreunstinted admiration. For the outdoors West takes off its hat reverentlyto women worthy of respect, especially when they are young and friendly. 

Helen Messiter had come to Wyoming because the call of adventure, thedesire for experience outside of rutted convention, were stirring herwarm-blooded youth. She had seen enough of life lived in a parlor, andwhen there came knocking at her door a chance to know the big, untamedoutdoors at first hand she had at once embraced it like a lover. Shewas eager for her new life, and she set out skillfully to make thesemen tell her what she wanted to know. To them, of course, it was an oldstory, and whatever of romance it held was unconscious. But since shewanted to talk of the West they were more than ready to please her. 

So she listened, and drew them out with adroit questions when it wasnecessary. She made them talk of life on the open range, of rustlers andthose who lived outside the law in the upper Shoshone country, of thedeadly war waging between the cattle and sheep industries. 

"Are there any sheep near the Lazy D ranch?" she asked, intenselyinterested in Soapy's tale of how cattle and sheep could no more be gotto mix than oil and water. 

For an instant nobody answered her question; then Soapy replied, withwhat seemed elaborate carelessness:

"Ned Bannister runs a bunch of about twelve thousand not more'n fifteenor twenty miles from your place. "

"And you say they are spoiling the range?"

"They're ce'tainly spoiling it for cows. "

"But can't something be done? If my cows were there first I don't seewhat right he has to bring his sheep there, " the girl frowned. 

The assembled company attended strictly to supper. The girl, surprisedat the stillness, looked round. "Well?"

"Now you're shouting, ma'am! That's what we say, " enthused Texas, spurring to the rescue. 

"It doesn't much matter what you say. What do you do?" asked Helen, impatiently. "Do you lie down and let Mr. Bannister and his kind drivetheir sheep over you?"

"Do we, Soapy?" grinned Texas. Yet it seemed to her his smile was notquite carefree. 

"I'm not a cowman myself, " explained Soapy to the girl. "Nor do I runsheep. I--"

"Tell Miss Messiter what yore business is, Soapy, " advised Yorky fromthe end of the table, with a mouthful of biscuit swelling his cheeks. 

Soapy crushed the irrepressible Yorky with a look, but that young manhit back smilingly. 

"Soapy, he sells soap, ma'am. He's a sorter city salesman, I reckon. "

"I should never have guessed it. Mr. Sothern does not LOOK likea salesman, " said the girl, with a glance at his shrewd, hard, expressionless face. 

"Yes, ma'am, he's a first-class seller of soap, is Mr. Sothern, "chuckled the cow-puncher, kicking his friends gayly under the table. 

"You can see I never sold HIM any, Miss Messiter, " came back Soapy, sorrowfully. 

All this was Greek to the young lady from Kalamazoo. How was she to knowthat Mr. Sothern had vended his soap in small cubes on street corners, and that he wrapped bank notes of various denominations in the bars, which same were retailed to eager customers for the small sum of fiftycents, after a guarantee that the soap was good? His customers rarelypatronized him twice; and frequently they used bad language becausethe soap wrapping was not as valuable as they had expected. This wasmanifestly unfair, for Mr. Sothern, who made no claims to philanthropy, often warned them that the soap should be bought on its merits, and notwith an eye single to the premium that might or might not accompany thepackage. 

"I started to tell you, ma'am, when that infant interrupted, thatthe cowmen don't aim to quit business yet a while. They've drawn adead-line, Miss Messiter. "

"A dead-line?"

"Yes, ma'am, beyond which no sheep herder is to run his bunch. "

"And if he does?" the girl asked, open eyed. 

"He don't do it twict, ma'am. Why don't you pass the fritters to MissMessiter, Slim?"

"And about this Bannister Who is he?"

Her innocent question seemed to ring a bell for silence; seemed to carrywith it some hidden portent that stopped idle conversation as a strikingclock that marks the hour of an execution. 

The smile that had been gay grew grim, and men forgot the subject oftheir light, casual talk. It was Sothern that answered her, andshe observed that his voice was grave, his face studiously withoutexpression. 

"Mr. Bannister, ma'am, is a sheepman. "

"So I understood, but--" Her eyes traveled swiftly round the table, andappraised the sudden sense of responsibility that had fallen on thesereckless, careless frontiersmen. "I am wondering what else he is. Really, he seems to be the bogey man of Gimlet Butte. "

There was another instant silence, and again it was Soapy that liftedit. "I expaict you'll like Wyoming, Miss Messiter; leastways I hope youwill. There's a right smart of country here. " His gaze went out of theopen door to the vast sea of space that swam in the fine sunset light. "Yes, most folks that ain't plumb spoilt with city ways likes it. "

"Sure she'll like it. Y'u want to get a good, easy-riding hawss, MissMessiter, " advised Slim. 

"And a rifle, " added Texas, promptly. 

It occurred to her that they were all working together to drift theconversation back to a safe topic. She followed the lead given her, but she made up her mind to know what it was about her neighbor, Mr. Bannister, the sheep herder, that needed to be handled with suchwariness and circumspection of speech. 

Her chance came half an hour later, when she stood talking to thelandlady on the hotel porch in the mellow twilight that seemed to reston the land like a moonlit aura. For the moment they were alone. 

"What is it about this man Bannister that makes men afraid to speak ofhim?" she demanded, with swift impulse. 

Her landlady's startled eyes went alertly round to see that they werealone. "Hush, child! You mustn't speak of him like that, " warned theolder woman. 

"Why mustn't I? That's what I want to know. "

"Is isn't healthy. "

"What do you mean?"

Again that anxious look flashed round in the dusk. "The Bannister outfitis the worst in the land. Ned Bannister is king of the whole Big Horncountry and beyond that to the Tetons. "

"And you mean to tell me that everybody is afraid of him--that men likeMr. Sothern dare not say their soul is their own?" the newcomer asked, contemptuously. 

"Not so loud, child. He has spies everywhere That's the trouble. Youdon't know who is in with him. He's got the whole region terrified. "

"Is he so bad?"

"He is a devil. Last year he and his hell riders swept down on Topaz andkilled two bartenders just to see them kick, Ned Bannister said. Folksallow they knew too much. "

"But the law--the Government? Haven't you a sheriff and officers?"

"Bannister has. He elects the sheriff in this county. "

"Aren't there more honest people here than villains?"

"Ten times as many, but the trouble is that the honest folks can't trusteach other. You see, if one of them made a mistake and confided in thewrong man--well, some fine day he would go riding herd and would notturn up at night. Next week, or next month, maybe, one of his partnersmight find a pile of bones in an arroyo. 

"Have you ever seen this Bannister?"

"You MUST speak lower when you talk of him, Miss Messiter, " the womaninsisted. "Yes, I saw him once; at least I think I did. Mighty few folksknow for sure that they have seen him. He is a mystery, and he travelsunder many names and disguises. "

"When was it you think you saw him?"

"Two years ago at Ayr. The bank was looted that night and robbed ofthirty thousand dollars. They roused the cashier from his bed and madehim give the combination. He didn't want to, and Ned Bannister"--hervoice sank to a tremulous whisper--"put red-hot running-irons betweenhis fingers till he weakened. It was a moonlight night--much such anight as this--and after it was done I peeped through the blind of myroom and saw them ride away. He rode in front of them and sang like anangel--did it out of daredeviltry to mock the people of the town thathadn't nerve enough to shoot him. You see, he knew that nobody woulddare hurt him 'count of the revenge of his men. "

"What was he like?" the mistress of the Lazy D asked, strangely awed atthis recital of transcendent villainy. 

"'Course he was masked, and I didn't see his face. But I'd know himanywhere. He's a long, slim fellow, built like a mountain lion. Youcouldn't look at him and ever forget him. He's one of these graceful, easy men that go so fur with fool women; one of the kind that half shutshis dark, devil eyes and masters them without seeming to try. "

"So he's a woman killer, too, is he? Any more outstandinginconsistencies in this versatile Jesse James?"

"He's plumb crazy about music, they say. Has a piano and plays Grigg andChopping, and all that classical kind of music. He went clear down toDenver last year to hear Mrs. Shoeman sing. "

Helen smiled, guessing at Schumann-Heink as the singer in question, andGrieg and Chopin as the composers named. Her interest was incrediblyaroused. She had expected the West and its products to exhilarate her, but she had not looked to find so finished a Mephisto among its vaunted"bad men. " He was probably overrated; considered a wonder because hisaccomplishments outstepped those of the range. But Helen Messiter hadquite determined on one thing. She was going to meet this redoubtablevillain and make up her mind for herself. Already, before she had beenin Wyoming six hours, this emancipated young woman had decided on that. 

CHAPTER 3. AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED

And already she had met him. Not only met him, but saved him from thejust vengeance about to fall upon him. She had not yet seen her ownranch, had not spoken to a single one of her employees, for it hadbeen a part of her plan to drop in unexpected and examine the situationbefore her foreman had a chance to put his best foot forward. So shehad started alone from Gimlet Butte that morning in her machine, and hadcome almost in sight of the Lazy D ranch houses when the battle in thecoulee invited her to take a hand. 

She had acted on generous impulse, and the unforeseen result had been tosave this desperado from justice. But the worst of it was that she couldnot find it in her heart to regret it. Granted that he was a villain, double-dyed and beyond hope, yet he was the home of such courage, suchvirility, that her unconsenting admiration went out in spite of herself. He was, at any rate, a MAN, square-jawed, resolute, implacable. In thesinuous trail of his life might lie arson, robbery, murder, but he stillheld to that dynamic spark of self-respect that is akin to the divine. Nor was it possible to believe that those unblinking gray eyes, withthe capability of a latent sadness of despair in them, expressed a soulentirely without nobility. He had a certain gallant ease, a certainattractive candor, that did not consist with villainy unadulterated. 

It was characteristic even of her impulsiveness that Helen Messitercurbed the swift condemnation that leaped to her lips when she knewthat the man sitting beside her was the notorious bandit of the Shoshonefastnesses. She was not in the least afraid. A sure instinct told her hewas not the kind of a man of whom a woman need have fear so long asher own anchor held fast. In good time she meant to let him haveher unvarnished opinion of him, but she did not mean it to be anunconsidered one. Wherefore she drove the machine forward toward thecamelbacked peak he had indicated, her eyes straight before her, a frowncorrugating her forehead. 

For him, having made his dramatic announcement, he seemed content forthe present with silence. He leaned back in the car and appreciated herwith a coolness that just missed impudence. Certainly her appearanceproclaimed her very much worth while. To dwell on the long lines of hersupple young body, the exquisite throat and chin curve, was a pleasurewith a thrill to it. As a physical creation, a mere innocent younganimal, he thought her perfect; attuned to a fine harmony of graceand color. But it was the animating vitality of her, the lightness ofmotion, the fire and sparkle of expression that gave her the captivatingcharm she possessed. 

They were two miles nearer the camel-backed peak before he broke thesilence. 

"Beats a bronco for getting over the ground. Think I'll have to getone, " he mused aloud. 

"With the money you took from the Ayr bank?" she flashed. 

"I might drive off some of your cows and sell them, " he countered, promptly. "About how much will they hold me up for a machine like this?"

"This is only a runabout. You can get one for twelve or fourteen hundreddollars of anybody's money. "

"Of yours?" he laughed. 

"I haven't that much with me. If you'll come over and hold up the ranchperhaps we might raise it among us, " she jeered. 

His mirth was genuine. "But right now I couldn't get more than how muchoff y'u?"

"Sixty-three dollars is all I have with me, and I couldn't give youmore--NOT EVEN IF YOU PUT RED HOT IRONS BETWEEN MY FINGERS. " She gave itto him straight, her blue eyes fixed steadily on him. 

Yet she was not prepared for the effect of her words. The last thing shehad expected was to see the blood wash out of his bronzed face, to seehis sensitive nostrils twitch with pain. He made her feel as if she hadinsulted him, as if she had been needlessly cruel. And because of it shehardened her heart. Why should she spare him the mention of it? He hadnot hesitated at the shameless deed itself. Why should she shrink beforethat wounded look that leaped to his fine eyes in that flash of timebefore he hardened them to steel?

"You did it--didn't you?" she demanded. 

"That's what they say. " His gaze met her defiantly. 

"And it is true, isn't it?"

"Oh, anything is true of a man that herds sheep, " he returned, bitterly. 

"If that is true it would not be possible for you to understand how muchI despise you. "

"Thank you, " he retorted, ironically. 

"I don't understand at all. I don't see how you can be the man theysay you are. Before I met you it was easy to understand. But somehow--Idon't know--you don't LOOK like a villain. " She found herself strangelyvoicing the deep hope of her heart. It was surely impossible to look athim and believe him guilty of the things of which, he was accused. Andyet he offered no denial, suggested no defense. 

Her troubled eyes went over his thin, sunbaked face with its touch, of bitterness, and she did not find it possible to dismiss the subjectwithout giving him a chance to set himself right. 

"You can't be as bad as they say. You are not, are you?" she asked, naively. 

"What do y'u think?" he responded, coolly. 

She flushed angrily at what she accepted as his insolence. "A man of anydecency would have jumped at the chance to explain. "

"But if there is nothing to explain?"

"You are then guilty. "

Their eyes met, and neither of them quailed. 

"If I pleaded not guilty would y'u believe me?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. How could I when it is known by everybody?And yet--"

He smiled. "Why should I trouble y'u, then, with explanations? I reckonwe'll let it go at guilty. "

"Is that all you can say for yourself?"

He seemed to hang in doubt an instant, then shook his head and refusedthe opening. 

"I expect if we changed the subject I could say a good deal for y'u, " hedrawled. "I never saw anything pluckier than the way y'u flew down fromthe mesa and conducted the cutting-out expedition. Y'u sure drilledthrough your punchers like a streak of lightning. "

"I didn't know who you were, " she explained, proudly. 

"Would it have made any difference if y'u had?"

Again the angry flush touched her cheeks. "Not a bit. I would have savedyou in order to have you properly hanged later, " she cut back promptly. 

He shook his head gayly. "I'm ce'tainly going to disappoint y'u some. Your enterprising punchers may collect me yet, but not alive, I reckon. "

"I'll give them strict orders to bring you in alive. "

"Did you ever want the moon when y'u was a little kid?" he asked. 

"We'll see, Mr. Outlaw Bannister. "

He laughed softly, in the quiet, indolent fashion that would have beenpleasant if it had not been at her. "It's right kind of you to take somuch interest in me. I'd most be willing to oblige by letting your boysrope me to renew this acquaintance, ma'am. " Then, "I get out here MissMessiter, " he added. 

She stopped on the instant. Plainly she could not get rid of him toosoon. "Haven't you forgot one thing?" she asked, ironically. 

"Yes, ma'am. To thank you proper for what y'u did for me. " He limpedgingerly down from the car and stood with his hand on one of the tires. "I have been trying to think how to say it right; but I guess I'll haveto give it up. All is that if I ever get a chance to even the score--"

She waved his thanks aside impatiently "I didn't mean that. You haveforgotten to take my purse. "

His gravity was broken on the instant, and his laughter was certainlydelightfully fresh. "I clean forgot, but I expect I'll drop over to theranch for it some day. "

"We'll try to make to make you welcome, Mr. Bannister. "

"Don't put yourself out at all. I'll take pot-luck when I come. "

"How many of you may we expect?" she asked, defiantly. 

"Oh, I allow to come alone. "

"You'll very likely forget. "

"No, ma'am, I don't know so many ladies that I'm liable to such anoversight. 

"I have heard a different story. But if you do remember to come, and will let us know when you expect to honor the Lazy D, I'll havemessengers sent to meet you. "

He perfectly understood her to mean leaden ones, and the humorous gleamin his eye sparkled in appreciation of her spirit. "I don't want allthat fuss made over me. I reckon I'll drop in unexpected, " he said. 

She nodded curtly. "Good-bye. Hope your ankle won't trouble you verymuch. "

"Thank y'u, ma'am. I reckon it won't. Good-bye, Miss Messiter. "

Out of the tail of her eye she saw him bowing like an Italian operasinger, as impudently insouciant, as gracefully graceless as any stagevillain in her memory. Once again she saw him, when her machine sweptround a curve and she could look back without seeming to do so, limpingacross through the sage brush toward a little hillock near the road. Andas she looked the bare, curly head was inclined toward her in anotherlow, mocking bow. He was certainly the gallantest vagabond unhanged. 

CHAPTER 4. AT THE LAZY D RANCH

Helen Messiter was a young woman very much alive, which implies that shewas given to emotions; and as her machine skimmed over the ground tothe Lazy D she had them to spare. For from the first this young man hadtaken her eye, and it had come upon her with a distinct shock that hewas the notorious scoundrel who was terrorizing the countryside. Shetold herself almost passionately that she would never have believed itif he had not said so himself. She knew quite well that the coldnessthat had clutched her heart when he gave his name had had nothing to dowith fear. There had been chagrin, disappointment, but nothing in theleast like the terror she might have expected. The simple truth was thathe had seemed so much a man that it had hurt her to find him also a wildbeast. 

Deep in her heart she resented the conviction forced upon her. Recklesshe undoubtedly was, at odds with the law surely, but it was hard toadmit that attractive personality to be the mask of fiendish crueltyand sinister malice. And yet--the facts spoke for themselves. He had noteven attempted a denial. Still there was a mystery about him, else howwas it possible for two so distinct personalities to dwell together inthe same body. 

She hated him with all her lusty young will; not only for what he was, but also for what she had been disappointed in not finding him after herfirst instinctive liking. Yet it was with an odd little thrill thatshe ran down again into the coulee where her prosaic life had found itsfirst real adventure. He might be all they said, but nothing could wipeout the facts that she had offered her life to save his, and that hehad lent her his body as a living shield for one exhilarating moment ofdanger. 

As she reached the hill summit beyond the coulee, Helen Messiterwas aware that a rider in ungainly chaps of white wool was rapidlyapproaching. He dipped down into the next depression without seeing her;and when they came face to face at the top of the rise the result wasinstantaneous. His pony did an animated two-step not on the programme. It took one glance at the diabolical machine, and went up on its hindlegs, preliminary to giving an elaborate exhibition of pitching. Therider indulged in vivid profanity and plied his quirt vigorously. Butthe bronco, with the fear of this unknown evil on its soul, varied itsbucking so effectively that the puncher astride its hurricane deck wasforced, in the language of his kind, to "take the dust. "

His red head sailed through the air and landed in the white sand atthe girl's feet. For a moment he sat in the road and gazed with chagrinafter the vanishing heels of his mount. Then his wrathful eyes cameround to the owner of the machine that had caused the eruption. Hismouth had opened to give adequate expression to his feelings, when hediscovered anew the forgotten fact that he was dealing with a woman. His jaw hung open for an instant in amaze; and when he remembered theunedited vocabulary he had turned loose on the world a flood of purpleswept his tanned face. 

She wanted to laugh, but wisely refrained. "I'm very sorry, " was whatshe said. 

He stared in silence as he slowly picked himself from the ground. Hisred hair rose like the quills of a porcupine above a face that had theappearance of being unfinished. Neither nose nor mouth nor chin seemedto be quite definite enough. 

She choked down her gayety and offered renewed apologies. 

"I was going for a doc, " he explained, by way of opening his share ofthe conversation. 

"Then perhaps you had better jump in with me and ride back to the LazyD. I suppose that's where you came from?"

He scratched his vivid head helplessly. "Yes, ma'am. "

"Then jump in. "

"I was going to Bear Creek, ma'am, " he added dubiously. 

"How far is it?"

"'Bout twenty-five miles, and then some. "

"You don't expect to walk, do you?"

"No; I allowed--"

"I'll take you back to the ranch, where you can get another horse. "

"I reckon, ma'am, I'd ruther walk. "

"Nonsense! Why?"

"I ain't used to them gas wagons. "

"It's quite safe. There is nothing to be afraid of. "

Reluctantly he got in beside her, as happy as a calf in a branding pen. 

"Are you the lady that sashaid off with Ned Bannister?" he askedpresently, after he had had time to smother successively some of hisfear, wonder and delight at their smooth, swift progress. 

"Yes. Why?"

"The boys allow you hadn't oughter have done it. " Then, to place theresponsibility properly on shoulders broader than his own, he added:"That's what Judd says. "

"And who is Judd?"

"Judd, he's the foreman of the Lazy D. "

Below them appeared the corrals and houses of a ranch nestling in alittle valley flanked by hills. 

"This yere's the Lazy D, " announced the youth, with pride, and in thespirit of friendliness suggested a caution. "Judd, he's some peppery. You wanter smooth him down some, seeing as he's riled up to-day. "

A flicker of steel came into the blue eyes. "Indeed! Well, here we are. "

"If it ain't Reddy, AND the lady with the flying machine, " murmured afreckled youth named McWilliams, emerging from the bunkhouse with a panof water which had been used to bathe the wound of one of the puncturedcombatants. 

"What's that?" snapped a voice from within; and immediately its ownerappeared in the doorway and bored with narrowed black eyes the youngwoman in the machine. 

"Who are you?" he demanded, brusquely. 

"Your target, " she answered, quietly. "Would you like to take anothershot at me?"

The freckled lad broke out into a gurgle of laughter, at which theblack, swarthy man beside him wheeled round in a rage. "What youcacklin' at, Mac?" he demanded, in a low voice. 

"Oh, the things I notice, " returned that youth jauntily, meeting theother's anger without the flicker of an eyelid. 

"It ain't healthy to be so noticin', " insinuated the other. 

"Y'u don't say, " came the prompt, sarcastic retort. "If you're such adarned good judge of health, y'u better be attending to some of yourpatients. " He jerked a casual thumb over his shoulder toward the bunkson which lay the wounded men. 

"I shouldn't wonder but what there might be another patient for me toattend to, " snarled the foreman. 

"That so? Well, turn your wolf loose when y'u get to feelin' realdevilish, " jeered the undismayed one, strolling forward to assist MissMessiter to alight. 

The mistress of the Lazy D had been aware of the byplay, but she hadcaught neither the words nor their import. She took the offered brownhand smilingly, for here again she looked into the frank eyes of theWest, unafraid and steady. She judged him not more than twenty-two, but the school where he had learned of life had held open and strenuoussession every day since he could remember. 

"Glad to meet y'u, ma'am, " he assured her, in the current phrase of thesemi-arid lands. 

"I'm sure I am glad to meet YOU, " she answered, heartily. "Can you tellme where is the foreman of the Lazy D?"

He introduced with a smile the swarthy man in the doorway. "This is himma'am--Mr. Judd Morgan. "

Now it happened that Mr. Judd Morgan was simmering with suppressedspleen. 

"All I've got to say is that you had no business mixing up in thatshootin' affair back there. Perhaps you don't know that the man yousaved is Ned Bannister, the outlaw, " was his surly greeting. 

"Oh, yes, I know that. "

"Then what d'ye mean--Who are you, anyway?" His insolent eyes coastedmalevolently over her. 

"Helen Messiter is my name. "

It was ludicrous to see the change that came over the man. He had beenprepared to bully her; and with a word she had pricked the bubble of hisarrogance. He swallowed his anger and got a mechanical smile in workingorder. 

"Glad to see you here, Miss Messiter, " he said, his sinister gazeattempting to meet hers frankly "I been looking for you every day. "

"But y'u managed to surprise him, after all ma'am, " chuckled Mac. 

"Where's yo' hawss, Reddy?" inquired a tall young man, who had appearedsilently in the doorway of the bunkhouse. 

Reddy pinked violently. "I had an accident, Denver, " he explained. "Thislady yere she--"

"Scooped y'u right off yore hawss. Y'u don't say, " sympathized Mac sobreathlessly that even Reddy joined in the chorus of laughter that wentup at his expense. 

The young woman thought to make it easy for him, and suggested anexplanation. 

"His horse isn't used to automobiles, and so when it met this one--"

"I got off, " interposed Reddy hastily, displaying a complexion like aboiled beet. 

"He got off, " Mac explained gravely to the increasing audience. 

Denver nodded with an imperturbable face. "He got off. "

Mac introduced Miss Messiter to such of her employees as were on hand. "Shake hands with Miss Messiter, Missou, " was the formula, the namealone varying to suit the embarrassed gentlemen in leathers. Each ofthem in turn presented a huge hand, in which her little one disappearedfor the time, and was sawed up and down in the air like a pump-handle. Yet if she was amused she did not show it; and her pleasure at meetingthe simple, elemental products of the plains outweighed a great deal hersense of the ludicrous. 

"How are your patients getting along?" she presently asked of herforeman. 

"I reckon all right. I sent Reddy for a doc, but--"

"He got off, " murmured Mac pensively. 

"I'll go rope another hawss, " put in the man who had got off. 

"Get a jump on you, then. Miss Messiter, would you like to look over theplace?"

"Not now. I want to see the men that were hurt. Perhaps I can help them. Once I took a few weeks in nursing. "

"Bully for you, ma'am, " whooped Mac. "I've a notion those boys aresufferin' for a woman to put the diamond-hitch on them bandages. "

"Bring that suit-case in, " she commanded Denver, in the gentlest voicehe had ever heard, after she had made a hasty inspection of the firstwounded man. 

From the suit-case she took a little leather medicine-case, the kindthat can be bought already prepared for use. It held among other thingsa roll of medicated cotton, some antiseptic tablets, and a little steelinstrument for probing. 

"Some warm water, please; and have some boiling on the range, " were hernext commands. 

Mac flew to execute them. 

It was a pleasure to see her work, so deftly the skillful handsaccomplished what her brain told them. In admiring awe the punchersstood awkwardly around while she washed and dressed the hurts. Two ofthe bullets had gone through the fleshy part of the arm and left cleanwounds. In the case of the third man she had to probe for the lead, butfortunately found it with little difficulty. Meanwhile she soothed thevictim with gentle womanly sympathy. 

"I know it hurts a good deal. Just a minute and I'll be through. "

His hands clutched tightly the edges of his bunk. "That's all right, doc. You attend to roping that pill and I'll endure the grief. "

A long sigh of relief went up from the assembled cowboys when she drewthe bullet out. 

The sinewy hands fastened on the wooden bunk relaxed suddenly. 

"'Frisco's daid, " gasped the cook, who bore the title of Wun Hop forno reason except that he was an Irishman in a place formerly held by aChinese. 

"He has only fainted, " she said quietly, and continued with theantiseptic dressing. 

When it was all over, the big, tanned men gathered at the entrance tothe calf corral and expanded in admiration of their new boss. 

"She's a pure for fair. She grades up any old way yuh take her tothe best corn-fed article on the market, " pronounced Denver, withenthusiasm. 

"I got to ride the boundary, " sighed Missou. "I kinder hate to go rightnow. "

"Here, too, " acquiesced another. "I got a round-up on Wind Creek to cutout them two-year-olds. If 'twas my say-so, I'd order Mac on that job. "

"Right kind of y'u. Seems to me"--Mac's sarcastic eye trailed around toinclude all those who had been singing her praises--"the new queen ofthis hacienda won't have no trouble at all picking a prince consort whenshe gets round to it. Here's Wun Hop, not what y'u might call anxious, but ce'tainly willing. Then Denver's some in the turtle-dove business, according to that hash-slinger in Cheyenne. Missou might be induced toaccept if it was offered him proper; and I allow Jim ain't turned thecolor of Redtop's hair jest for instance. I don't want to leave out'Frisco and the other boys carrying Bannister's pills--"

"Nor McWilliams. I'd admire to include him, " murmured Denver. 

That sunburned, nonchalant youth laughed musically. "Sure thing. I'dhate to be left out. The only difference is--"

"Well?"

His roving eye circled blandly round. "I stand about one show in amillion. Y'u roughnecks are dead ones already. "

With which cold comfort he sauntered away to join Miss Messiter andthe foreman, who now appeared together at the door of the ranchhouse, prepared to make a tour of the buildings and the immediate corrals. 

"Isn't there a woman on the place?" she was asking Morgan. 

"No'm, there ain't. Henderson's daughter would come and stay with y'u awhile I reckon. "

"Please send for her at once, then, and ask her to come to-day. "

"All right. I'll send one of the boys right away. "

"How did y'u leave 'Frisco, ma'am?" asked Mac, by way of includinghimself easily. 

"He's resting quietly. Unless blood-poisoning sets in they ought all todo well. "

"It's right lucky for them y'u happened along. This is the hawss corral, ma'am, " explained the young man just as Morgan opened his thin lips totell her. 

Judd contrived to get rid of him promptly. "Slap on a saddle, Mac, andrun up the remuda so Miss Messiter can see the hawsses for herself, " heordered. 

"Mebbe she'd rather ride down and look at the bunch, " suggested thecapable McWilliams. 

As it chanced, she did prefer to ride down the pasture and look overthe place from on horseback. She was in love with her ranch already. Its spacious distances, the thousands of cattle and the horses, thesepicturesque retainers who served her even to the shedding of an enemy'sblood; they all struck an answering echo in her gallant young heartthat nothing in Kalamazoo had been able to stir. She bubbled over withenthusiasm, the while Morgan covertly sneered and McWilliams warmed tothe untamed youth in her. 

"What about this man Bannister?" she flung out suddenly, after they hadcantered back to the house when the remuda had been inspected. 

Her abrupt question brought again the short, tense silence she hadbecome used to expect. 

"He runs sheep about twenty or thirty miles southwest of here, "explained McWilliams, in a carefully casual tone. 

"So everybody tells me, but it seems to me he spills a good deal of leadon my men, " she answered impatiently. "What's the trouble?"

"Last week he crossed the dead-line with a bunch of five thousandsheep. "

"Who draws this dead-line?"

"The cattlemen got together and drew it. Your uncle was one of thosethat marked it off, ma'am. "

"And Bannister crossed it?"

"Yes, ma'am. Yesterday 'Frisco come on him and one of his herders witha big bunch of them less than fifteen miles from here. He didn't know itwas Bannister, and took a pot-shot at him. 'Course Bannister came backat him, and he got Frisco in the laig. "

"Didn't know it was Bannister? What difference WOULD that make?" shesaid impatiently. 

Mac laughed. "What difference would it make, Judd?"

Morgan scowled, and the young man answered his own question. "We don'tany of us go out of our way more'n a mile to cross Bannister's trail, "he drawled. 

"Do you wear this for an ornament? Are you upholstered with hardware tocatch the eyes of some girl?" she asked, touching with the end of herwhip the revolver in the holster strapped to his chaps. 

His serene, gay smile flashed at her. "Are y'u ordering me to go out andget Ned Bannister's scalp?"

"No, I am not, " she explained promptly. "What I am trying to discover iswhy you all seem to be afraid of one man. He is only a man, isn't he?"

A veil of ice seemed to fall over the boyish face and leave it chiseledmarble. His unspeaking eyes rested on the swarthy foreman as heanswered:

"I don't know what he is, ma'am. He may be one man, or he may be ahundred. What's more, I ain't particularly suffering to find out. Factis, I haven't lost any Bannisters. "

The girl became aware that her foreman was looking at her with a warysilent vigilance sinister in its intensity. 

"In short, you're like the rest of the people in this section. You'reafraid. "

"Now y'u're shoutin', Miss Messiter. I sure am when it comes to shootin'off my mouth about Bannister. "

"And you, Mr. Morgan?"

It struck her that the young puncher waited with a curious interest forthe answer of the foreman. 

"Did it look like I was afraid this mawnin', ma'am?" he asked, withnarrowed eyes. 

"No, you all seemed brave enough then, when you had him eight to one. "

"I wasn't there, " hastily put in McWilliams. "I don't go gunning for myman without giving him a show. "

"I do, " retorted Morgan cruelly. "I'd go if we was fifty to one. We'd'a' got him, too, if it hadn't been for Miss Messiter. 'Twas a chance weain't likely to get again for a year. "

"It wasn't your fault you didn't kill him, Mr. Morgan, " she said, looking hard at him. "You may be interested to know that your last shotmissed him only about six inches, and me about four. "

"I didn't know who you were, " he sullenly defended. 

"I see. You only shoot at women when you don't know who they are. " Sheturned her back on him pointedly and addressed herself to McWilliams. "You can tell the men working on this ranch that I won't have any moresuch attacks on this man Bannister. I don't care what or who he is. Idon't propose to have him murdered by my employees. Let the law take himand hang him. Do you hear?"

"I ce'tainly do, and the boys will get the word straight, " he replied. 

"I take it since yuh are giving your orders through Mac, yuh don't needme any longer for your foreman, " bullied Morgan. 

"You take it right, sir, " came her crisp reply. "McWilliams will be myforeman from to-day. "

The man's face, malignant and wolfish, suddenly lost its mask. That shewould so promptly call his bluff was the last thing he had expected. "That's all right. I reckon yuh think yuh know your own business, butI'll put it to yuh straight. Long as yuh live you'll be sorry for this. "

And with that he wheeled away. 

She turned to her new foreman and found him less radiant than she couldhave desired. "I'm right sorry y'u did that. I'm afraid y'u'll maketrouble for yourself, " he said quietly. 

"Why?"

"I don't know myself just why. " He hesitated before adding: "They sayhim and Bannister is thicker than they'd ought to be. It's a cinch thathe's in cahoots somehow with that Shoshone bunch of bad men. "

"But--why, that's ridiculous. Only this morning he was trying to killBannister himself. "

"That's what I don't just savvy. There's a whole lot about that businessI don't get next to. I guess Bannister is at the head of them. Everybody seems agreed about that. But the whole thing is a tangle ofcontradiction to me. I've milled it over a heap in my mind, too. "

"What are some of the contradictions?"

"Well, here's one right off the bat, as we used to say back in theStates. Bannister is a great musician, they claim; fine singer, andall that. Now I happen to know he can't sing any more than a bellowingyearling. "

"How do you know?" she asked, her eyes shining with interest. 

"Because I heard him try it. 'Twas one day last summer when I was outcutting trail of a bunch of strays down by Dead Cow Creek. The day washot, and I lay down behind a cottonwood and dropped off to sleep. WhenI awakened it didn't take me longer'n an hour to discover what had wokeme. Somebody on the other side of the creek was trying to sing. It wasce'tainly the limit. Pretty soon he come out of the brush and I seen itwas Bannister. "

"You're sure it was Bannister?"

"If seeing is believing, I'm sure. "

"And was his singing really so bad?"

"I'd hate ever to hear worse. "

"Was he singing when you saw him?"

"No, he'd just quit. He caught sight of my pony grazing, and huntedcover real prompt. "

"Then it might have been another man singing in the thicket. "

"It might, but it wasn't. Y'u see, I'd followed him through the bush byhis song, and he showed up the moment I expected him. "

"Still there might have been another man there singing. "

"One chance in a million, " he conceded. 

A sudden hope flamed up like tow in her heart. Perhaps, after all, NedBannister was not the leader of the outlaws. Perhaps somebody else wasmasquerading in his name, using Bannister's unpopularity as a shield tocover his iniquities. Still, this was an unlikely hypothesis, she had toadmit. For why should he allow his good name to be dragged in the dustwithout any effort to save it? On a sudden impulse the girl confided herdoubt to McWilliams. 

"You don't suppose there can be any mistake, do you? Somehow I can'tthink him as bad as they say. He looks awfully reckless, but one feelsone could trust his face. "

"Same here, " agreed the new foreman. "First off when I saw him my thinkwas, 'I'd like to have that man backing my play when I'm sitting in thegame with Old Man Hard Luck reaching out for my blue chips. '"

"You don't think faces lie, do you?"

"I've seen them that did, but, gen'rally speaking, tongues are a heaplikelier to get tangled with the truth. But I reckon there ain't anydoubt about Bannister. He's known over all this Western country. "

The young woman sighed. "I'm afraid you're right. "

CHAPTER 5. THE DANCE AT FRASER'S

"Heard tell yet of the dance over to Fraser's?"

He was a young man of a brick red countenance and he wore loosely roundhis neck the best polka dot silk handkerchief that could be bought inGimlet Butte, also such gala attire as was usually reserved only forevents of importance. Sitting his horse carelessly in the plainsman'sindolent fashion, he asked his question of McWilliams in front of theLazy D bunkhouse. 

"Nope. When does the shindig come off?"

"Friday night. Big thing. Y'u want to be there. All y'u lads. "

"Mebbe some of us will ride over. "

He of the polka dot kerchief did not appear quite satisfied. His glancewandered toward the house, as it had been doing occasionally since themoment of his arrival. 

"Y'u bet this dance is ace high, Mac. Fancy costumes and masks. Y'u canrent the costumes over to Slauson's for three per. Texas, he's going tocall the dances. Music from Gimlet Butte. Y'u want to get it tucked awayin your thinker that this dance ain't on the order of culls. No, sirree, it's cornfed. "

"Glad to hear of it. I'll cipher out somehow to be there, Slim. "

Slim's glance took in the ranchhouse again. He had ridden twenty-threemiles out of his way to catch a glimpse of the newly arrived mistress ofthe Lazy D, the report of whose good looks and adventures had traveledhand in hand through many canons even to the heart of the Tetons. It hadbeen on Skunk Creek that he had heard of her three days before, and nowhe had come to verify the tongue of rumor, to see her quite casually, ofcourse, and do his own appraising. It began to look as if he were goingto have to ride off without a glimpse of her. 

He nodded toward the house, turning a shade more purple than his nativecholeric hue. "Y'u want to bring your boss with y'u, Mac. We beenhearing a right smart lot about her and the boys would admire tohave her present. It's going to be strictly according to Hoyle--norough-house plays go, y'understand. "

"I'll speak to her about it. " Mac's deep amusement did not reach thesurface. He was quite well aware that Slim was playing for time and thathe was too bashful to plump out the desire that was in him. "Great theway cows are jumpin', ain't it?"

"Sure. Well, I'll be movin' along to Slauson's. I just drapped in on myway. Thought mebbe y'u hadn't heard tell of the dance. "

"Much obliged. Was it for old man Slauson y'u dug up all them togs, Slim? He'll ce'tainly admire to see y'u in that silk tablecloth y'u gotround your neck. "

Slim's purple deepened again. "Y'u go to grass, Mac. I don't aim to asky'u to be my valley yet awhile. "

"C'rect. I was just wondering do all the Triangle Bar boys ride therange so handsome?"

"Don't y'u worry about the Triangle Bar boys, " advised the embarrassedSlim, gathering up his bridle reins. 

With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he rodeaway. When he reached the corral he looked back again. His gaze showedhim the boyish foreman doubled up with laughter; also the sweep of awhite skirt descending from the piazza. 

"Now, ain't that hoodooed luck?" the aggrieved rider of the Triangle Baroutfit demanded of himself, "I made my getaway about three shakes toosoon, by gum!"

Her foreman was in the throes of mirth when Helen Messiter reached him. 

"Include me in the joke, " she suggested. 

"Oh, I was just thinkin', " he explained inadequately. 

"Does it always take you that way?"

"About these boys that drop in so frequent on business these days. Funnyhow fond they're getting of the Lazy D. There was that stock detectivehappened in yesterday to show how anxious he was about your cows. Thenthe two Willow Creek riders that wanted a job punching for y'u, not tomention mention the Shoshone miner and the storekeeper from Gimlet Butteand Soapy Sothern and--"

"Still I don't quite see the joke. "

"It ain't any joke with them. Serious business, ma'am. "

"What happened to start you on this line?"

"The lad riding down the road on that piebald pinto. He come twentymiles out of his way, plumb dressed for a wedding, all to give me aninvite to a dance at Fraser's. Y'u would call that real thoughtful ofhim, I expect. "

She gayly sparkled. "A real ranch dance--the kind you have been tellingme about. Are Ida and I invited?"

"Invited? Slim hinted at a lynching if I came without y'u. "

She laughed softly, merry eyes flashing swiftly at him. "How gallant youWesterners are, even though you do turn it into burlesque. "

His young laugh echoed hers. "Burlesque nothing. My life wouldn't beworth a thing if I went alone. Honest, I wouldn't dare. "

"Since the ranch can't afford to lose its foreman Ida and I will goalong, " she promised. "That is, if it is considered proper here. "

"Proper. Good gracious, ma'am! Every lady for thirty miles round will bethere, from six months old to eighty odd years. It wouldn't be PROPER tostay at home. "

The foreman drove her to Fraser's in a surrey with Ida Henderson and oneof the Lazy D punchers on the back seat. The drive was over twenty-fivemiles, but in that silent starry night every mile was a delight. Part ofthe way led through a beautiful canon, along the rocky mountain road ofwhich the young man guided the rig with unerring skill. Beyond the gorgethe country debouched into a grassy park that fell away from their feetfor miles. It was in this basin that the Fraser ranch lay. 

The strains of the fiddle and the thumping of feet could be heard asthey drove up. Already the rooms seemed to be pretty well filled, asHelen noticed when they entered. Three sets were on the floor for aquadrille and the house shook with the energy of the dancers. On benchesagainst the walls were seated the spectators, and on one of them stoodTexas calling the dance. 

"Alemane left. Right hand t'yer pardner and grand right and left. Ev-v-rybody swing, " chanted the caller. 

A dozen rough young fellows were clustered near the front door, apparently afraid to venture farther lest their escape be cut off. Through these McWilliams pushed a way for his charges, the cowboysfalling back respectfully at once when they discovered the presence ofMiss Messiter. 

In the bedroom where she left her wraps the mistress of the Lazy D founda dozen or more infants and several of their mothers. In the kitchenwere still other women and babies, some of the former very old and ofthe latter very young. A few of the babies were asleep, but most of themwere still very much alive to this scene of unwonted hilarity in theiryoung lives. 

As soon as she emerged into the general publicity of the dancing roomher foreman pounced upon Helen and led her to a place in the head setthat was making up. The floor was rough, the music jerky and uncertain, the quadrilling an exhibition of joyous and awkward abandon; but itspicturesque lack of convention appealed to the girl from Michigan. Itrather startled her to be swung so vigorously, but a glance about theroom showed that these humorous-eyed Westerners were merely living up tothe duty of the hour as they understood it. 

At the close of the quadrille Helen found herself being introducedto "Mr. Robins, " alias Slim, who drew one of his feet back in anembarrassed bow. 

"I enjoy to meet y'u, ma'am, " he assured her, and supplemented this witha request for the next dance, after which he fell into silence that waspainful in its intensity. 

Nearly all the dances were squares, as few of those present understoodthe intricacies of the waltz and two-step. Hence it happened that theproficient McWilliams secured three round dances with his mistress. 

It was during the lunch of sandwiches, cake and coffee that Helenperceived an addition to the company. The affair had been advertiseda costume ball, but most of those present had construed this veryliberally. She herself, to be sure, had come as Mary Queen of Scots, Mac was arrayed in the scarlet tunic and tight-fitting breeches of theNorthwest Mounted Police, and perhaps eight or ten others had madesome attempt at representing some one other than they were. She now sawanother, apparently a new arrival, standing in the doorway negligently. A glance told her that he was made up for a road agent and that hisrevolvers and mask were a part of the necessary costuming. 

Slowly his gaze circled the room and came round to her. His eyes werehard as diamonds and as flashing, so that the impact of their meetinglooks seemed to shock her physically. He was a tall man, swarthy ofhue, and he carried himself with a light ease that looked silken strong. Something in the bearing was familiar yet not quite familiar either. Itseemed to suggest a resemblance to somebody she knew. And in the nextthought she knew that the somebody was Ned Bannister. 

The man spoke to Fraser, just then passing with a cup of coffee, andHelen saw the two men approach. The stranger was coming to be formallyintroduced. 

"Shake hands with Mr. Holloway, Miss Messiter. He's from up in the hillcountry and he rode to our frolic. Y'u've got three guesses to figureout what he's made up as. "

"One will be quite enough, I think, " she answered coldly. 

Fraser departed on his destination with the coffee and the newcomer satdown on the bench beside her. 

"One's enough, is it?" he drawled smilingly. 

"Quite, but I'm surprised so few came in costume. Why didn't you? But Isuppose you had your reasons. "

"Didn't I? I'm supposed to be a bad man from the hills. "

She swept him casually with an indifferent glance. "And isn't that whatyou are in real life?"

His sharp scrutiny chiseled into her. "What's that?"

"You won't mind if I forget and call you Mr. Bannister instead of Mr. Holloway?"

She thought his counterfeit astonishment perfect. 

"So I'm Ned Bannister, am I?"

Their eyes clashed. 

"Aren't you?"

She felt sure of it, and yet there was a lurking doubt. For there wasin his manner something indescribably more sinister than she had feltin him on that occasion when she had saved his life. Then a debonairrecklessness had been the outstanding note, but now there was somethingribald and wicked in him. 

"Since y'u put it as a question, common politeness demands an answer. Ned Bannister is my name. "

"You are the terror of this country?"

"I shan't be a terror to y'u, ma'am, if I can help it, " he smiled. 

"But you are the man they call the king?"

"I have that honor. "

"HONOR?"

At the sharp scorn of her accent he laughed. 

"Do you mean that you are proud of your villainy?" she demanded. 

"Y'u've ce'tainly got the teacher habit of asking questions, " he repliedwith a laugh that was a sneer. 

A shadow fell across them and a voice said quietly, "She didn't wait toask any when she saved your life down in the coulee back of the Lazy D. "

The shadow was Jim McWilliams's, and its owner looked down at the manbeside the girl with steady, hostile eyes. 

"Is this your put in, sir?" the other flashed back. 

"Yes, seh, it is. The boys don't quite like seeing your hardware soprominent at a social gathering. In this community guns don't come intothe house at a ranch dance. I'm a committee to mention the subject andto collect your thirty-eights if y'u agree with us. "

"And if I don't agree with you?"

"There's all outdoors ready to receive y'u, seh. It would be a pity tostay in the one spot where your welcome's wore thin. "

"Still I may choose to stay. "

"Ce'tainly, but if y'u decide that way y'u better step out on the porchand talk it over with us where there ain't ladies present. "

"Isn't this a costume dance? What's the matter with my guns? I'm anoutlaw, ain't I?"

"I don't know whether y'u are or not, seh. If y'u say y'u are we'reready to take your word. The guns have to be shucked if y'u stay here. They might go off accidental and scare the ladies. "

The man rose blackly. "I'll remember this. If y'u knew who y'u weregetting so gay with--"

"I can guess, Mr. Holloway, the kind of an outfit y'u freight with, andI expect I could put a handle to another name for you. "

"By God, if y'u dare to say--"

"I don't dare, especially among so many ladies, " came McWilliams'sjaunty answer. 

The eyes of the two men gripped, after which Holloway swung on his heeland swaggered defiantly out of the house. 

Presently there came the sound of a pony's feet galloping down theroad. It had not yet died away when Texas announced that the supperintermission was over. 

"Pardners for a quadrille. Ladies' choice. "

The dance was on again full swing. The fiddlers were tuning up andcouples gathering for a quadrille. Denver came to claim Miss Messiterfor a partner. Apparently even the existence of the vanished Hollowaywas forgotten. But Helen remembered it, and pondered over the affairlong after daylight had come and brought with it an end to thefestivities. 

CHAPTER 6. A PARTY CALL

The mistress of the Lazy D, just through with her morning visit to thehospital in the bunkhouse, stopped to read the gaudy poster tacked tothe wall. It was embellished with the drawing of a placid rider astridethe embodiment of fury incarnate, under which was the legend: "Stick toYour Saddle. "

BIG FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION AT GIMLET BUTTE. ROPING AND BRONCOBUSTING CONTESTS FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD AND BIG PRIZES, Including $1, 000 for the Best Rider and the Same for Best Roper. CowPony Races, Ladies' Races and Ladies' Riding Contest, Fireworks, ANDFREE BARBECUE!!!! EVERYBODY COME AND TURN YOUR WOLF LOOSE. 

A sudden thud of pounding hoofs, a snatch of ragtime, and her foremanswept up in a cloud of white dust. His pony came from a gallop to aninstant halt, and simultaneously Mac landed beside her, one hand holdingthe wide-brimmed hat he had snatched off in his descent, the otherhitched by a casual thumb to the belt of his chaps. 

She laughed. "You really did it very well. "

Mac blushed. He was still young enough to take pride in his picturesqueregalia, to prefer the dramatic way of doing a commonplace thing. But, though he liked this girl's trick of laughing at him with a perfectlygrave face out of those dark, long-lashed eyes, he would have likedit better if sometimes they had given back the applause he thought hislittle tricks merited. 

"Sho! That's foolishness, " he deprecated. 

"I suppose they got you to sit for this picture;" and she indicated theposter with a wave of her hand. 

"That ain't a real picture, " he explained, and when she smiled added, "as of course y'u know. No hawss ever pitched that way--and the saddleain't right. Fact is, it's all wrong. "

"How did it come here? It wasn't here last night. "

"I reckon Denver brought it from Slauson's. He was ridin' that countryyesterday, and as the boys was out of smokin' he come home that way. "

"I suppose you'll all go?"

"I reckon. "

"And you'll ride?"

"I aim to sit in. "

"At the roping, too?"

"No, m'm. I ain't so much with the rope. It takes a Mexican to snake arope. "

"Then I'll be able to borrow only a thousand dollars from you to helpbuy that bunch of young cows we were speaking about, " she mocked. 

"Only a thousand, " he grinned. "And it ain't a cinch I'll win. There arethree or four straightup riders on this range. A fellow come from theHole-in-the-Wall and won out last year. "

"And where were you?"

"Oh, I took second prize, " he explained, with obvious indifference. 

"Well, you had better get first this year. We'll have to show them theLazy D hasn't gone to sleep. "

"Sure thing, " he agreed. 

"Has that buyer from Cheyenne turned up yet?" she asked, reverting tobusiness. 

"Not yet. Do y'u want I should make the cut soon as he comes?"

"Don't you think his price is a little low--twenty dollars from brandup?"

"It's a scrub bunch. We want to get rid of them, anyway. But you're thedoctor, " he concluded slangily. 

She thought a moment. "We'll let him have them, but don't make the cuttill I come back. I'm going to ride over to the Twin Buttes. "

His admiring eyes followed her as she went toward the pony that waswaiting saddled with the rein thrown to the ground. She carried herslim, lithe figure with a grace, a lightness, that few women could haverivaled. When she had swung to the saddle, she half-turned in her seatto call an order to the foreman. 

"I think, Mac, you had better run up those horses from Eagle Creek. HaveDenver and Missou look after them. "

"Sure, ma'am, " he said aloud; and to himself: "She's ce'tainly athoroughbred. Does everything well she tackles. I never saw anythinglike it. I'm a Chink if she doesn't run this ranch like she had beenat it forty years. Same thing with her gasoline bronc. That pinto, too. He's got a bad eye for fair, but she makes him eat out of her hand. Ireckon the pinto is like the rest of us--clean mashed. " He put his armson the corral fence and grew introspective. "Blamed if I know what it isabout her. 'Course she's a winner on looks, but that ain't it alone. Iguess it's on account of her being such a game little gentleman. Whenshe turns that smile loose on a fellow--well, there's sure sunshine inthe air. And game--why, Ned Bannister ain't gamer himself. "

McWilliams had climbed lazily to the top board of the fence. He was anenergetic youth, but he liked to do his thinking at his ease. Now, ashis gaze still followed its lodestar, he suddenly slipped from his seatand ran forward, pulling the revolver from its scabbard as he ran. Intohis eyes had crept a tense alertness, the shining watchfulness of thetiger ready for its spring. 

The cause of the change in the foreman of the Lazy D was a simple one, and on its face innocent enough. It was merely that a stranger had swungin casually at the gate of the short stable lane, and was due tomeet Miss Messiter in about ten seconds. So far good enough. A dozentravelers dropped in every day, but this particular one happened to beNed Bannister. 

From the stable door a shot rang out. Bannister ducked and shoutedgenially: "Try again. "

But Helen Messiter whirled her pony as on a half-dollar, and chargeddown on the stable. 

"Who fired that shot?" she demanded, her eyes blazing. 

The horse-wrangler showed embarrassment. He had found time only to leanthe rifle against the wall. 

"I reckon I did, ma'am. Y'u see--"

"Did you get my orders about this feud?" she interrupted crisply. 

"Yes, ma'am, but--"

"Then you may call for your time. When I give my men orders I expectthem to obey. "

"I wouldn't 'a' shot if I'd knowed y'u was so near him. Y'u was behindthat summer kitchen, " he explained lamely. 

"You only expect to obey orders when I'm in sight. Is that it?" sheasked hotly, and without waiting for an answer delivered her ultimatum. "Well, I won't have it. I run this ranch as long as I am its owner. Doyou understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. I hadn't ought to have did it, but when I seen Bannister itcome over me I owed him a pill for the one he sent me last week down inthe coulee. So I up and grabbed the rifle and let him have it. "

"Then you may up and grab your trunk for Medicine Hill. Shorty willdrive you tomorrow. "

When she returned to her unexpected guest, Helen found him inconversation with McWilliams. The latter's gun had found again itsholster, but his brown, graceful hand hovered close to its butt. 

"Seems like a long time since the Lazy D has been honored by a visitfrom Mr. Bannister, " he was saying, with gentle irony. 

"That's right. So I have come to make up for lost time, " cameBannister's quiet retort. 

Miss Messiter did not know much about Wyoming human nature in the raw, but she had learned enough to be sure that the soft courtesy of thesetwo youths covered a stark courage that might leap to life any moment. Wherefore she interposed. 

"We'll be pleased to show you over the place, Mr. Bannister. As ithappens, we are close to the hospital. Shall we begin there?"

Her cool, silken defiance earned a smile from the visitor. "All yourcases doing well, ma'am?"

"It's very kind of you to ask. I suppose you take an interest becausethey are YOUR cases, too, in a way of speaking?"

"Mine? Indeed!"

"Yes. If it were not for you I'm afraid our hospital would be empty. "

"It must be right pleasant to be nursed by Miss Messiter. I reckon theboys are grateful to me for scattering my lead so promiscuous. "

"I heard one say he would like to lam your haid tenderly, " murmuredMcWilliams. 

"With a two-by-four, I suppose, " laughed Bannister. 

"Shouldn't wonder. But, looking y'u over casual, it occurs to mehe might get sick of his job befo' he turned y'u loose, " McWilliamsadmitted, with a glance of admiration at the clean power showing in theother's supple lines. 

Nor could either the foreman or his mistress deny the tribute of theirrespect to the bravado of this scamp who sat so jauntily his seatregardless of what the next moment might bring forth. Three wounded menwere about the place, all presumably quite willing to get a cleanshot at him in the open. One of them had taken his chance already, andmissed. Their visitor had no warrant for knowing that a second might notany instant try his luck with better success. Yet he looked every inchthe man on horseback, no whit disturbed, not the least conscious ofany danger. Tall, spare, broad shouldered, this berry-brown young man, crowned with close-cropped curls, sat at the gates of the enemy verymuch at his insolent case. 

"I came over to pay my party call, " he explained. 

"It really wasn't necessary. A run in the machine is not a formalfunction. "

"Maybe not in Kalamazoo. "

"I thought perhaps you had come to get my purse and the sixty-threedollars, " she derided. 

"No, ma'am; nor yet to get that bunch of cows I was going to rustle fromyou to buy an auto. I came to ask you to go riding with me. "

The audacity of it took her breath. Of all the outrageous things she hadever heard, this was the cream. An acknowledged outlaw, engaged in feudwith her retainers over that deadly question of the run of the range, he had sauntered over to the ranch where lived a dozen of his enemies, three of them still scarred with his bullets, merely to ask her to goriding with him. The magnificence of his bravado almost obliterated itsimpudence. Of course she would not think of going. The idea! But hereyes glowed with appreciation of his courage, not the less because theconsciousness of it was so conspicuously absent from his manner. 

"I think not, Mr. Bannister" and her face almost imperceptiblystiffened. "I don't go riding with strangers, nor with men who shootmy boys. And I'll give you a piece of advice, sir. That is, to burnthe wind back to your home. Otherwise I won't answer for your life. Mypunchers don't love you, and I don't know how long I can keep them fromyou. You're not wanted here any more than you were at the dance theother evening. "

McWilliams nodded. "That's right. Y'u better roll your trail, seh; andif y'u take my advice, you'll throw gravel lively. I seen two of theboys cutting acrost that pasture five minutes ago. They looked as ifthey might be haided to cut y'u off, and I allow it may be their nightto howl. Miss Messiter don't want to be responsible for y'u getting leadpoisoning. "

"Indeed!" Their visitor looked politely interested. "This solicitude forme is very touching. I observe that both of you are carefully blockingme from the bunkhouse in order to prevent another practice-shot. If Ican't persuade you to join me in a ride, Miss Messiter, I reckon I'llgo while I'm still unpunctured. " He bowed, and gathered the reins fordeparture. 

"One moment! Mr. McWilliams and I are going with you, " the girlannounced. 

"Changed your mind? Think you'll take a little pasear, after all?"

"I don't want to be responsible for your killing. We'll see you safe offthe place, " she answered curtly. 

The foreman fell in on one side of Bannister, his mistress on the other. They rode in close formation, to lessen the chance of an ambuscade. Bannister alone chatted at his debonair ease, ignoring theresponsibility they felt for his safety. 

"I got my ride, after all, " he presently chuckled. "To be sure, I wasn'texpecting Mr. McWilliams to chaperon us. But that's an added pleasure. "

"Would it be an added pleasure to get bumped off to kingdom come?"drawled the foreman, giving a reluctant admiration to his aplomb. 

"Thinking of those willing boys of yours again, are you?" laughedBannister. "They're ce'tainly a heap prevalent with their hardware, buttheir hunting don't seem to bring home any meat. "

"By the way, how IS your ankle, Mr. Bannister? I forgot to ask. " Thisshot from the young woman. 

He enjoyed it with internal mirth. "They did happen on the target thattime, " he admitted. "Oh, it's getting along fine, but I aim to do mostof my walking on horseback for a while. "

They swept past the first dangerous grove of cottonwoods in safety, androunded the boundary fence corner. 

"They're in that bunch of pines over there, " said the foreman, after asingle sweep of his eyes in that direction. 

"Yes, I see they are. You oughtn't to let your boys wear red bandannaswhen they go gunning, Miss Messiter. It's an awful careless habit. "

Helen herself could see no sign of life in the group of pines, but sheknew their keen, trained eyes had found what hers could not. Riding withone or another of her cowboys, she had often noticed how infallibly theycould read the country for miles around. A scattered patch on a distanthillside, though it might be a half-hour's ride from them, told them agreat deal more than seemed possible. To her the dark spots sifted onthat slope meant scrub underbrush, if there was any meaning at all inthem. But her riders could tell not only whether they were alive, butcould differentiate between sheep and cattle. Indeed, McWilliams couldnearly always tell whether they were HER cattle or not. He was unable toexplain to her how he did it. By a sort of instinct, she supposed. 

The pines were negotiated in safety, and on the part of the men with acarelessness she could not understand. For after they had passedthere was a spot between her shoulder-blades that seemed to tingle inexpectation of a possible bullet boring its way through. But she wouldhave died rather than let them know how she felt. 

Perhaps Bannister understood, however, for he remarked casually: "Iwouldn't be ambling past so leisurely if I was riding alone. It makesa heap of difference who your company is, too. Those punchers wouldn'ttake a chance at me now for a million dollars. "

"No, they're some haidstrong, but they ain't plumb locoed, " agreed Mac. 

Fifteen minutes later Helen drew up at the line corner. "We'll partcompany here, Mr. Bannister. I don't think there is any more danger frommy men. "

"Before we part there is something I want to say. I hold that a man hasas much right to run sheep on these hills as cows. It's government land, and neither one of us owns it. It's bound to be a case of the survivalof the fittest. If sheep are hardier and more adapted to the country, then cows have got to vamos. That's nature, as it looks to me. Thebuffalo and the antelope have gone, and I guess cows have got to taketheir turn. "

Her scornful eyes burned him. "You came to tell me that, did you? Well, I don't believe a word of it. I'll not yield my rights without a fight. You may depend on that. "

"Here, too, " nodded her foreman. "I'm with my boss clear down the line. And as soon as she lets me turn loose my six-gun, you'll hear it pop, seh. "

"I have not a doubt of it, Mr. McWilliams, " returned the sheepmanblithely. "In the meantime I was going to say that though most of myinterests are in sheep instead of cattle--"

"I thought most of your interests were in other people's property, "interrupted the young woman. 

"It goes into sheep ultimately, " he smiled. "Now, what I am trying toget at is this: I'm in debt to you a heap, Miss Messiter, and since I'mnot all yellow cur, I intend to play fair with you. I have ordered mysheep back across the deadline. You can have this range to yourself foryour cattle. The fight's off so far as we personally are concerned. "

A hint of deeper color touched her cheeks. Her manner had been cavalierat best; for the most part frankly hostile; and all the time the man wason an errand of good-will. Certainly he had scored at her expense, andshe was ashamed of herself. 

"Y'u mean that you're going to respect the deadline? asked Mac insurprise. 

"I didn't say quite that, " explained the sheepman. "What I said wasthat I meant to keep on my side of it so far as the Lazy D cattle areconcerned. I'll let your range alone. "

"But y'u mean to cross it down below where the Bar Double-E cows run?"

Bannister's gay smile touched the sardonic face. "Do you invite thepublic to examine your hand when you sit into a game of poker, Mr. McWilliams?"

"You're dead right. It's none of my business what y'u do so long asy'u keep off our range, " admitted the foreman. "And next time theconversation happens on Mr. Bannister, I'll put in my little say-so thathe ain't all black. "

"That's very good of you, sir, " was the other's ironical retort. 

The girl's gauntleted hand offered itself impulsively. "We can't befriends under existing circumstances, Mr. Bannister. But that does notalter the fact that I owe you an apology. You came as a peace envoy, andone of my men shot at you. Of course, he did not understand the reasonwhy you came, but that does not matter. I did not know your reasonmyself, and I know I have been very inhospitable. "

"Are you shaking hands with Ned Bannister the sheepman or Ned Bannisterthe outlaw?" asked the owner of that name, with a queer little smilethat seemed to mock himself. 

"With Ned Bannister the gentleman. If there is another side to him Idon't know it personally. "

He flushed underneath the tan, but very plainly with pleasure. "Youropinions are right contrary to Hoyle, ma'am. Aren't you aware that asheepman is the lowest thing that walks? Ask Mr. McWilliams. "

"I have known stockmen of that opinion, but--"

The foreman's sentence was never finished. From a clump of bushesa hundred yards away came the crack of a rifle. A bullet sang past, cutting a line that left on one side of it Bannister, on the other MissMessiter and her foreman. Instantly the two men slid from their horseson the farther side, dragged down the young woman behind the coverof the broncos, and arranged the three ponies so as to give her thegreatest protection available. Somehow the weapons that garnished themhad leaped to their hands before their feet touched the ground. 

"That coyote isn't one of our men. I'll back that opinion high, " saidMcWilliams promptly. 

"Who is he?" the girl whispered. 

"That's what we're going to find out pretty soon, " returned Bannistergrimly. "Chances are it's me he is trying to gather. Now, I'm going tomake a break for that cottonwood. When I go, you better run up a whitehandkerchief and move back from the firing-line. Turn Buck loose whenyou leave. He'll stay around and come when I whistle. "

He made a run for it, zigzagging through the sage-brush so swiftly as tooffer the least certain mark possible for a sharpshooter. Yet twice therifle spoke before he reached the cottonwood. 

Meanwhile Mac had fastened the handkerchief of his mistress on the endof a switch he had picked up and was edging out of range. His tense, narrowed gaze never left the bush-clump from which the shots were beingpumped, and he was careful during their retreat to remain on the dangerside of the road, in order to cover Helen. 

"I guess Bannister's right. He don't want us, whoever he is. "

And even as he murmured it, the wind of a bullet lifted his hat fromhis head. He picked it up and examined it. The course of the bullet wasmarked by a hole in the wide brim, and two more in the side and crown. 

"He ce'tainly ventilated it proper. I reckon, ma'am, we'll make a runfor it. Lie low on the pinto's neck, with your haid on the off side. That's right. Let him out. "

A mile and a half farther up the road Mac reined in, and made theIndian peace-sign. Two dejected figures came over the hill and resolvedthemselves into punchers of the Lazy D. Each of them trailed a rifle byhis side. 

"You're a fine pair of ring-tailed snorters, ain't y'u?" jeered theforeman. "Got to get gay and go projectin' round on the shoot after y'ugot your orders to stay hitched. Anything to say for yo'selves?"

If they had it was said very silently. 

"Now, Miss Messiter is going to pass it up this time, but from now ony'u don't go off on any private massacrees while y'u punch at the LazyD. Git that? This hyer is the last call for supper in the dining-cah. Ify'u miss it, y'u'll feed at some other chuckhouse. " Suddenly the drawlof his sarcasm vanished. His voice carried the ring of peremptorycommand. "Jim, y'u go back to the ranch with Miss Messiter, AND KEEPYOUR EYES OPEN. Missou, I need y'u. We're going back. I reckon y'ubetter hang on to the stirrup, for we got to travel some. Adios, senorita!"

He was off at a slow lope on the road he had just come, the other manrunning beside the horse. Presently he stopped, as if the arrangementwere not satisfactory; and the second man swung behind him on the pony. Later, when she turned in her saddle, she saw that they had left theroad and were cutting across the plain, as if to take the sharpshooterin the rear. 

Her troubled thoughts stayed with her even after she had reached theranch. She was nervously excited, keyed up to a high pitch; for she knewthat out on the desert, within a mile or two of her, men were stalkingeach other with life or death in the balance as the price of vigilance, skill and an unflawed steel nerve. While she herself had been in danger, she had been mistress of her fear. But now she could do nothing butwait, after ordering out such reinforcements as she could recruitwithout delay; and the inaction told upon her swift, impulsivetemperament. Once, twice, the wind brought to her a faint sound. 

She had been pacing the porch, but she stopped, white as a sheet. Behindthose faint explosions might lie a sinister tragedy. Her mind projecteditself into a score of imaginary possibilities. She listened, breathlessin her tensity, but no further echo of that battlefield reached her. Thesun still shone warmly on brown Wyoming. She looked down into a rollingplain that blurred in the distance from knobs and flat spaces into asingle stretch that included a thousand rises and depressions. That rollof country teemed with life, but the steady, inexorable sun beat downon what seemed a shining, primeval waste of space. Yet somewhere inthat space the tragedy was being determined--unless it had been alreadyenacted. 

She wanted to scream. The very stillness mocked her. So, too, did theclicking windmill, with its monotonous regularity. Her pony still stoodsaddled in the yard. She knew that her place was at home, and she foughtdown a dozen times the tremendous impulse to mount and fly to the fieldof combat. 

She looked at her watch. How slowly the minutes dragged! It could notbe only five minutes since she had looked last time. Again she fell topacing the long west porch, and interrupted herself a dozen times tostop and listen. 

"I can bear it no longer, " she told herself at last, and in anothermoment was in the saddle plying her pinto with the quirt. 

But before she reached the first cottonwoods she saw them coming. Herglasses swept the distant group, and with a shiver she made out thedreadful truth. They were coming slowly, carrying something betweenthem. The girl did not need to be told that the object they werebringing home was their dead or wounded. 

A figure on horseback detached itself from the huddle of men andgalloped towards her. He was coming to break the news. But who was thevictim? Bannister or McWilliams she felt sure, by reason of the sinkingheart in her; and then it came home that she would be hard hit if itwere either. 

The approaching rider began to take distinct form through her glasses. As he pounded forward she recognized him. It was the man nicknamedDenver. The wind was blowing strongly from her to him, and while he wasstill a hundred yards away she hurled her question. 

His answer was lost in the wind sweep, but one word of it she caught. That word was "Mac. "

CHAPTER 7. THE MAN FROM THE SHOSHONE FASTNESSES

Though the sharpshooter's rifle cracked twice during his run for thecottonwood, the sheepman reached the tree in safety. He could dodgethrough the brush as elusively as any man in Wyoming. It was a trick hehad learned on the whitewashed football gridiron. For in his buried pastthis man had been the noted half-back of a famous college, and one ofhis specialties had been running the ball back after a catch through abroken field of opponents. The lesson that experience had then thumpedinto him had since saved his life on more than one occasion. 

Having reached the tree, Bannister took immediate advantage of the lieof the ground to snake forward unobserved for another hundred feet. There was a dip from the foot of the tree, down which he rolled into thesage below. He wormed his way through the thick scrub brush to the edgeof a dry creek, into the bed of which he slid. Then swiftly, his bodybent beneath the level of the bank, he ran forward in the sand. He movednoiselessly, eyes and ears alert to aid him, and climbed the bank at apoint where a live oak grew. 

Warily he peeped out from behind its trunk and swept the plain for hisfoe. Nothing was to be seen of him. Slowly and patiently his eyes againwent over the semi-circle before him, for where death may lurk behindevery foot of vegetation, every bump or hillock, the plainsman leavesas little as may be to chance. No faintest movement could escape thesheepman's eyes, no least stir fail to apprise his ears. Yet for manyminutes he waited in vain, and the delay told him that he had to do witha trained hunter rather than a mere reckless cow-puncher. For somewherein the rough country before him his enemy lay motionless, every facultyalive to the least hint of his presence. 

It was the whirring flight of a startled dove that told Bannister thewhereabouts of his foe. Two hundred yards from him the bird rose, and the direction it took showed that the man must have been trailingforward from the opposite quarter. The sheepman slipped back into thedry creek bed, retraced his steps for about a stone-throw, and againcrawled up the bank. 

For a long time he lay face down in the grass, his gaze riveted to thespot where he knew his opponent to be hidden. A faint rustle not bornof the wind stirred the sage. Still Bannister waited. A less experiencedplainsman would have blazed away and exposed his own position. But notthis young man with the steel-wire nerves. Silent as the coming ofdusk, no breaking twig or displaced brush betrayed his self-containedpresence. 

Something in the clump he watched wriggled forward and showedindistinctly through an opening in the underscrub. He whipped his rifleinto position and fired twice. The huddled brown mass lurched forwardand disappeared. 

"Wonder if I got him? Seems to me I couldn't have missed clean, " thoughtBannister. 

Silence as before, vast and unbroken. 

A scramble of running feet tearing a path through the brush, a crouchingbody showing darkly for an eyeflash, and then the pounding of a horse'sretreating feet. 

Bannister leaped up, ran lightly across the intervening space, and withhis repeater took a potshot at the galloping horseman. 

"Missed!" he muttered, and at once gave a sharp whistle that brought hispony to him on the trot. He vaulted to the saddle and gave chase. It wasrough going, but nothing in reason can stop a cow-pony. As sure footedas a mountain goat, as good a climber almost as a cat, Buck followed theflying horseman over perilous rock rims and across deep-cut creek beds. Pantherlike he climbed up the steep creek sides without hesitation, forthe round-up had taught him never to falter at stiff going so long ashis rider put him at it. 

It was while he was clambering out of the sheer sides of a wash thatBannister made a discovery. The man he pursued was wounded. Something inthe manner of the fellow's riding had suggested this to him, but a dropof blood splashed on a stone that happened to meet his eye made thesurmise a certainty. 

He was gaining now--not fast, almost imperceptibly, but none the lesssurely. He could see the man looking over his shoulder, once, twice, andthen again, with that hurried, fearful glance that measures the approachof retribution. Barring accidents, the man was his. 

But the unforeseen happened. Buck stepped in the hole of a prairiedog and went down. Over his head flew the rider like a stone from acatapult. 

How long Ned Bannister lay unconscious he never knew. But when he cameto himself it was none too soon. He sat up dizzily and passed his handover his head. Something had happened. 

What was it? Oh, yes, he had been thrown from his horse. A waveof recollection passed over him, and his mind was clear once more. Presently he got to his feet and moved rather uncertainly toward Buck, for the horse was grazing quietly a few yards from him. 

But half way to the pony he stopped. Voices, approaching by way of thebed of Dry Creek, drifted to him. 

"He must 'a' turned and gone back. Mebbe he guessed we was there. "

And a voice that Bannister knew, one that had a strangely penetrant, cruel ring of power through the drawl, made answer: "Judd said beforehe fainted he was sure the man was Ned Bannister. I'd ce'tainly like tomeet up with my beloved cousin right now and even up a few old scores. By God, I'd make him sick before I finished with him!"

"I'll bet y'u would, Cap, " returned the other, admiringly. "Think we'dbetter deploy here and beat up the scenery a few as we go?"

There are times when the mind works like lightning, flashes its messageson the wings of an electric current. For Bannister this was one of them. The whole situation lighted for him plainly as if it had been explainedfor an hour. 

His cousin had been out with a band of his cut-throats on some errand, and while returning to the fastnesses of the Shoshone Mountains hadstopped to noon at a cow spring three or four miles from the Lazy D. Judd Morgan, whom he knew to be a lieutenant of the notorious bandit, had ridden toward the ranch in the hope of getting an opportunity tovent his anger against its mistress or some of her men. While pursuingthe renegade Bannister had stumbled into a hornet's nest, and was inimminent danger of being stung to death. Even now the last speaker wasscrambling up the bank toward him. 

The sheepman had to choose between leaving his rifle and immediateflight. The latter was such a forlorn hope that he gave up Buck for themoment, and ran back to the place where his repeating Winchester hadfallen. Without stopping he scooped the rifle up as he passed. In hisday he had been a famous sprinter, and he scudded now for dear life. It was no longer a question of secrecy. The sound of men breaking theirhurried way through the heavy brush of the creek bank came crisply tohim. A voice behind shouted a warning, and from not a hundred yards infront of him came an answering shout. Hemmed in from the fore and therear, he swung off at a right angle. An open stretch lay before him, buthe had to take his desperate chance without cover. Anything was betterthan to be trapped like a wild beast driven by the beaters to the guns. 

Across the bare, brown mesa he plunged; and before he had taken a dozensteps the first rifle had located its prey and was sniping at him. He had perhaps a hundred yards to cover ere the mesa fell away into ahollow, where he might find temporary protection in the scrub pines. And now a second marksman joined himself to the first. But he was goingfast, already had covered half the distance, and it is no easy thing tobring down a live, dodging target. 

Again the first gun spoke, and scored another miss, whereat a mocking, devilish laugh rang out in the sunshine. 

"Y'u boys splash a heap of useless lead around the horizon. I reckonCousin Ned's my meat. Y'u see, I get him in the flapper without spoilinghim complete. " And at the word he flung the rifle to his shoulder andfired with no apparent aim. 

The running man doubled up like a cottontail, but found his feet againin an instant, though one arm hung limp by his side. He was within adozen feet of the hilldrop and momentary safety. 

"Shall I take him, Cap?" cried one of the men. 

"No; he's mine. " The rifle smoked once more and again the runner wentdown. But this time he plunged headlong down the slope and out of sight. 

The outlaw chief turned on his heel. "I reckon he'll not run any moreto-day. Bring him into camp and we'll take him along with us, " he saidcarelessly, and walked away to his horse in the creek bed. 

Two of the men started forward, but they stopped half way, as if rootedto the ground. For a galloping horseman suddenly drew up at the verypoint for which they were starting. He leaped to the ground and warnedthem back with his rifle. While he covered them a second man rode up andlifted Bannister to his saddle. 

"Ready, Mac, " he gave the word, and both horses disappeared withtheir riders over the brow of the hill. When the surprised desperadoesrecovered themselves and reached that point the rescuers had disappearedin the heavy brush. 

The alarm was at once given, and their captain, cursing them in araucous bellow for their blunder, ordered immediate pursuit. It was somelittle time before the trail of the fugitives was picked up, but oncediscovered they were over hauled rapidly. 

"We're not going to get out without swapping lead, " McWilliams admittedanxiously. "I wisht y'u wasn't hampered with that load, but I reckonI'll have to try to stand them off alone. "

"We bucked into a slice of luck when I opened on his bronc maverickingaround alone. Hadn't been for that we could never have made it, " saidMissou, who never crossed a bridge until he came to it. 

"We haven't made it yet, old hoss, not by a long mile, and two more ontop o' that. They're beginning to pump lead already. Huh! Got to drapyour pills closer'n that 'fore y'u worry me. "

"I believe he's daid, anyway, " said Missou presently, peering down intothe white face of the unconscious man. 

"Got to hang onto the remains, anyhow, for Miss Helen. Those coyotes aretoo much of the wolf breed to leave him with them. "

"Looks like they're gittin' the aim some better, " equably remarked theother a minute later, when a spurt of sand flew up in front of him. 

"They're ce'tainly crowding us. I expaict I better send them a'How-de-do?' so as to discourage them a few. " He took as careful aim ashe could on the galloping horse, but his bullet went wide. 

"They're gaining like sixty. It's my offhand opinion we better stop atthat bunch of trees and argue some with them. No use buck-jumpin' alongto burn the wind while they drill streaks of light through us. "

"All right. Take the trees. Y'u'll be able to get into the game somethen. "

They debouched from the road to the little grove and slipped from theirhorses. 

"Deader'n hell, " murmured Missou, as he lifted the limp body from hishorse. "But I guess we'll pack what's left back to the little lady atthe Lazy D. "

The leader of the pursuers halted his men just out of range and cameforward alone, holding his right hand up in the usual signal of peace. In appearance he was not unlike Ned Bannister. There was the same long, slim, tiger build, with the flowing muscles rippling easily beneath theloose shirt; the same effect of power and dominance, the same clean, springy stride. The pose of the head, too, even the sweep of salientjaw, bore a marked resemblance. But similarity ceased at the expression. For instead of frankness there lurked here that hint of the devil ofstrong passion uncontrolled. He was the victim of his own moods, and inthe space of an hour one might, perhaps, read in that face cold cunning, cruel malignity, leering ribaldry, as well as the hard-bitten virtues ofunflinching courage and implacable purpose. 

"I reckon you're near enough, " suggested Mac, when the man hadapproached to within a hundred feet of the tree clump. 

"Y'u're drawing the dead-line, " the other acknowledged, indolently. "It won't take ten words to tell y'u what I want and mean to have. I'mgiving y'u two minutes to hand me over the body of Ned Bannister. Ify'u don't see it that way I'll come and make a lead mine of your wholeoutfit. "

"Y'u can't come too quick, seh. We're here a-shootin', and don't y'uforget it, " was McWilliams's prompt answer. 

The sinister face of the man from the Shoshones darkened. "Y'u've signedyour own death warrants, " he let out through set teeth, and at the wordswung on his heel. 

"The ball's about to open. Pardners for a waltz. Have a dust-cutter, Mac, before she grows warm. "

The puncher handed over his flask, and the other held it before his eyeand appraised the contents in approved fashion. "Don't mind if I do. Here's how!"

"How!" echoed Missou, in turn, and tipped up the bottle till the liquorgurgled down his baked throat. 

"He's fanning out his men so as to, get us both at the front and backdoor. Lucky there ain't but four of them. "

"I guess we better lie back to back, " proposed Missou. "If our luck'sgood I reckon they're going to have a gay time rushing this fort. "

A few desultory shots had already been dropped among the cottonwoods, and returned by the defendants when Missou let out a yell of triumph. 

"Glory Hallelujah! Here comes the boys splittin' down the roadhell-for-leather. That lopsided, ring-tailed snorter of a hawss-thiefis gathering his wolves for a hike back to the tall timber. Feed me acigareet, Mac. I plumb want to celebrate. "

It was as the cow-puncher had said. Down the road a cloud of dustwas sweeping toward them, in the centre of which they made out threehardriding cowboys from the ranch. Farther back, in the distance, wasanother dust whirl. The outlaw chief's hard, vigilant gaze swept overthe reinforcements! and decided instantly that the game had gone againsthim for the present. He whistled shrilly twice, and began a slow retreattoward the hills. The miscreants flung a few defiant shots at theadvancing cowmen, and disappeared, swallowed up in the earth swells. 

The homeward march was a slow one, for Bannister had begun to show signsof consciousness and it was necessary to carry him with extreme care. While they were still a mile from the ranch house the pinto and itsrider could be seen loping toward them. 

"Ride forward, Denver, and tell Miss Helen we're coming. Better have herget everything fixed to doctor him soon as we get there. Give him thebest show in the world, and he'll still be sailing awful close to thedivide. I'll bet a hundred plunks he'll cash in, anyway. "

"DONE!"

The voice came faintly from the improvised litter. Mac turned witha start, for he had not known that Bannister was awake to hissurroundings. The man appeared the picture of helplessness, all thelusty power and vigor stricken out of him; but his indomitable spiritstill triumphed over the physical collapse, for as the foreman lookeda faint smile touched the ashen lips. It seemed to say: "Still in thering, old man. "

CHAPTER 8. IN THE LAZY D HOSPITAL

Helen's first swift glance showed that the wounded man was Bannister. She turned in crisp command to her foreman. 

"Have him taken to my room and put to bed there. We have no time toprepare another. And send one of the boys on your best horse for adoctor. "

They carried the limp figure in with rough tenderness and laid him inthe bed. McWilliams unbuckled the belt and drew off the chaps; then, with the help of Denver, undressed the wounded man and covered himwith quilts. So Helen found him when she came in to attend his wounds, bringing with her such things as she needed for her task. Mrs. Winslow, the housekeeper, assisted her, and the foreman stayed to help, but itwas on the mistress of the ranch that the responsibility of saving himfell. Missou was already galloping to Bear Creek for a doctor, but thegirl knew that the battle must be fought and the issue decided before hecould arrive. 

He had fallen again into insensibility and she rinsed and dressed hiswounds, working with the quiet impersonal certainty of touch that didnot betray the inner turmoil of her soul. But McWilliams, his eyesfollowing her every motion and alert to anticipate her needs, saw thatthe color had washed from her face and that she was controlling herselfonly to meet the demands of the occasion. 

As she was finishing, the sheepman opened his eyes and looked at her. 

"You are not to speak or ask questions. You have been wounded and we aregoing to take care of you, " she ordered. 

"That's right good of y'u. I ce'tainly feet mighty trifling. " His wideeyes traveled round till they fell on the foreman. "Y'u see I cameback to help fill your hospital. Am I there now? Where am I?" His gazereturned to Helen with the sudden irritation of the irresponsible sick. 

"You are at the Lazy D, in my room. You are not to worry about anything. Everything's all right. "

He took her at her word and his eyes closed; but presently he began tomutter unconnected words and phrases. When his lids lifted again therewas a wilder look in his eyes, and she knew that delirium was beginning. At intervals it lasted for long; indeed, until the doctor came nextmorning in the small hours. He talked of many things Helen Messiter didnot understand, of incidents in his past life, some of them jerky withthe excitement of a tense moment, others apparently snatches of talkwith relatives. It was like the babbling of a child, irrelevant and yetoften insistent. He would in one breath give orders connected with thelambing of his sheep, in the next break into football talk, calling outsignals and imploring his men to hold them or to break through and getthe ball. Once he broke into curses, but his very oaths seemed to comefrom a clean heart and missed the vulgarity they might have had. Againhis talk rambled inconsequently over his youth, and he would urgehimself or someone else of the same name to better life. 

"Ned, Ned, remember your mother, " he would beseech. "She asked me tolook after you. Don't go wrong. " Or else it would be, "Don't disgracethe general, Ned. You'll break his heart if you blacken the old name. "To this theme he recurred repeatedly, and she noticed that when heimagined himself in the East his language was correct and his intonationcultured, though still with a suggestion of a Southern softness. 

But when he spoke of her his speech lapsed into the familiar drawl ofCattleland. "I ain't such a sweep as y'u think, girl. Some day I'll suretell y'u all about it, and how I have loved y'u ever since y'u scoopedme up in your car. You're the gamest little lady! To see y'u comea-sailin' down after me, so steady and businesslike, not turning a hairwhen the bullets hummed--I sure do love y'u, Helen. " And then he fellupon her first name and called her by it a hundred times softly tohimself. 

This happened when she was alone with him, just before the doctor came. She heard it with starry eyes and with a heart that flushed for joy awarmer color into her cheeks. Brushing back the short curls, she kissedhis damp forehead. It was in the thick of the battle, before he hadweathered that point where the issues of life and death pressed closely, and even in the midst of her great fears it brought her comfort. She wasto think often of it later, and always the memory was to be music inher heart. Even when she denied her love for him, assured herself it wasimpossible she could care for so shameful a villain, even then it wasa sweet torture to allow herself the luxury of recalling his brokendelirious phrases. At the very worst he could not be as bad asthey said; some instinct told her this was impossible. His fearlessdevil-may-care smile, his jaunty, gallant bearing, these pleaded againstthe evidence for him. And yet was it conceivable that a man of spirit, agentleman by training at least, would let himself lie under the odiumof such a charge if he were not guilty? Her tangled thoughts fought thisprofitless conflict for days. Nor could she dismiss it from her mind. Even after he began to mend she was still on the rack. For in somesnatch of good talk, when the fine quality of the man seemed to glow inhis face, poignant remembrance would stab her with recollection of thedifference between what he was and what he seemed to be. 

One of the things that had been a continual surprise to Helen was theshort time required by these deep-cheated and clean-blooded Westernersto recover from apparently serious wounds. It was scarce more than twoweeks since Bannister had filled the bunkhouse with wounded men, andalready two of them were back at work and the third almost fit forservice. For perhaps three days the sheepman's life hung in the balance, after which his splendid constitution and his outdoor life began totell. The thermometer showed that the fever had slipped down a notch, and he was now sleeping wholesomely a good part of his time. Altogether, unless for some unseen contingency, the doctor prophesied that thesheepman was going to upset the probabilities and get well. 

"Which merely shows, ma'am, what is possible when you give a sound mantwenty-four hours a day in our hills for a few years, " he added. "Thanksto your nursing he's going to shave through by the narrowest marginpossible. I told him to-day that he owed his life to you, MissMessiter. "

"I don't think you need have told him that Doctor, " returned that youngwoman, not a little vexed at him, "especially since you have just beentelling me that he owes it to Wyoming air and his own soundness ofconstitution. "

When she returned to the sickroom to give her patient his medicinehe wanted to tell her what the doctor had said, but she cut him offruthlessly and told him not to talk. 

"Mayn't I even say 'Thank you?'" he wanted to know. 

"No; you talk far too much as it is. "

He smiled "All right. Y'u sit there in that chair, where I can see y'udoing that fancywork and I'll not say a word. It'll keep, all right, what I want to say. "

"I notice you keep talking, " she told him, dryly. 

"Yes, ma'am. Y'u had better have let me say what I wanted to, but I'llbe good now. "

He fell asleep watching her, and when he awoke she was still sittingthere, though it was beginning to grow dark. He spoke before she knew hewas awake. 

"I'm going to get well, the doctor thinks. "

"Yes, he told me, " she answered. 

"Did he tell y'u it was your nursing saved me?"

"Please don't think about that. "

"What am I to think about? I owe y'u a heap, and it keeps piling up. Ireckon y'u do it all because it's your Christian duty?" he demanded. 

"It is my duty, isn't it?"

"I didn't say it wasn't, though I expaict Bighorn County will forget togive y'u a unanimous vote of thanks for doing it. I asked if y'u did itbecause it was your duty?"

"The reason doesn't matter so that I do it, " she answered, steadily. 

"Reasons matter some, too, though they ain't as important as actions outin this country. Back in Boston they figure more, and since y'u used togo to school back there y'u hadn't ought to throw down your professor ofethics. "

"Don't you think you have talked enough for the present?" she smiled, and added: "If I make you talk whenever I sit beside you I shall have tostay away. "

"That's where y'u've ce'tainly got the drop on me, ma'am. I'm a clamtill y'u give the word. "

Before a week he was able to sit up in a chair for an hour or two, andsoon after could limp into the living room with the aid of a walkingstick and his hostess. Under the tan he still wore an interestingpallor, but there could be no question that he was on the road tohealth. 

"A man doesn't know what he's missing until he gets shot up and isbrought to the Lazy D hospital, so as to let Miss Messiter exercise herChristian duty on him, " he drawled, cheerfully, observing the suddenglow on her cheek brought by the reference to his unanswered question. 

He made the lounge in the big sunny window his headquarters. From ithe could look out on some of the ranch activities when she was not withhim, could watch the line riders as they passed to and fro and commanda view of one of the corrals. There was always, too, the turquoise sky, out of which poured a flood of light on the roll of hilltops. Sometimeshe read to himself, but he was still easily tired, and preferred usuallyto rest. More often she read aloud to him while he lay back with hisleveled eyes gravely on her till the gentle, cool abstraction sheaffected was disturbed and her perplexed lashes rose to reproach theintensity of his gaze. 

She was of those women who have the heavenborn faculty of making homeof such fortuitous elements as are to their hands. Except her piano andsuch knickknacks as she had brought in a single trunk she had had todepend upon the resources of the establishment to which she had come, but it is wonderful how much can be done with some Navajo rugs, abearskin, a few bits of Indian pottery and woven baskets and a judiciousarrangement of scenic photographs. In a few days she would have herpictures from Kalamazoo, pending which her touch had transformed the bigliving room from a cheerless barn into a spot that was a comfort tothe eye and heart. To the wounded man who lay there slowly renewing theblood he had lost the room was the apotheosis of home, less, perhaps, byreason of what it was in itself than because it was the setting for herpresence--for her grave, sympathetic eyes, the sound of her clear voice, the light grace of her motion. He rejoiced in the delightful intimacythe circumstances made necessary. To hear snatches of joyous song andgay laughter even from a distance, to watch her as she came in and outon her daily tasks, to contest her opinions of books and life and seehow eagerly she defended them; he wondered himself at the strength ofthe appeal these simple things made to him. Already he was dreading theday when he must mount his horse and ride back into the turbulent lifefrom which she had for a time, snatched him. 

"I'll hate to go back to sheepherding, " he told her one day at lunch, looking at her across a snow-white tablecloth upon which were a serviceof shining silver, fragile china teacups and plates stamped Limoges. 

He was at the moment buttering a delicious French roll and she wasdaintily pouring tea from an old family heirloom. The contrast betweenthis and the dust and the grease of a midday meal at the end of a "chuckwagon" lent accent to his smiling lamentation. 

"A lot of sheepherding you do, " she derided. 

"A shepherd has to look after his sheep, y'u know. "

"You herd sheep just about as much as I punch cows. "

"I have to herd my herders, anyhow, and that keeps me on the move. "

"I'm glad there isn't going to be any more trouble between you and theLazy D. And that reminds me of another thing. I've often wonered whothose men could have been that attacked you the day you were hurt. "

She had asked the question almost carelessly, without any thought thatthis might be something he wished to conceal, but she recognized hermistake by the wariness that filmed his eyes instantly. 

"Room there for a right interesting guessing contest, " he replied. 

"You wouldn't need to guess, " she charged, on swift impulse. 

"Meaning that I know?"

"You do know. You can't deny that you now. "

"Well, say that I know?"

"Aren't you going to tell?"

He shook his head. "Not just yet. I've got private reasons for keepingit quiet a while. "

"I'm sure they are creditable to you, " came her swift ironic retort. 

"Sure, " he agreed, whimsically. "I must live up to the professionalstandard. Honor among thieves, y'u know. "

CHAPTER 9. MISS DARLING ARRIVES

Miss Messiter clung to civilization enough, at least, to prefer that herchambermaid should be a woman rather than a Chinese. It did not suit herpreconceived idea of the proper thing that Lee Ming should sweep floors, dust bric-a-brac, and make the beds. To see him slosh-sloshing aroundin his felt slippers made her homesick for Kalamazoo. There were otherreasons why the proprieties would be better served by having anotherwoman about the place; reasons that had to do with the chaperone systemthat even in the uncombed West make its claims upon unmarriedyoung women of respectability. She had with her for the presentfourteen-year-old Ida Henderson, but this arrangement was merelytemporary. 

Wherefore on the morning after her arrival Helen had sent two lettersback to "the States. " One of these had been to Mrs. Winslow, a widow offifty-five, inviting her to come out on a business basis as housekeeperof the Lazy D. The buxom widow had loved Helen since she had been atoddling baby, and her reply was immediate and enthusiastic. Eightdays later she had reported in person. The second letter bore theaffectionate address of Nora Darling, Detroit, Michigan. This also intime bore fruit at the ranch in a manner worthy of special mention. 

It was the fourth day after Ned Bannister had been carried back to theLazy D that Helen Messiter came out to the porch of the house with aletter in her hand. She found her foreman sitting on the steps waitingfor her, but he got up as soon as he heard the fall of her lightfootsteps behind him. 

"You sent for me, ma'am?" he asked, hat in hand. 

"Yes; I want you to drive into Gimlet Butte and bring back a person whomyou'll find at the Elk House waiting for you. I had rather you would goyourself, because I know you're reliable. "

"Thank you, ma'am. How will I know him?"

"It's a woman--a spinster. She's coming to help Mrs. Winslow. Inquirefor Miss Darling. She isn't used to jolting two days in a rig, but Iknow you will be careful of her. "

"I'll surely be as careful of the old lady as if she was my own mother. "

The mistress of the ranch smothered a desire to laugh. 

"I'm sure you will. At her age she may need a good deal of care. Becertain you take rug enough. "

"I'll take care of her the best I know how. Expect she's likelyrheumatic, but I'll wrop her up till she looks like a Cheyenne squawwhen tourist is trying to get a free shoot at her with camera. "

"Please do. I want her to get a good impression of Wyoming so that shewill stay. I don' know about the rheumatism, but you might ask her. "

There were pinpoints of merriment behind the guileless innocence of hereyes, but they came to the surface only after the foreman had departed. 

McWilliams ordered a team of young horse hitched, and presently set outon his two day; journey to Gimlet Butte. He reached that town in goodseason, left the team at a corral and walked back to the Elk House. The white dust of the plains was heavy on him, from the bandannathat loosely embraced the brown throat above the flannel shirt to theencrusted boots but through it the good humor of his tanned face smiledfraternally on a young woman he passes at the entrance to the hotel. Hergay smile met his cordially, and she was still in his mind while heran his eye down the register in search of the name he wanted. Thereit was--Miss Nora Darling, Detroit, Michigan--in the neatest of littleround letters, under date of the previous day's arrivals. 

"Is Miss Darling in?" asked McWilliams of the half-grown son of thelandlady who served in lieu of clerk and porter. 

"Nope! Went out a little while ago. Said to tell anybody to wait thatasked for her. "

Mac nodded, relieved to find that duty had postponed itself long enoughfor him to pursue the friendly smile that had not been wasted on hima few seconds before. He strolled out to the porch and decided at oncethat he needed a cigar more than anything else on earth. He was helpedto a realization of his need by seeing the owner of the smile disappearin an adjoining drug store. 

She was beginning on a nut sundae when the puncher drifted in. Shecontinued to devote even her eyes to its consumption, while the foremanopened a casual conversation with the drug clerk and lit his cigar. 

"How are things coming in Gimlet Butte?" he asked, by way of prolonginghis stay rather than out of desire for information. 

Yes, she certainly had the longest, softest lashes he had ever seen, andthe ripest of cherry lips, behind the smiling depths of which sparkledtwo rows of tiny pearls. He wished she would look at HIM and smileagain. There wasn't any use trying to melt a sundae with it, anyhow. 

"Sure, it's a good year on the range and the price of cows jumping, " heheard his sub-conscious self make answer to the patronizing inquiries ofhim of the "boiled" shirt. 

"Funny how pretty hair of that color was especially when there was somuch of it. You might call it a sort of coppery gold where the littlecurls escaped in tendrils and ran wild. A fellow--"

"Yes, I reckon most of the boys will drop around to the Fourth of Julycelebration. Got to cut loose once in a while, y'u know. "

A shy glance shot him and set him a-tingle with a queer delight. Gracious, what pretty dark velvety lashes she had!

She was rising already, and as she paid for the ice cream that innocentgaze smote him again with the brightest of Irish eyes conceivable. Itlingered for just a ponderable sunlit moment or him. She had smiled oncemore. 

After a decent interval Mac pursued his petit charmer to the hotel. She was seated on the porch reading a magazine, and was absorbedlyunconscious of him when he passed. For a few awkward moments he hungaround the office, then returned to the porch and took the chair mostdistant from her. He had sat there a long ten minutes before she lether hands and the magazine fall into her lap and demurely gave him hischance. 

"Can you tell me how far it is to the Lazy D ranch?"

"Seventy-two miles as the crow flies, ma'am. "

"Thank you. "

The conversation threatened to die before it was well born. DesperatelyMcWilliams tried to think of something to say to keep it alive withoutbeing too bold. 

"If y'u were thinking of traveling out that way I could give y'u a lift. I just came in to get another lady--an old lady that has just come tothis country. "

"Thank you, but I'm expecting a conveyance to meet me here. You didn'thappen to pass one on the way, I suppose?"

"No, I didn't. What ranch were y'u going to, ma'am?

"Miss Messiter's--the Lazy D. "

A suspicion began to penetrate the foreman's brain. "Y'u ain't MissDarling?"

"What makes you so sure I'm not?" she asked, tilting her dimpled chintoward him aggressively. 

"Y'u're too young, " he protested, helplessly. 

"I'm no younger than you are, " came her quick, indignant retort. 

Thus boldly accused of his youth, the foreman blushed. "I didn't meanthat. Miss Messiter said she was an old lady--"

"You needn't tell fibs about it. She couldn't have said anything of thekind. Who are you, anyhow?" the girl demanded, with spirit. 

"I'm the foreman of the Lazy D, come to get Miss Darling. My name isMcWilliams--Jim McWilliams. "

"I don't need your first name, Mr. McWilliams, " she assured him, sweetly. "And will you please tell me why you have kept me waiting heremore than thirty hours?"

"Miss Messiter didn't get your letter in time. Y'u see, we don't getmail every day at the Lazy D, " he explained, the while he hopefullywondered just when she was going to need his last name. 

"I don't see why you don't go after your mail every day at least, especially when Miss Messiter was expecting me. To leave me waitinghere thirty hours--I'll not stand it. When does the next train leave forDetroit?" she asked, imperiously. 

The situation seemed to call for diplomacy, and Jim McWilliams moved toa nearer chair. "I'm right sorry it happened, ma'am, and I'll bet MissMessiter is, too. Y'u see, we been awful busy one way and 'nother, and Iplumb neglected to send one of the boys to the post-office. "

"Why didn't one of them walk over after supper?" she demanded, severely. 

He curbed the smile that was twitching at his facial muscles. 

"Well, o' course it ain't so far, --only forty-three miles--still--"

"Forty-three miles to the post-office?"

"Yes, ma'am, only forty-three. If you'll excuse me this time--"

"Is it really forty-three?"

He saw that her sudden smile had brought out the dimples in the ovalface and that her petulance had been swept away by his astoundinginformation. 

"Forty-three, sure as shootin', except twict a week when it comes toSlauson's, and that's only twenty miles, " he assured her. "Used to beseventy-two, but the Government got busy with its rural free delivery, and now we get it right at our doors. "

"You must have big doors, " she laughed. 

"All out o' doors, " he punned. "Y'u see, our house is under our hat, andlike as not that's twenty miles from the ranchhouse when night falls. "

"Dear me!" She swept his graceful figure sarcastically. "And, of course, twenty miles from a brush, too. "

He laughed with deep delight at her thrust, for the warm youth in himdid not ask for pointed wit on the part of a young woman so attractiveand with a manner so delightfully provoking. 

"I expaict I have gathered up some scenery on the journey. I'll go brushit off and get ready for supper. I'd admire to sit beside y'u and passthe butter and the hash if y'u don't object. Y'u see, I don't often meetup with ladies, and I'd ought to improve my table manners when I geta chanct with one so much older than I am and o' course so much moreexperienced. "

"I see you don't intend to pass any honey with the hash, " she flashed, with a glimpse of the pearls. 

"DIDN'T y'u say y'u was older than me? I believe I've plumb forgot howold y'u said y'u was, Miss Darling. "

"Your memory's such a sieve it wouldn't be worth while telling you. After you've been to school a while longer maybe I'll try you again. "

"Some ladies like 'em young, " he suggested, amiably. 

"But full grown, " she amended. 

"Do y'u judge by my looks or my ways?" he inquired, anxiously. 

"By both. "

"That's right strange, " he mused aloud. "For judging by some of yourways you're the spinster Miss Messiter was telling me about, but judgingby your looks y'u're only the prettiest and sassiest twenty-year-old inWyoming. "

And with this shot he fled, to see what transformation he could effectwith the aid of a whiskbroom, a tin pan of alkali water and a rollertowel. 

When she met him at the supper table her first question was, "Did MissMessiter say I was an old maid?"

"Sho! I wouldn't let that trouble me if I was y'u. A woman ain't anyolder than she looks. Your age don't show to speak of. "

"But did she?"

"I reckon she laid a trap for me and I shoved my paw in. She wanted togive me a pleasant surprise. "

"Oh!"

"Don't y'u grow anxious about being an old maid. There ain't any inWyoming to speak of. If y'u like I'll tell the boys you're worriedand some of them will be Johnnie-on-the-Spot. They're awful gallant, cowpunchers are. "

"Some of them may be, " she differed. "If you want to know I'm justtwenty-one. "

He sawed industriously at his steak. "Y'u don't say! Just old enough tovote--like this steer was before they massacreed him. "

She gave him one look, and thereafter punished him with silence. 

They left Gimlet Butte early next morning and reached the Lazy D shortlyafter noon on the succeeding day. McWilliams understood perfectly thatstrenuous competition would inevitably ensue as soon as the Lazy Dbeheld the attraction he had brought into their midst. Nor did he needa phrenologist to tell him that Nora was a born flirt and that her shyslant glances were meant to penetrate tough hides to tender hearts. But this did not discourage him, and he set about making his individualimpression while he had her all to himself. He wasn't at all sure howdeep this went, but he had the satisfaction of hearing his first name, the one she had told him she had no need of, fall tentatively from herpretty lips before the other boys caught a glimpse of her. 

Shortly after his arrival at the ranch Mac went to make his report tohis mistress of some business matters connected with the trip. 

"I see you got back safely with the old lady, " she laughed when shecaught sight of him. 

His look reproached her. "Y'u said a spinster. "

"But it was you that insisted on the rheumatism. By the way, did you askher about it?"

"We didn't get that far, " he parried. 

"Oh! How far did you get?" She perched herself on the porch railing andmocked him with her friendly eyes. Her heart was light within her andshe was ready for anything in the way of fun, for the doctor had justpronounced her patient out of danger if he took proper care of himself. 

"About as fur as I got with y'u, ma'am, " he audaciously retorted. 

"We might disagree as to how far that is, " she flung back gayly withheightened color. 

"No, ma'am, I don't think we would. "

"But, gracious! You're not a Mormon. You don't want us both, do you?"she demanded, her eyes sparkling with the exhilaration of the tilt. 

"Could I get either one of y'u, do y'u reckon? That's what's worryingme. "

"I see, and so you intend to keep us both on the string. "

His joyous laughter echoed hers. "I expaict y'u would call thatpresumption or some other dictionary word, wouldn't y'u?"

"In anybody else perhaps, but surely not in Mr. McWilliams. "

"I'm awful glad to be trotting in a class by myself. "

"And you'll let us know when you have made your mind up which of us itis to be?"

"Well, mine ain't the only mind that has to be made up, " he drawled. 

She took this up gleefully. "I can't answer for Nora, but I'll jump atthe chance--if you decide to give it to me. "

He laughed delightedly into the hat he was momentarily expecting to puton. "I'll mill it over a spell and let y'u know, ma'am. "

"Yes, think it over from all points of view. Of course she is prettier, but then I'm not afflicted with rheumatism and probably wouldn't flirtas much afterward. I have a good temper, too, as a rule, but then so hasNora. "

"Oh, she's prettier, is she?" With boyish audacity he grinned at her. 

"What do you think?"

He shook his head. "I'll have to go to the foot of the class on that, ma'am. Give me an easier one. "

"I'll have to choose another subject then. What did you do about thatbunch of Circle 66 cows you looked at on your way in?"

They discussed business for a few minutes, after which she went back toher patient and he to his work. 

"Ain't she a straight-up little gentleman for fair?" the foreman askedhimself in rhetorical and exuberant question, slapping his hat againsthis leg as he strode toward the corral. "Think of her coming at me likeshe did, the blamed little thoroughbred. Y'u bet she knows me down tothe ground and how sudden I got over any fool notions I might a-startedto get in my cocoanut. But the way she came back at me, quick aslightning and then some, pretendin' all that foolishness and knowin' allthe time I'd savez the game. "

Both McWilliams and his mistress had guessed right in their surmise asto Nora Darling's popularity in the cow country. She made an immediateand pronounced hit. It was astonishing how many errands the men found totake them to "the house, " as they called the building where the mistressof the ranch dwelt. Bannister served for a time as an excellentexcuse. Judging from the number of the inquiries which the men foundit necessary to make as to his progress, Helen would have guessedhim exceedingly popular with her riders. Having a sense of humor, shementioned this to McWilliams one day. 

He laughed, and tried to turn it into a compliment to his mistress. Butshe would have none of it. 

"I know better, sir. They don't come here to see me. Nora is theattraction, and I have sense enough to know it. My nose is quite out ofjoint, " she laughed. 

Mac looked with gay earnestness at the feature she had mentioned. "There's a heap of difference in noses, " he murmured, apparently aproposof nothing. 

"That's another way of telling me that Nora's pug is the sweetest thingyou ever saw, " she charged. 

"I ain't half such a bad actor as some of the boys, " he deprecated. 

"Meaning in what way?"

"The Nora Darling way. "

He pronounced her name so much as if it were a caress that his mistresslaughed, and he joined in it. 

"It's your fickleness that is breaking my heart, though I knew I waslost as soon as I saw your beatific look on the day you got back withNora. The first week I came none of you could do enough for me. Now it'sall Nora, darling. " She mimicked gayly his intonation. 

"Well, ma'am, it's this way, " explained the foreman with a grin. "Y'u're right pleasant and friendly, but the boys have got a savvy waydown deep that y'u'd shuck that friendliness awful sudden if any of themdropped around with 'Object, Matrimony' in their manner. Consequenceis, they're loaded down to the ground with admiration of their boss, but they ain't presumptuous enough to expaict any more. I had notions, mebbe, I'd cut more ice, me being not afflicted with bashfulness. Mynotions faded, ma'am, in about a week. "

"Then Nora came?" she laughed. 

"No, ma'am, they had gone glimmering long before she arrived. I was justconvalescent enough to need being cheered up when she drapped in. "

"And are you cheered up yet?" his mistress asked. 

He took off his dusty hat and scratched his head. "I ain't rightcertain, yet, ma'am. Soon as I know I'm consoled, I'll be round with aninvite to the wedding. "

"That is, if you are. "

"If I am--yes. Y'u can't most always tell when they have eyes likehers. "

"You're quite an authority on the sex considering your years. "

"Yes, ma'am. " He looked aggrieved, thinking himself a man grown. "Howdid y'u say Mr. Bannister was?"

"Wait, and I'll send Nora out to tell you, " she flashed, and disappearedin the house. 

Conversation at the bunkhouse and the chucktent sometimes circledaround the young women at the house, but its personality rarely grewpronounced. References to Helen Messiter and the housemaid were usuallyby way of repartee at each other. For a change had come over the spiritof the Lazy D men, and, though a cheerful profanity still flowed freelywhen they were alone together, vulgarity was largely banished. 

The morning after his conversation with Miss Messiter, McWilliamswas washing in the foreman's room when the triangle beat the call forbreakfast, and he heard the cook's raucous "Come and get it. " There wasthe usual stampede for the tent, and a minute later Mac flung back theflap and entered. He took the seat at the head of the table, along thebenches on both sides of which the punchers were plying busy knives andforks. 

"A stack of chips, " ordered the foreman; and the cook's "Coming up" wasscarcely more prompt than the plate of hot cakes he set before the youngman. 

"Hen fruit, sunny side up, " shouted Reddy, who was further advanced inhis meal. 

"Tame that fog-horn, son, " advised Wun Hop; but presently he slid threefried eggs from a frying-pan into the plate of the hungry one. 

"I want y'u boys to finish flankin' that bunch of hill calves to-day, "said the foreman, emptying half a jug of syrup over his cakes. 

"Redtop, he ain't got no appetite these days, " grinned Denver, as thegentleman mentioned cleaned up a second loaded plate of ham, eggs andfried potatoes. "I see him studying a Wind River Bible* yesterday. Curious how in the spring a young man's fancy gits to wandering on housefurnishing. Red, he was taking the catalogue alphabetically. Carpets wasabsorbin' his attention, chairs on deck, and chandeliers in the hole, aswe used to say when we was baseball kids. "

 [* A Wind River Bible in the Northwest ranch country is a catalogue of one of the big Chicago department stores that does a large shipping business in the West. ]

"Ain't a word of truth in it, " indignantly denied the assailed, hisunfinished nose and chin giving him a pathetic, whipped puppy look. "Sho! I was just looking up saddles. Can't a fellow buy a new saddlewithout asking leave of Denver?"

"Cyarpets used to begin with a C in my spelling-book, but saddles gotoff right foot fust with a S, " suggested Mac amiably. 

"He was ce'tainly trying to tree his saddle among the C's. He waslooking awful loving at a Turkish rug. Reckon he thought it was asaddle-blanket, " derided Denver cheerfully. 

"Huh! Y'u're awful smart, Denver, " retaliated Reddy, his complexionmatching his hair. "Y'u talk a heap with your mouth. Nobody believes aword of what y'u say. "

Denver relaxed into a range song by way of repartee:

"I want mighty bad to be married, To have a garden and a home; Ice'tainly aim to git married, And have a gyurl for my own. "

"Aw! Y'u fresh guys make me tired. Y'u don't devil me a bit, not a bit. Whyfor should I care what y'u say? I guess this outfit ain't got nosurcingle on me. " Nevertheless, he made a hurried end of his breakfastand flung out of the tent. 

"Y'u boys hadn't ought to wound Reddy's tender feelings, and him so benton matrimony!" said Denver innocently. "Get a move on them fried spudsand sashay them down this way, if there's any left when y'u fill yourplate, Missou. "

Nor was Reddy the only young man who had dreams those days at the LazyD. Cupid must have had his hands full, for his darts punctured more thanone honest plainsman's heart. The reputation of the young women at theLazy D seemed to travel on the wings of the wind, and from far and nearCattleland sent devotees to this shrine of youth and beauty. So casuallythe victims drifted in, always with a good business excuse warranted toendure raillery and sarcasm, that it was impossible to say they had comeof set purpose to sun themselves in feminine smiles. 

As for Nora, it is not too much to say that she was having the time ofher life. Detroit, Michigan, could offer no such field for her expansivecharms as the Bighorn country, Wyoming. Here she might have her pickof a hundred, and every one of them picturesquely begirt with flannelshirt, knotted scarf at neck, an arsenal that bristled, and a sun-tanthat could be achieved only in the outdoors of the Rockies. Certainlythese knights of the saddle radiated a romance with which even herfloorwalker "gentleman friend" could not compete. 

CHAPTER 10. A SHEPHERD OF THE DESERT

It had been Helen Messiter's daily custom either to take a ride on herpony or a spin in her motor car, but since Bannister had been quarteredat the Lazy D her time had been so fully occupied that she had giventhis up for the present. The arrival of Nora Darling, however, took somuch work off her hands that she began to continue her rides and drives. 

Her patient was by this time so far recovered that he did not need herconstant attendance and there were reasons why she decided it best tospend only a minimum of her time with him. These had to do with herincreasing interest in the man and the need she felt to discourage it. It had come to a pretty pass, she told herself scornfully, when shefound herself inventing excuses to take her into the room where thismost picturesque of unhanged scamps was lying. Most good women are atheart puritans, and if Helen was too liberal to judge others narrowlyshe could be none the less rigid with herself. She might talk to him ofher duty, but it was her habit to be frank in thought and she knew thatsomething nearer than that abstraction had moved her efforts in hisbehalf. She had fought for his life because she loved him. She coulddeny it no longer. Nor was the shame with which she confessed itunmingled with pride. He was a man to compel love, one of the moodimperative, chain-armored in the outdoor virtues of strength andendurance and stark courage. Her abasement began only where hissuperlation ended. That a being so godlike in equipment should have beenfashioned without a soul, and that she should have given her heart tohim. This was the fount of her degradation. 

It was of these things she thought as she drove in the late afternoontoward those Antelope Peaks he had first pointed out to her. She sweptpast the scene of the battle and dipped down into the plains for a runto that western horizon behind the jagged mountain line of which the sunwas radiantly setting in a splash of glorious colors. Lost in thought, space slipped under her wheels unnoticed. Not till her car refused thespur and slowed to a despondent halt did she observe that velvet nightwas falling over the land. 

She prowled round the machine after the fashion of the motorist, examining details that might be the cause of the trouble. She discoveredsoon enough with instant dismay that the gasolene tank was empty. Reddy, always unreliable, must have forgotten to fill it when she told him to. 

By the road she must be thirty miles from home if she were a step;across country as the crow flies, perhaps twenty. She was a young womanof resolution, and she wasted no time in tears or regrets. The XIXranch, owned by a small "nester" named Henderson, could not be more thanfive or six miles to the southeast. If she struck across the hills shewould be sure to run into one of the barblines. At the XIX she couldget a horse and reach the Lazy D by midnight. Without any hesitation shestruck out. It was unfortunate that she did not have on her heavy lacedhigh boots, but she realized that she must take things as shefound them. Things might have been a good deal worse, she reflectedphilosophically. 

And before long they were worse, for the increasing darkness blotted outthe landmarks she was using as guides and she was lost among the hillwaves that rolled one after another across the range. Still she did notgive way, telling herself that it would be better after the moon wasup. She could then tell north from south, and so have a line by which totravel. But when at length the stars came out, thousands upon thousandsof them, and looked down on a land magically flooded with chillmoonlight, the girl found that the transformation of Wyoming into thissense of silvery loveliness had toned the distant mountain line to anindefinite haze that made it impossible for her to distinguish one peakfrom another. 

She wandered for hours, hungry and tired and frightened, though thislast she would not confess. 

"There's nothing to be afraid of, " she told herself over and over. "Evenif I have to stay out all night it will do me no harm. There's no needto be a baby about it. "

But try to evade it as she would, there was something in the lonelinessof this limitless stretch of hilltop that got on her nerves. Thevery shadows cast by the moonshine seemed too fantastic for reality. Something eerie and unearthly hovered over it all, and before she knewit a sob choked up her throat. 

Vague fancies filtered through her mind, weird imaginings born of thenight in a mind that had been swept from the moorings of reason. Sothat with no sensible surprise there came to her in that moonlit sea ofdesert the sound of a voice a clear sweet tenor swelling bravely in songwith the very ecstacy of pathos. 

It was the prison song from "Il Trovatore, " and the desolation of itslifted appeal went to the heart like water to the roots of flowers. 

 Ah! I have sigh'd to rest me. Deep in the quiet grave. 

The girl's sob caught in her breast, stilled with the awe of thatheavenly music. So for an instant she waited before it was borne in onher that the voice was a human one, and that the heaven from which itdescended was the hilltop above her. 

A wild laugh, followed by an oath, cut the dying echoes of the song. Shecould hear the swish of a quirt falling again and again, and the soundof trampling hoofs thudding on the hard, sun-cracked ground. Startled, she sprang to her feet, and saw silhouetted against the skyline a horseand his rider fighting for mastery. 

The battle was superb while it lasted. The horse had been a famousoutlaw, broken to the saddle by its owner out of the sheer passionfor victory, but there were times when its savage strength rebelled atabject submission, and this was one of them. It swung itself skyward, and came down like a pile-driver, camel-backed, and without joints inthe legs. Swiftly it rose again lunging forward and whirling in the air, then jarred down at an angle. The brute did its malevolent best, a furyincarnate. But the ride, was a match, and more than a match, for it. Hesat the saddle like a Centaur, with the perfect: unconscious grace of aborn master, swaying in his seat as need was, and spurring the horse toa blinder fury. 

Sudden as had been the start, no less sudden was the finish of thebattle. The bronco pounded to a stiff-legged standstill, trembled fora long minute like an aspen, and sank to a tame surrender, despite thesharp spurs roweling its bloody sides. 

"Ah, my beauty. You've had enough, have you?" demanded the cruel, triumphant voice of the rider. "You would try that game, would you? I'llteach you. "

"Stop spurring that horse, you bully. "

The man stopped, in sheer amazement at this apparition which had leapedout of the ground almost at his feet. His wary glance circled the hillsto make sure she was alone. 

"Ce'tainly, ma'am. We're sure delighted to meet up with you. Ain't we, Two-step?"

For himself, he spoke the simple truth. He lived in his sensations, spurring himself to fresh ones as he had but just now been spurringhis horse to sate the greed of conquest in him. And this high-spirited, gallant creature--he could feel her vital courage in the very ringof her voice--offered a rare fillip to his jaded appetite. The dusky, long-lashed eyes which always give a woman an effect of beauty, thesplendid fling of head, and the piquant, finely cut features, with theirunconscious tale of Brahmin caste, the long lines of the supple body, willowy and yet plump as a partridge--they went to his head like strongwine. Here was an adventure from the gods--a stubborn will to bend, thepride of a haughty young beauty to trail in the dust, her untamed heartto break if need be. The lust of the battle was on him already. She wasa woman to dream about, "Sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath, "

he told himself exultantly as he slid from his horse and stood bowingbefore her. 

And he, for his part, was a taking enough picture of devil-may-caregallantry gone to seed. The touch of jaunty impudence in his humility, not less than the daring admiration of his handsome eyes and the easy, sinuous grace of his flexed muscles, labeled him what he was--a man boldand capable to do what he willed, and a villain every inch of him. 

Said she, after that first clash of stormy eyes with bold, admiringones:

"I am lost--from the Lazy D ranch. "

"Why, no, you're found, " he corrected, white teeth flashing in a smile. 

"My motor ran out of gasolene this afternoon. I've been"--there was acatch in her voice--"wandering ever since. "

"You're played out, of course, and y'u've had no supper, " he said, hisquiet close gaze on her. 

"Yes, I'm played out and my nerve's gone. " She laughed a littlehysterically. "I expect I'm hungry and thirsty, too, though I hadn'tnoticed it before. "

He whirled to his saddle, and had the canteen thongs unloosed in amoment. While she drank he rummaged from his saddle-bags some sandwichesof jerky and a flask of whiskey. She ate the sandwiches, he the whilewatching her with amused sympathy in his swarthy countenance. 

"You ain't half-bad at the chuck-wagon, Miss Messiter, " he told her. 

She stopped, the sandwich part way to her mouth. "I don't remember yourface. I've met so many people since I came to the Lazy D. Still, I thinkI should remember you. "

He immediately relieved of duty her quasi apology. "You haven't seenmy face before, " he laughed, and, though she puzzled over the doublemeaning that seemed to lurk behind his words and amuse him, she couldnot find the key to it. 

It was too dark to make out his features at all clearly, but she wassure she had seen him before or somebody that looked very much like him. 

"Life on the range ain't just what y'u can call exciting, " he continued, "and when a young lady fresh from back East drops among us while sixgunsare popping, breaks up a likely feud and mends right neatly all theventilated feudists it's a corollary to her fun that's she is going tobecome famous. "

What he said was true enough. The unsolicited notoriety her exploit hadbrought upon her had been its chief penalty. Garbled versions of it hadappeared with fake pictures in New York and Chicago Sunday supplements, and all Cattleland had heard and discussed it. No matter into whatunfrequented canon she rode, some silent cowpuncher would look at heras they met with admiring eyes behind which she read a knowledge of thestory. It was a lonely desolate country, full of the wide deep silencesof utter emptiness, yet there could be no footfall but the whisper of itwas bruited on the wings of the wind. 

"Do you know where the Lazy D ranch is from here?" she asked. 

He nodded. 

"Can you take me home?"

"I surely can. But not to-night. You're more tired than y'u know. We'llcamp here, and in the mo'ning we'll hit the trail bright and early. "

This did not suit her at all. "Is it far to the Lazy D?" she inquiredanxiously. 

"Every inch of forty miles. There's a creek not more than two hundredyards from here. We'll stay there till morning, " he made answer in amatter of course voice, leading the way to the place he had mentioned. 

She followed, protesting. Yet though it was not in accord with hercivilized sense of fitness, she knew that what he proposed was thecommon sense solution. She was tired and worn out, and she could seethat his broncho had traveled far. 

Having reached the bank of the creek, he unsaddled, watered his horseand picketed it, and started a fire. Uneasily she watched him. 

"I don't like to sleep out. Isn't there a ranchhouse near?"

"Y'u wouldn't call it near by the time we had reached it. What's tohinder your sleeping here? Isn't this room airy enough? And don't y'ulike the system of lighting? 'Twas patented I forget how many millionyears ago. Y'u ain't going to play parlor girl now after getting thereputation y'u've got for gameness, are y'u?"

But he knew well enough that it was no silly schoolgirl fear she had, but some deep instinct in her that distrusted him and warned her tobeware. So, lightly he took up the burden of the talk while he gatheredcottonwood branches for the fire. 

"Now if I'd only thought to bring a load of lumber and somecarpenters--and a chaperon, " he chided himself in burlesque, his boldeyes closely on the girl's face to gloat on the color that flew to hercheeks at his suggestion. 

She hastened to disclaim lightly the feeling he had unmasked in her. "Itis a pity, but it can't be helped now. I suppose I am cross and don'tseem very grateful. I'm tired out and nervous, but I am sure that I'llenjoy sleeping out. If I don't I shall not be so ungenerous as to blameyou. "

He soon had a cup of steaming coffee ready for her, and the heat of itmade a new woman of her. She sat in the warm fire glow, and beganto feel stealing over her a delightful reaction of languor. She toldherself severely it was ridiculous to have been so foolishly prim aboutthe inevitable. 

"Since you know my name, isn't it fair that I should know yours?" shesmilingly asked, more amiably than she had yet spoken to him. 

"Well, since I have found the lamb that was lost, y'u may call me ashepherd of the desert. "

"Then, Mr. Shepherd, I'm very glad to meet you. I don't remember whenI ever was more glad to meet a stranger. " And she added with a littlelaugh: "It's a pity I'm too sleepy to do my duty by you in a socialway. "

"We'll let that wait till to-morrow. Y'u'll entertain me plenty then. I'll make your bunk up right away. "

She was presently lying with her feet to the fire, snugly rolled in hissaddle blankets. But though her eyes were heavy, her brain was stilltoo active to permit her to sleep immediately. The excitement of heradventure was too near, the emotions of the day too poignantly vivid, tolose their hold on her at once. For the first time in her life shelay lapped in the illimitable velvet night, countless unwinking starslighting the blue-black dream in which she floated. The enchantment ofthe night's loveliness swept through her sensitive pulses and thrilledher with the mystery of the great life of which she was an atom. Aweheld her a willing captive. 

She thought of many things, of her past life and its incongruity withthe present, of the man who lay wounded at the Lazy D, of this otherwide-shouldered vagabond who was just now in the shadows beyond thefirelight, pacing up and down with long, light even strides as he lookedto his horse and fed the fire. She watched him make an end of the thingshe found to do and then take his place opposite her. Who and what washe, this fascinating scamp who one moment flooded the moonlit desertwith inspired snatches from the opera sung in the voice of an angel, andthe next lashed at his horse like a devil incarnate? How reconcile theoutstanding inconsistencies in him? For his every inflection, everymotion, proclaimed the strain of good blood gone wrong and trampledunder foot of set, sardonic purpose, indicated him a man of culture ina hell of his own choosing. Lounging on his elbow in the flickeringshadows, so carelessly insouciant in every picturesque inch of him, heseemed to radiate the melodrama of the untamed frontier, just as herguest of tarnished reputation now at the ranch seemed to breathe forthits romance. 

"Sleep well, little partner. Don't be afraid; nothing can harm you, "this man had told her. 

Promptly she had answered, "I'm not afraid, thank you, in the least";and after a moment had added, not to seem hostile, "Good night, bigpartner. "

But despite her calm assurance she knew she did not feel so entirelysafe as if it had been one of her own ranch boys on the other side ofthe fire, or even that other vagabond who had made so direct an appealto her heart. If she were not afraid, at least she knew some vague hintof anxiety. 

She was still thinking of him when she fell asleep, and when sheawakened the first sound that fell on her ears was his tuneful whistle. Indeed she had an indistinct memory of him in the night, wrapping theblankets closer about her when the chill air had half stirred her fromher slumber. The day was still very young, but the abundant desert lightdismissed sleep summarily. She shook and brushed the wrinkles out of herclothes and went down to the creek to wash her face with the inadequatefacilities at hand. After redressing her hair she returned to the fire, upon which a coffee pot was already simmering. 

She came up noiselessly behind him, but his trained senses were apprisedof her approach. 

"Good mo'ning! How did y'u find your bedroom?" he asked, without turningfrom the bacon he was broiling on the end of a stick. 

"Quite up to the specifications. With all Wyoming for a floor and thesky for a ceiling, I never had a room I liked better. But have you eyesin the back of your head?"

He laughed grimly. "I have to be all eyes and ears in my business. "

"Is your business of a nature so sensitive?"

"As much so as stocks on Wall Street. And we haven't any ticker to warnus to get under cover. Do you take cream in your coffee, Miss Messiter?"

She looked round in surprise. "Cream?"

"We're in tin-can land, you know, and live on air-tights. I milk my cowwith a can-opener. Let me recommend this quail on toast. " He handed hera battered tin plate, and prepared to help her from the frying-pan. 

"I suppose that is another name for pork?"

"No, really. I happened to bag a couple of hooters before you wakened. "

"You're a missionary of the good-foods movement. I shall name yourmission St. Sherry's-in-the-Wilderness. "

"Ah, Sherry's! That's since my time. I don't suppose I should know myway about in little old New York now. "

She found him eager to pick up again the broken strands that hadconnected him with the big world from which he had once come. It hadbeen long since she had enjoyed a talk more, for he expressed himselfwith wit and dexterity. But through her enjoyment ran a note ofapprehension. He was for the moment a resurrected gentleman. But whatwould he be next? She had an insistent memory of a heavenly flood ofmusic broken by a horrible discord of raucous oaths. 

It was he that lingered over their breakfast, loath to make the firstmove to bring him back into realities; and it was she that had tosuggest the need of setting out. But once on his feet, he saddled andpacked swiftly, with a deftness born of experience. 

"We'll have to ask Two-step to carry double to-day, " he said, as hehelped her to a place behind him. 

Two-step had evidently made an end of the bronco spree upon which hehad been the evening before, for he submitted sedately to his unusualburden. The first hilltop they reached had its surprise to offer thegirl. In a little valley below them, scarce a mile away, nestled a ranchwith its corrals and buildings. 

"Look!" she exclaimed; and then swiftly, "Didn't you know it was there?"

"Yes, that's the Hilke place, " he answered with composure. "It hasn'tbeen occupied for years. "

"Isn't that some one crossing to the corral now?"

"No. A stray cow, I reckon. "

They dropped into a hollow between the hills and left the ranch on theirleft. She was not satisfied, and yet she had not grounds enough uponwhich to base a suspicion. For surely the figure she had seen had beenthat of a man. 

CHAPTER 12. MISTRESS AND MAID

Now that it was safely concluded, Helen thought the adventure almostworthwhile for the spontaneous expressions of good will it had drawnforth from her adherents. Mrs. Winslow and Nora had taken her totheir arms and wept and laughed over her in turn, and in their silentundemonstrative way she had felt herself hedged in by unusual solicitudeon the part of her riders. It was good--none but she knew how good--tobe back among her own, to bask in a friendliness she could not doubt. It was best of all to sit opposite Ned Bannister again with no weight onher heart from the consciousness of his unworthiness. 

She could affect to disregard the gray eyes that followed her withsuch magnetized content about the living room, but beneath her coolself-containment she knew the joyous heart in her was strangely buoyant. He loved her, and she had a right to let herself love him. This wasenough for the present. 

"They're so plumb glad to see y'u they can't let y'u alone, " laughedBannister at the sound of a knock on the door that was about the fifthin as many minutes. 

This time it proved to be Nora, come to find out what her mistress wouldlike for supper. Helen turned to the invalid. 

"What would you like, Mr. Bannister?"

"I should like a porterhouse with mushrooms, " he announced promptly. 

"You can't have it. You know what the doctor said. " Very peremptorilyshe smiled this at him. 

"He's an old granny, Miss Messiter. "

"You may have an egg on toast. "

"Make it two, " he pleaded. "Excitement's just like caviar to theappetite, and seeing y'u safe--"

"Very well--two, " she conceded. 

They ate supper together in a renewal of the pleasant intimacy sodelightful to both. He lay on the lounge, propped up with sofa cushions, the while he watched her deft fingers butter the toast and prepare hisegg. It was surely worth while to be a convalescent, given so sweet acomrade for a nurse; and after he had moved over to the table he enjoyedimmensely the gay firmness with which she denied him what was not goodfor him. 

"I'll bet y'u didn't have supper like this at Robbers' Roost. " he toldher, enthusiastically. 

"It wasn't so bad, considering everything. " She was looking directly athim as she spoke. "Your cousin is rather a remarkable man in some ways. He manages to live on the best that can be got in tin-can land. "

"Did he tell y'u he was my cousin?" he asked, slowly. 

"Yes, and that his name was Ned Bannister, too?"

"Did that explain anything to y'u?"

"It explained a great deal, but it left some things not clear yet. "

"For instance?"

"For one thing, the reason why you should bear the odium of his crimes. I suppose you don't care for him, though I can see how you might in away. "

"I don't care for him in the least, though I used to when we wereboys. As to letting myself be blamed for his crimes. I did it becauseI couldn't help myself. We look more or less alike, and he was cunningenough to manufacture evidence against me. We were never seen together, and so very few know that there are two Bannisters. At first I used toprotest, but I gave it up. There wasn't the least use. I could only waitfor him to be captured or killed. In the meantime it didn't make me anymore popular to be a sheepman. "

"Weren't you taking a long chance of being killed first? Some one with agrudge against him might have shot you. "

"They haven't yet, " he smiled. 

"You might at least have told me how it was, " she reproached. 

"I started to tell y'u that first day, but it looked so much of a fairytale to unload that I passed it up. "

"Then you ought not to blame me for thinking you what you were not. "

"I don't remember blaming y'u. The fact is I thought it awful white ofy'u to do your Christian duty so thorough, me being such a miscreant, "he drawled. 

"You gave me no chance to think well of you. "

"But yet y'u did your duty from A to Z. "

"We're not talking about my duty, " she flashed back. "My point is thatyou weren't fair to me. If I thought ill of you how could I help it?"

"I expaict your Kalamazoo conscience is worryin' y'u because y'umisjudged me. "

"It isn't, " she denied instantly. 

"I ain't of a revengeful disposition. I'll forgive y'u for doing yourduty and saving my life twice, " he said, with a smile of whimsicalirony. 

"I don't want your forgiveness. "

"Well, then for thinking me a 'bad man. '"

"You ought to beg my pardon. I was a friend, at least you say I actedlike one--and you didn't care enough to right yourself with me. "

"Maybe I cared too much to risk trying it. I knew there would be proofsome time, and I decided to lie under the suspicion until I could getit. I see now that wasn't kind or fair to you. I am sorry I didn't telly'u all about it. May I tell y'u the story now?"

"If you wish. "

It was a long story, but the main points can be told in a paragraph. Thegrandfather of the two cousins, General Edward Bannister, had worn theConfederate gray for four years, and had lost an arm in the service ofthe flag with the stars and bars. After the war he returned to hishome in Virginia to find it in ruins, his slaves freed and his fieldsmortgaged. He had pulled himself together for another start, andhad practiced law in the little town where his family had lived forgenerations. Of his two sons, one was a ne'er-do-well. He was one ofthose brilliant fellows of whom much is expected that never develops. He had a taste for low company, married beneath him, and, after a careerthat was a continual mortification and humiliation to his father, waskilled in a drunken brawl under disgraceful circumstances, leavingbehind a son named for the general. The second son of General Bannisteralso died young, but not before he had proved his devotion to his fatherby an exemplary life. He, too, was married and left an only son, alsonamed for the old soldier. The boys were about of an age and were wellmatched in physical and mental equipment. But the general, who had takenthem both to live with him, soon discovered that their characters wereas dissimilar as the poles. One grandson was frank, generous, open asthe light; the other was of a nature almost degenerate. In fact, eachhad inherited the qualities of his father. Tales began to come to theold general's ears that at first he refused to credit. But eventuallyit was made plain to him that one of the boys was a rake of the mostobjectionable type. 

There were many stormy scenes between the general and his grandson, butthe boy continued to go from bad to worse. After a peculiarly flagrantcase, involving the character of a respectable young girl, young NedBannister was forbidden his ancestral home. It had been by means of hiscousin that this last iniquity of his had been unearthed, and the boyhad taken it to his grandfather in hot indignation as the last hope ofprotecting the reputation of the injured girl. From that hour the evilhatred of his cousin, always dormant in the heart, flamed into activeheat. The disowned youth swore to be revenged. A short time later thegeneral died, leaving what little property he had entirely to the onegrandson. This stirred again the bitter rage of the other. He set fireto the house that had been willed his cousin, and took a train thatnight for Wyoming. By a strange irony of fate they met again in theWest years later, and the enmity between them was renewed, growing everymonth more bitter on the part of the one who called himself the King ofthe Bighorn Country. 

She broke the silence after his story with a gentle "Thank you. I canunderstand why you don't like to tell the story. "

"I am very glad of the chance to tell it to you, " he answered. 

"When you were delirious you sometimes begged some one you called Nednot to break his mother's heart. I thought then you might be speaking toyourself as ill people do. Of course I see now it was your cousin thatwas on your mind. "

"When I was out of my head I must have talked a lot of nonsense, "he suggested, in the voice of a question. "I expect I had opinions Iwouldn't have been scattering around so free if I'd known what I wassaying. "

He was hardly prepared for the tide of color that swept her cheeks athis words nor for the momentary confusion that shuttered the shy eyeswith long lashes cast down. 

"Sick folks do talk foolishness, they say, " he added, his gaze trainedon her suspiciously. 

"Do they?"

"Mrs. Winslow says I did. But when I asked her what it was I said sheonly laughed and told me to ask y'u. Well, I'm askin' now. "

She became very busy over the teapot. "You talked about the work at yourranch--sheep dipping and such things. "

"Was that all?"

"No, about lots of other things--football and your early life. I don'tsee what Mrs. Winslow meant. Will you have some more tea?"

"No, thank y'u. I have finished. Yes, that ce'tainly seems harmless. Ididn't know but I had been telling secrets. " Still his unwavering eyesrested quietly on her. 

"Secrets?" She summoned her aplomb to let a question rest lightly inthe face she turned toward him, though she was afraid she met hiseyes hardly long enough for complete innocence "Why, yes, secrets. " Hemeasured looks with her deliberately before he changed the subject, andhe knew again the delightful excitement of victory. "Are y'u going toread to me this evening?"

She took his opening so eagerly that he smiled, at which her colormounted again. 

"If y'u like. What shall I read?"

"Some more of Barrie's books, if y'u don't mind. When a fellow is weakas a kitten he sorter takes to things that are about kids. "

Nora came in and cleared away the supper things. She was just beginningto wash them when McWilliams and Denver dropped into the kitchen bydifferent doors. Each seemed surprised and disappointed at the presenceof the other. Nora gave each of them a smile and a dishcloth. 

"Reddy, he's shavin' and Frisco's struggling with a biled shirt--I meanwith a necktie, " Denver hastily amended. "They'll be along right soon, Ishouldn't wonder. "

"Y'u better go tell the boys Miss Nora don't want her kitchen litteredup with so many of them, " suggested his rival. 

"Y'u're foreman here. I don't aim to butt into your business, Mac, "grinned back the other, polishing a tea plate with the towel. 

"I want to get some table linen over to Lee Ming to-night, " said Nora, presently. 

"Denver, he'll be glad to take it for y'u, Miss Nora. He's realobliging, " offered Mac, generously. 

"I've been in the house all day, so I need a walk. I thought perhaps oneof you gentlemen--" Miss Nora looked from one to the other of them withdeep innocence. 

"Sure, I'll go along and carry it. Just as Mac says, I'll be realpleased to go, " said Denver, hastily. 

Mac felt he had been a trifle precipitate in his assumption that Noradid not intend to go herself. Lee Ming had established a laundrysome half mile from the ranch, and the way thereto lay through mostpicturesque shadow and moonlight. The foreman had conscientious scruplesagainst letting Denver escort her down such a veritable lovers' lane ofromantic scenery. 

"I don't know as y'u ought to go out in the night air with that cold, Denver. I'd hate a heap to have y'u catch pneumony. It don't seem to meI'd be justified in allowin' y'u to, " said the foreman, anxiously. 

"You're THAT thoughtful, Mac. But I expect mebbe a little saunter withMiss Nora will do my throat good. We'll walk real slow, so's not to wearout my strength. "

"Big, husky fellows like y'u are awful likely to drop off with pneumony. I been thinkin' I got some awful good medicine that would be the rightstuff for y'u. It's in the drawer of my wash-stand. Help yourselfliberal and it will surely do y'u good. Y'u'll find it in a bottle. "

"I'll bet it's good medicine, Mac. After we get home I'll drop around. In the washstand, y'u said?"

"I hate to have y'u take such a risk, " Mac tried again. "There ain't abit of use in y'u exposing yourself so careless. Y'u take a hot footbathand some of that medicine, Denver, then go right straight to bed, and inthe mo'ning y'u'll be good as new. Honest, y'u won't know yourself. "

"Y'u got the best heart, Mac. " Nora giggled. 

"Since I'm foreman I got to be a mother to y'u boys, ain't I?"

"Y'u're liable to be a grandmother to us if y'u keep on, " came back theyoung giant. 

"Y'u plumb discourage me, Denver, " sighed the foreman. 

"No, sir! The way I look at it, a fellow's got to take some risk. Now, y'u cayn't tell some things. I figure I ain't half so likely to catchpneumony as y'u would be to get heart trouble if y'u went walking withMiss Nora, " returned Denver. 

A perfect gravity sat on both their faces during the progress of most oftheir repartee. 

"If your throat's so bad, Mr. Halliday, I'll put a kerosene rag roundit for you when we get back, " Nora said, with a sweet little glance ofsympathy that the foreman did not enjoy. 

Denver, otherwise "Mr. Halliday, " beamed. "Y'u're real kind, ma'am. I'll bet that will help it on the outside much as Mac's medicine willinside. "

"What'll y'u do for my heart, ma'am, if it gits bad the way Denverfigures it will?"

"Y'u might try a mustard plaster, " she gurgled, with laughter. 

For once the debonair foreman's ready tongue had brought him to defeat. He was about to retire from the field temporarily when Nora herselfoffered first aid to the wounded. 

"We would like to have you come along with us, Mr. McWilliams. I wantyou to come if you can spare the time. "

The soft eyes telegraphed an invitation with such a subtle suggestion ofa private understanding that Mac was instantly encouraged to accept. 

He knew, of course, that she was playing them against each other andsitting back to enjoy the result, but he was possessed of the hopecommon to youths in his case that he really was on a better footing withher than the other boys. This opinion, it may be added, was shared byDenver, Frisco and even Reddy as regards themselves. Which is merelyanother way of putting the regrettable fact that this very charmingyoung woman was given to coquetting with the hearts of her admirers. 

"Any time y'u get oneasy about that cough y'u go right on home, Denver. Don't stay jest out of politeness. We'll never miss y'u, anyhow, " theforeman assured him. 

"Thank y'u, Mac. But y'u see I got to stay to keep Miss Nora fromgetting bored. "

"Was it a phrenologist strung y'u with the notion y'u was a cure forlonesomeness?"

"Shucks! I don't make no such claims. The only thing is it's a comfortwhen you're bored to have company. Miss Nora, she's so polite. But, y'usee, if I'm along I can take y'u for a walk when y'u get too bad. "

They reached the little trail that ran up to Lee Ming's place, andDenver suggested that Mac run in with the bundle so as to save Nora theclimb. 

"I'd like to, honest I would. But since y'u thought of it first I won'tsteal the credit of doing Miss Nora a good turn. We'll wait right herefor y'u till y'u come back. "

"We'll all go up together, " decided Nora, and honors were easy. 

In the pleasant moonlight they sauntered back, two of them still engagedin lively badinage, while the third played chorus with appreciativelittle giggles and murmurs of "Oh, Mr. Halliday!" and "You know you'rejust flattering me, Mr. McWilliams. "

If they had not been so absorbed in their gay foolishness the two menmight not have walked so innocently into the trap waiting for themat their journey's end. As it was, the first intimation they had ofanything unusual was a stern command to surrender. 

"Throw up your hands. Quick, you blank fools!"

A masked man covered them, in each hand a six-shooter, and at hissummons the arms of the cow-punchers went instantly into the air. 

Nora gave an involuntary little scream of dismay. 

"Y'u don't need to be afraid, lady. Ain't nobody going to hurt you, Ireckon, " the masked man growled. 

"Sure they won't, " Mac reassured her, adding ironically: "Thisgun-play business is just neighborly frolic. Liable to happen any day inWyoming. "

A second masked man stepped up. He, too was garnished with an arsenal. 

"What's all this talking about?" he demanded sharply. 

"We just been having a little conversation seh?" returned McWilliams, gently, his vigilant eyes searching through the disguise of the other"Just been telling the lady that your call is in friendly spirit. Noobjections, I suppose?"

The swarthy newcomer, who seemed to be in command, swore sourly. 

"Y'u put a knot in your tongue, Mr. Foreman. "

"Ce'tainly, if y'u prefer, " returned the indomitable McWilliams. 

"Shut up or I'll pump lead into you!"

"I'm padlocked, seh. "

Nora Darling interrupted the dialogue by quietly fainting. The foremancaught her as she fell. 

"See what y'u done, y'u blamed chump!" he snapped. 

CHAPTER 13. THE TWO COUSINS

The sheepman lay at his ease, the strong supple lines of him stretchedlazily on the lounge. Helen was sitting beside him in an easy chair, andhe watched the play of her face in the lamplight as she read from "TheLittle White Bird. " She was very good to see, so vitally alive and fullof a sweet charm that half revealed and half concealed her personality. The imagination with which she threw herself into a discussion of thechild fancies portrayed by the Scotch writer captured his fancy. Itdelighted him to tempt her into discussions that told him by suggestionsomething of what she thought and was. 

They were in animated debate when the door opened to admit somebodyelse. He had stepped in so quietly that he stood there a little whilewithout being observed, smiling down at them with triumphant malicebehind the mask he wore. Perhaps it was the black visor that wasresponsible for the Mephisto effect, since it hid all the face but theleering eyes. These, narrowed to slits, swept the room and came back toits occupants. He was a tall man and well-knit, dressed incongruously inup-to-date riding breeches and boots, in combination with the usual grayshirt, knotted kerchief and wide-brimmed felt hat of the horseman of theplains. The dust of the desert lay thick on him, without in the leastobscuring a certain ribald elegance, a distinction of wickednessthat rested upon him as his due. To this result his debonair mannercontributed, though it carried with it no suggestion of weakness. To thegirl who looked up and found him there he looked indescribably sinister. 

She half rose to her feet, dilated eyes fixed on him. 

"Good evenin'. I came to make sure y'u got safe home, Miss Messiter, " hesaid. 

The eyes of the two men clashed, the sheepman's stern and unyielding, his cousin's lit with the devil of triumph. But out of the faces of bothmen looked the inevitable conflict, the declaration of war that neverends till death. 

"I've been a heap anxious about y'u--couldn't sleep for worrying. So Isaddled up and rode in to find out if y'u were all right and to inquirehow Cousin Ned was getting along. "

The sheepman, not deigning to move an inch from his position, looked insilence his steady contempt. 

"This conversation sounds a whole lot like a monologue up to date, " hecontinued. "Now, maybe y'u don't know y'u have the honor of entertainingthe King of the Bighorn. " The man's brown hand brushed the mask from hiseyes and he bowed with mocking deference. "Miss Messiter, allow me tointroduce myself again--Ned Bannister, train robber, rustler, kidnapperand general bad man. But I ain't told y'u the worst yet. I'm cousin to asheepherder' and that's the lowest thing that walks. "

He limped forward a few steps and sat down. "Thank you, I believe I willstay a while since y'u both ask me so urgent. It isn't often I meet witha welcome so hearty and straight from the heart. "

It was not hard to see how the likeness between them contributed tothe mistake that had been current concerning them. Side by side, noman could have mistaken one for the other. The color of their eyes, the shade of hair, even the cut of their features, were different. Butbeneath all distinctions in detail ran a family resemblance not to bedenied. This man looked like his cousin, the sheepman, as the lattermight have done if all his life he had given a free rein to evilpassions. 

The height, the build, the elastic tread of each, made furthercontributions to this effect of similarity. 

"What are you doing here?" They were the first words spoken by the manon the lounge and they rang with a curt challenge. 

"Come to inquire after the health of my dear cousin, " came the promptsilken answer. 

"You villain!"

"My dear cousin, y'u speak with such conviction that y'u almost persuademe. But of course if I'm a villain I've got to live up to my reputation. Haven't I, Miss Messiter?"

"Wouldn't it be better to live it down?" she asked with a quietnessthat belied her terror. For there had been in his manner a threat, not against her but against the man whom her heart acknowledged as herlover. 

He laughed. "Y'u're still hoping to make a Sunday school superintendentout of me, I see. Y'u haven't forgot all your schoolmarm ways yet, butI'll teach y'u to forget them. "

The other cousin watched him with a cool, quiet glance that neverwavered. The outlaw was heavily armed, but his weapons were sheathed, and, though there was a wary glitter behind the vindictive exultationin his eyes, his capable hands betrayed no knowledge of the existence ofhis revolvers. It was, he knew, to be a moral victory, if one at all. 

"Hope I'm not disturbing any happy family circle, " he remarked, and, taking two limping steps forward, he lifted the book from the girl'sunresisting hands. "H'm! Barrie. I don't go much on him. He's toosissy for me. But I could have guessed the other Ned Bannister wouldbe reading something like that, " he concluded, a flicker of sneeringcontempt crossing his face. 

"Perhaps y'u'll learn some time to attend to your own business, " saidthe man on the couch quietly. 

Hatred gleamed in the narrowed slits from which the soul of the othercousin looked down at him. "I'm a philanthropist, and my business isattending to other people's. They raise sheep, for instance, and Imarket them. "

The girl hastily interrupted. She had not feared for herself, but sheknew fear for the indomitable man she had nursed back to life. "Won'tyou sit down, Mr. Bannister? Since you don't approve our literature, perhaps we can find some other diversion more to your taste. " She smiledfaintly. 

The man turned in smiling divination of her purpose, and sat down toplay with her as a cat does with a mouse. 

"Thank y'u, Miss Messiter, I believe I will. I called to thank y'u foryour kindness to my cousin as well as to inquire about you. The wordgoes that y'u pulled my dear cousin back when death was reaching mightystrong for him. Of course I feel grateful to y'u. How is he gettingalong now?"

"He's doing very well, I think. "

"That's ce'tainly good hearing, " was his ironical response. "How come heto get hurt, did y'u say?"

His sleek smile was a thing hateful to see. 

"A hound bit me, " explained the sheepman. 

"Y'u don't say! I reckon y'u oughtn't to have got in its way. Did y'ukill it?"

"Not yet. "

"That was surely a mistake, for it's liable to bite again. "

The girl felt a sudden sickness at his honeyed cruelty, but immediatelypulled herself together. For whatever fiendish intention might be in hismind she meant to frustrate it. 

"I hear you are of a musical turn, Mr. Bannister. Won't you play forus?"

She had by chance found his weak spot. Instantly his eyes lit up. Hestepped across to the piano and began to look over the music, though notso intently that he forgot to keep under his eye the man on the lounge. 

"H'm! Mozart, Grieg, Chopin, Raff, Beethoven. Y'u ce'tainly have themusic here; I wonder if y'u have the musician. " He looked her over witha bold, unscrupulous gaze. "It's an old trick to have classical music onthe rack and ragtime in your soul. Can y'u play these?"

"You will have to be the judge of that, " she said. 

He selected two of Grieg's songs and invited her to the piano. He knewinstantly that the Norwegian's delicate fancy and lyrical feeling hadfound in her no inadequate medium of expression. The peculiar emotionalquality of the song "I Love Thee" seemed to fill the room as she played. When she swung round on the stool at its conclusion it was to meet ashining-eyed, musical enthusiast instead of the villain she had leftfive minutes earlier. 

"Y'u CAN play, " was all he said, but the manner of it spoke volumes. 

For nearly an hour he kept her at the piano, and when at last he let herstop playing he seemed a man transformed. 

"You have given me a great pleasure, a very great pleasure, MissMessiter, " he thanked her warmly, his Western idiom sloughed with hisvillainy for the moment. "It has been a good many months since I haveheard any decent music. With your permission I shall come again. "

Her hesitation was imperceptible. "Surely, if you wish. " She felt itwould be worse than idle to deny the permission she might not be able torefuse. 

With perfect grace he bowed, and as he wheeled away met with a littleshock of remembrance the gaze of his cousin. For a long moment theireyes bored into each other. Neither yielded the beat of an eyelid, butit was the outlaw that spoke. 

"I had forgotten y'u. That's strange, too because it was for y'u I came. I'm going to take y'u home with me. 

"Alive or dead?" asked the other serenely. 

"Alive, dear Ned. "

"Same old traits cropping out again. There was always something felineabout y'u. I remember when y'u were a boy y'u liked to torment wildanimals y'u had trapped. "

"I play with larger game now--and find it more interesting. "

"Just so. Miss Messiter, I shall have to borrow a pony from y'u, unless--" He broke off and turned indifferently to the bandit. 

"Yes, I brought a hawss along with me for y'u, " replied the other to theunvoiced question. "I thought maybe y'u might want to ride with us. "

"But he can't ride. He couldn't possibly. It would kill him, " the girlbroke out. 

"I reckon not. " The man from the Shoshones glanced at his victim as hedrew on his gauntlets. "He's a heap tougher than y'u think. "

"But it will. If he should ride now, why--It would be the same asmurder, " she gasped. "You wouldn't make him ride now?"

"Didn't y'u hear him order his hawss, ma'am? He's keen on this ride. Of course he don't have to go unless he wants to. " The man turned hisvillainous smile on his cousin, and the latter interpreted it to meanthat if he preferred, the point of attack might be shifted to the girl. He might go or he might stay. But if he stayed the mistress of the LazyD would have to pay for his decision. 

"No, I'll ride, " he said at once. 

Helen Messiter had missed the meaning of that Marconied message thatflashed between them. She set her jaw with decision. "Well, you'll not. It's perfectly ridiculous. I won't hear of such a thing. "

"Y'u seem right welcome. Hadn't y'u better stay, Ned?" murmured theoutlaw, with smiling eyes that mocked. 

"Of course he had. He couldn't ride a mile--not half a mile. The idea isutterly preposterous. "

The sheepman got to his feet unsteadily. "I'll do famously. "

"I won't have it. Why are you so foolish about going? He said you didn'tneed to go. You can't ride any more than a baby could chop down thatpine in the yard. "

"I'm a heap stronger than y'u think. "

"Yes, you are!" she derided. "It's nothing but obstinacy. Make himstay, " she appealed to the outlaw. 

"Am I my cousin's keeper?" he drawled. "I can advise him to stay, but Ican't make him. "

"Well, I can. I'm his nurse, and I say he sha'n't stir a foot out ofthis house--not a foot. "

The wounded man smiled quietly, admiring the splendid energy of her. "I'm right sorry to leave y'u so unceremoniously. "

"You're not going. " She wheeled on the outlaw "I don't understand thisat all. But if you want him you can find him here when you come again. Put him on parole and leave him here. I'll not be a party to murder byletting him go. "

"Y'u think I'm going to murder him?" he smiled. 

"I think he cannot stand the riding. It would kill him. "

"A haidstrong man is bound to have his way. He seems hell-bent onriding. All the docs say the outside of a hawss is good for the insideof a man. Mebbe it'll be the making of him. "

"I won't have it. I'll rouse the whole countryside against you. Whydon't you parole him till he is better?"

"All right. We'll leave it that way, " announced the man. "I'd hate tohurt your tender feelings after such a pleasant evening. Let him givehis parole to come to me whenever I send for him, no matter where hemay be, to quit whatever he is doing right that instant, and come on thejump. If he wants to leave it that way, we'll call it a bargain. "

Again the rapier-thrust of their eyes crossed. The sheepman wassatisfied with what he saw in the face of his foe. 

"All right. It's a deal, " he agreed, and sank weakly back to the couch. 

There are men whose looks are a profanation to any good woman. NedBannister, of the Shoshones, was one of them. He looked at his cousin, and his ribald eyes coasted back to bold scrutiny of this young woman'scharming, buoyant youth. There was Something in his face that sent aflush of shame coursing through her rich blood. No man had ever lookedat her like that before. 

"Take awful good care of him, " he sneered, with so plain an implicationof evil that her clean blood boiled. "But I know y'u will, and don't lethim go before he's real strong. "

"No, " she murmured, hating herself for the flush that bathed her. 

He bowed like a Chesterfield, and went out with elastic heels, spursclicking. 

Helen turned fiercely on her guest. "Why did you make me insist onyour staying? As if I want you here, as if--" She stopped, choking withanger; presently flamed out, "I hate you, " and ran from the room to hideherself alone with her tears and her shame. 

CHAPTER 14. FOR THE WORLD'S CHAMPIONSHIP

The scene on which Helen Messiter's eyes rested that mellow Fourth ofJuly was vivid enough to have interested a far more jaded mind thanhers. Nowhere outside of Cattleland could it have been duplicated. Wyoming is sparsely populated, but the riders of the plains thinknothing of traveling a hundred miles in the saddle to be present at a"broncobusting" contest. Large delegations, too, had come in by railroadfrom Caspar, Billings, Sheridan, Cheyenne and a score of other points, so that the amphitheatre that looked down on the arena was filled to itscapacity. 

All night the little town had rioted with its guests. Everything waswide open at Gimlet Butte. Saloons were doing a land-office business andgambling-houses coining money. Great piles of gold had passed to and froduring the night at the roulette wheel and the faro table. But with thecoming of day interest had centered on the rough-riding contest for theworld's championship. Saloons and dance halls were deserted, and theuniversal trend of travel had been toward the big grand stands, fromwhich the sport could be best viewed. 

It was afternoon now. The preliminaries had been ridden, and half adozen of the best riders had been chosen by the judges to ride againfor the finals. Helen was wonderfully interested, because in the six whowere to ride again were included the two Bannister cousins, her foreman, McWilliams, the young man "Texas, " whom she had met the day of herarrival at Gimlet Butte, and Tom Sanford, who had last year won thechampionship. 

She looked down on the arena, and her heart throbbed with the purejoy of life. Already she loved her West and its picturesque, chap-cladpopulation. Their jingling spurs and their colored kerchiefs knottedround sunburned necks, their frank, whole-hearted abandon to theinterest of the moment, led her to regard these youths as schoolboys. Yet they were a hard-bitten lot, as one could see, burned to a brick-redby the untempered sun of the Rockies; with muscles knit like steel, and hearts toughened to endure any blizzard they might meet. Only thehumorous wrinkles about the corners of their eyes gave them away for thecheerful sons of mirth that they were. 

"Bob Austin on Two-Step, " announced the megaphone man, and a little stireddied through the group gathered at the lane between the arena and thecorral. 

A meek-looking buckskin was driven into the arena. The embodiment oflistlessness, it apparently had not ambition enough to flick a fly fromits flank with its tail. Suddenly the bronco's ears pricked, its sharpeyes dilated. A man was riding forward, the loop of a lariat circlingabout his head. The rope fell true, but the wily pony side-stepped, andthe loop slithered to the ground. Again the rope shot forward, droppedover the pony's head and tightened. The roper's mustang braced itsforefeet, and brought the buckskin up short. Another rope swept over itshead. It stood trembling, unable to move without strangling itself. 

A picturesque youth in flannel shirt and chaps came forward, draggingblanket, saddle and bridle. At sight of him the horse gave a spasmodicfling, then trembled again violently. A blind was coaxed over its eyesand the bridle slipped on. Quickly and warily, with deft fingers, theyoung man saddled and cinched. He waved a hand jauntily to the ropers. The lariats were thrown off as the puncher swung to the saddle. For aninstant the buckskin stood bewildered, motionless as a statue. There wasa sudden leap forward high in air, and Bob Austin, alias "Texas, " swunghis sombrero with a joyous whoop. 

"Fan him! Fan him!" screamed the spectators, and the rider's quirt wentup and down like a piston-rod. 

Round and round went Two-Step in a vicious circle, "swapping ends" withdizzying rapidity. Suddenly he went forward as from a catapult, and cameto sudden halt in about five seconds. But Texas's knees still clung, viselike, to the sides of the pony. A series of quick bucks followed, the buckskin coming down with back humped, all four legs stiff as ironposts. The jar on the rider would have been like a pile-driver fallingon his head had he not let himself grow limp. The buckskin plungedforward again in frenzied leaps, ending in an unexpected jump to oneside. Alas for Texas! One moment he was jubilantly plying quirt andspurs, the next he found himself pitching sideways. To save himself hecaught at the saddle-horn. 

"He's hunting leather, " shouted a hundred voices. 

One of the judges rode out and waved a hand. Texas slipped to the grounddisqualified, and made his dejected way back to his deriding comrades. Some of them had endured similar misfortunes earlier in the day. Therefore they found much pleasure in condoling with him. 

"If he'd only recollected to saw off the horn of his saddle, thenhe couldn't 'a' found it when he went to hunt leather, " mournfullycommented one puncher in a shirt of robin's egg blue. 

"'Twould have been most as good as to take the dust, wouldn't it?"retorted Texas gently, and the laugh was on the gentleman in blue, because he had been thrown earlier in the day. 

"A fellow's hands sure get in his way sometimes. I reckon if you'd tiedyour hands, Tex, you'd been riding that rocking-hawss yet, " suggestedDenver amiably. 

"Sometimes it's his foot he puts in it. There was onct a gentdisqualified for riding on his spurs, " said Texas reminiscently. 

At which hit Denver retired, for not three hours before he had beendetected digging his spurs into the cinch to help him stick to thesaddle. 

"Jim McWilliams will ride Dead Easy, " came the announcement through themegaphone, and a burst of cheering passed along the grand stand, for thesunny smile of the foreman of the Lazy D made him a general favorite. Helen leaned forward and whispered something gaily to Nora, who sat inthe seat in front of her. The Irish girl laughed and blushed, but whenher mistress looked up it was her turn to feel the mounting color creepinto her cheeks. For Ned Bannister, arrayed in all his riding finery, was making his way along the aisle to her. 

She had not seen him since he had ridden away from the Lazy D ten daysbefore, quite sufficiently recovered from his wounds to take up theroutine of life again. They had parted not the best of friends, for shehad not yet forgiven him for his determination to leave with his cousinon the night that she had been forced to insist on his remaining. He hadput her in a false position, and he had never explained to her why. Norcould she guess the reason--for he was not a man to harvest credit forhimself by explaining his own chivalry. 

Since her heart told her how glad she was he had come to her box to seeher, she greeted him with the coolest little nod in the world. 

"Good morning, Miss Messiter. May I sit beside y'u?" he asked. 

"Oh, certainly!" She swept her skirts aside carelessly and made room forhim. "I thought you were going to ride soon. "

"No, I ride last except for Sanford, the champion. My cousin rides justbefore me. He's entered under the name of Jack Holloway. "

She was thinking that he had no business to be riding, that his woundswere still too fresh, but she did not intend again to show interestenough in his affairs to interfere even by suggestion. Her heart hadbeen in her mouth every moment of the time this morning while he hadbeen tossed hither and thither on the back of his mount. In his deliriumhe had said he loved her. If he did, why should he torture her so? Itwas well enough for sound men to risk their lives, but--

A cheer swelled in the grand stand and died breathlessly away. McWilliams was setting a pace it would take a rare expert to equal. Hewas a trick rider, and all the spectacular feats that appealed to theonlooker were his. While his horse was wildly pitching, he drank abottle of pop and tossed the bottle away. With the reins in his teethhe slipped off his coat and vest, and concluded a splendid exhibition ofskill by riding with his feet out of the stirrups. He had been smoking acigar when he mounted. Except while he had been drinking the pop it hadbeen in his mouth from beginning to end, and, after he had vaulted fromthe pony's back, he deliberately puffed a long smoke-spiral into theair, to show that his cigar was still alight. No previous rider hadearned so spontaneous a burst of applause. "He's ce'tainly a pure whenit comes to riding, " acknowledged Bannister. "I look to see him geteither first or second. "

"Whom do you think is his most dangerous rival?" Helen asked. 

"My cousin is a straight-up rider, too. He's more graceful than Mac, Ithink, but not quite so good on tricks. It will be nip and tuck. "

"How about your cousin's cousin?" she asked, with bold irony. 

"He hopes he won't have to take the dust, " was his laughing answer. 

The next rider suffered defeat irrevocably before he had been thirtyseconds in the saddle. His mount was one of the most cunning of theoutlaw ponies of the Northwest, and it brought him to grief by jamminghis leg hard against the fence. He tried in vain to spur the bronco intothe middle of the arena, but after it drove at a post for the third timeand ground his limb against it, he gave up to the pain and slipped off. 

"That isn't fair, is it?" Helen asked of the young man sitting besideher. 

He shrugged his lean, broad shoulders. "He should have known how to keepthe horse in the open. Mac would never have been caught that way. "

"Jack Holloway on Rocking Horse, " the announcer shouted. 

It took four men and two lariats to subdue this horse to a conditionsufficiently tame to permit of a saddle being slipped on. Even then thiscould not be accomplished without throwing the bronco first. The resultwas that all the spirit was taken out of the animal by the preliminaryordeal, so that when the man from the Shoshone country mounted, hissteed was too jaded to attempt resistance. 

"Thumb him! Thumb him!" the audience cried, referring to the cowboytrick of running the thumbs along a certain place in the shoulder tostir the anger of the bucker. 

But the rider slipped off with disgust. "Give me another horse, " hedemanded, and after a minute's consultation among the judges a secondpony was driven out from the corral. This one proved to be a Tartar. Itwent off in a frenzy of pitching the moment its rider dropped into thesaddle. 

"Y'u'll go a long way before you see better ridin' than his and Mac's. Notice how he gives to its pitching, " said Bannister, as he watched hiscousin's perfect ease in the cyclone of which he was the center. 

"I expect it depends on the kind of a 'hawss, '" she mocked. "He's ridingwell, isn't he?"

"I don't know any that ride better. "

The horse put up a superb fight, trying everything it knew to unseatthis demon clamped to its back. It possessed in combination all theworst vices, was a weaver, a sunfisher and a fence-rower, and neverhad it tried so desperately to maintain its record of never havingbeen ridden. But the outlaw in the saddle was too much for the outlawunderneath. He was master, just as he was first among the ruffians whomhe led, because there was in him a red-hot devil of wickedness thatwould brook no rival. 

The furious bronco surrendered without an instant's warning, and itsrider slipped at once to the ground. As he sauntered through the dusttoward the grand stand, Helen could not fail to see how his vanitysunned itself in the applause that met his performance. His equipmentwas perfect to the least detail. The reflection from a lady'slooking-glass was no brighter than the silver spurs he jingled on hissprightly heels. Strikingly handsome in a dark, sinister way, one wouldsay at first sight, and later would chafe at the justice of a verdictnot to be denied. 

Ned Bannister rose from his seat beside Helen. "Wish me luck, " he said, with his gay smile. 

"I wish you all the luck you deserve, " she answered. 

"Oh, wish me more than that if y'u want me to win. "

"I didn't say I wanted you to win. You take the most unaccountablethings for granted. "

"I've a good mind to win, then, just to spite y'u, " he laughed. 

"As if you could, " she mocked; but her voice took a softer intonation asshe called after him in a low murmur: "Be careful, please. "

His white teeth flashed a smile of reassurance at her. "I've never beenkilled yet. "

"Ned Bannister on Steamboat, " sang out the megaphone man. 

"I'm ce'tainly in luck. Steamboat's the worst hawss on the range, " hetold himself, as he strode down the grand stand to enter the arena. 

The announcement of his name created for the second time that day a stirof unusual interest. Everybody in that large audience had heard of NedBannister; knew of his record as a "bad man" and his prowess as the kingof the Shoshone country; suspected him of being a train and bank robberas well as a rustler. That he should have the boldness to enter thecontest in his own name seemed to show how defiant he was of the publicsentiment against him, and how secure he counted himself in flauntingthis contempt. As for the sheepman, the notoriety that his cousin'sodorous reputation had thrust upon him was extremely distasteful as wellas dangerous, but he had done nothing to disgrace his name, and he meantto use it openly. He could almost catch the low whispers that passedfrom mouth to mouth about him. 

"Ain't it a shame that a fellow like that, leader of all the criminalsthat hide in the mountains, can show himself openly before ten thousandhonest folks?" That he knew to be the purport of their whispering, andalong with it went a recital of the crimes he had committed. How hewas a noted "waddy, " or cattle-rustler; how he and his gang had heldup three trains in eighteen months; how he had killed Tom Mooney, BobCarney and several others--these were the sorts of things that werebeing said about him, and from the bottom of his soul he resented hisimpotency to clear his name. 

There was something in Bannister's riding that caught Helen's fancy atonce. It was the unconscious grace of the man, the ease with which heseemed to make himself a very part of the horse. He attempted no tricks, rode without any flourishes. But the perfect poise of his lithe body asit gave with the motions of the horse, proclaimed him a born rider; sofinished, indeed, that his very ease seemed to discount the performance. Steamboat had a malevolent red eye that glared hatred at the oppressorman, and to-day it lived up to its reputation of being the most viciousand untamed animal on the frontier. But, though it did its best tounseat the rider and trample him underfoot, there was no moment when theissue seemed in doubt save once. The horse flung itself backward in asomersault, risking its own neck in order to break its master's. Buthe was equal to the occasion; and when Steamboat staggered again to itsfeet Bannister was still in the saddle. It was a daring and magnificentpiece of horsemanship, and, though he was supposed to be a desperadoand a ruffian, his achievement met with a breathless gasp, followed bythunderous applause. 

The battle between horse and man was on again, for the animal was asstrong almost in courage as the rider. But Steamboat's confidence hadbeen shaken as well as its strength. Its efforts grew less cyclonic. Foam covered its mouth and flecked its sides. The pitches were easy toforesee and meet. Presently they ceased altogether. 

Bannister slid from the saddle and swayed unsteadily across the arena. The emergency past, he had scarce an ounce of force left in him. JimMcWilliams ran out and slipped an arm around his shoulders, regardlessof what his friends might think of him for it. 

"You're all in, old man. Y'u hadn't ought to have ridden, even thoughy'u did skin us all to a finish. "

"Nonsense, Mac. First place goes to y'u or--or Jack Holloway. "

"Not unless the judges are blind. "

But Bannister's prediction proved true. The champion, Sanford, had beentraveling with a Wild West show, and was far too soft to compete withthese lusty cowboys, who had kept hard from their daily life on theplains. Before he had ridden three minutes it was apparent that he stoodno chance of retaining his title, so that the decision narrowed itselfto an issue between the two Bannisters and McWilliams. First place wasawarded to the latter, the second prize to Jack Holloway and the thirdto Ned Bannister. 

But nearly everybody in the grand stand knew that Bannister had beendiscriminated against because of his unpopularity. The judges werenot local men, and had nothing to fear from the outlaw. Therefore theypenalized him on account of his reputation. It would never do forthe Associated Press dispatches to send word all over the East that amurderous desperado was permitted, unmolested, to walk away with thechampionship belt. 

"It ain't a square deal, " declared McWilliams promptly. 

He was sitting beside Nora, and he turned round to express his opinionto the two sitting behind him in the box. 

"We'll not go behind the returns. Y'u won fairly. I congratulatey'u, Mr. Champion-of-the-world, " replied the sheepman, shaking handscordially. 

"I told you to bring that belt to the Lazy D, " smiled his mistress, asshe shook hands. 

But in her heart she was crying out that it was an outrage. 

CHAPTER 15. JUDD MORGAN PASSES

Gimlet Butte devoted the night of the Fourth to a high old time. Theroping and the other sports were to be on the morrow, and meanwhile thenight hours were filled with exuberance. The cowboy's spree comesonly once in several months, but when it does come he enters into theoccasion with such whole-hearted enthusiasm as to make up swiftly forlost time. A traveling midway had cast its tents in a vacant square incompetition with the regular attractions of the town, and everywhere thehard-riding punchers were "night herding" in full regalia. 

There was a big masked ball in the street, and another in the MasonicHall, while here and there flared the lights of the faker with somethingto sell. Among these last was "Soapy" Sothern, doing a thriving businessin selling suckers and bars wrapped with greenbacks. Crowds tramped thestreets blowing horns and throwing confetti, and everywhere was a largesprinkling of men in high-heeled boots, swinging along with the awkward, stiff-legged gait of the cowboy. Sometimes a girl was hanging on hisarm, and again he was "whooping it up with the boys"; but in either casethe range-rider's savings were burning a hole through his pockets withextreme rapidity. 

Jim McWilliams and the sheepman Bannister had that day sealed afriendship that was to be as enduring as life. The owner of the sheepranch was already under heavy obligation to the foreman of the Lazy D, but debt alone is not enough on which to found soul brotherhood. Theremust be qualities of kinship in the primeval elements of character. Bothmen had suspected that this kinship existed, but to-day they had provedit in the way that one had lost and the other had won the covetedchampionship. They had made no vows and no professions. The subject hadnot even been touched in words; a meeting of the eyes, followed by thehandshake with which Bannister had congratulated the winner. That hadbeen all. But it was enough. 

With the casual democracy of the frontier they had together escortedHelen Messiter and Nora Darling through a riotous three hours ofcarnival, taking care to get them back to their hotel before the nightreally began "to howl. "

But after they had left the young women, neither of them cared to sleepyet. They were still in costume, Mac dressed as a monk, and his friendas a Stuart cavalier, and the spirit of frolic was yet strong in them. 

"I expaict, mebbe, we better hunt in couples if we're going to helppaint the town, " smiled Mac, and his friend had immediately agreed. 

It must have been well after midnight that they found themselves"bucking the tiger" in a combination saloon and gambling-house, whosepatrons were decidedly cosmopolitan in character. Here white and redand yellow men played side by side, the Orient and the Occident andthe aboriginal alike intent on the falling cards and the little rollingball. A good many of them were still in their masks and dominos, thoughthese, for the most part, removed their vizors before playing. 

Neither McWilliams nor his friend were betting high, and the luck hadbeen so even that at the end of two hours' play neither of them had atany time either won or lost more than fifteen dollars. In point of fact, they were playing not so much to win as just to keep in touch with thegay, youthful humor of the night. 

They were getting tired of the game when two men jingled in for a drink. They were talking loudly together, and it was impossible to miss thesubject of their conversation. 

McWilliams gave a little jerk of his head toward one of them. "JuddMorgan, " his lips framed without making a sound. 

Bannister nodded. 

"Been tanking up all day, " Mac added. "Otherwise his tongue would not beshooting off so reckless. "

A silence had fallen over the assembly save for the braggarts at thebar. Men looked at each other, and then furtively at Bannister. ForMorgan, ignorant of who was sitting quietly with his back to him at thefaro-table, was venting his hate of Bannister and McWilliams. 

"Both in the same boat. Did y'u see how Mac ran to help him to-day? Bothwaddies. Both rustlers. Both train robbers. Sho! I got through puttinga padlock on me mouth. Man to man, I'm as good as either of them--damnsight better. I wisht they was here, one or both; I wisht they wouldstep up here and fight it out. Bannister's a false alarm, and thatforeman of the Lazy D--" His tongue stumbled over a blur of vilificationthat ended with a foul mention of Miss Messiter. 

Instantly two chairs crashed to the floor. Two pair of gray eyes metquietly. 

"My quarrel, Bann, " said Jim, in a low, even voice. 

The other nodded. "I'll see y'u have a clear field. "

The man who was with Morgan suddenly whispered in his ear, and thelatter slewed his head in startled fear. Almost instantly a bulletclipped past McWilliams's shoulder. Morgan had fired without waitingfor the challenge he felt sure was at hand. Once--twice the foreman'srevolver made answer. Morgan staggered, slipped down to the floor, abullet crashing through the chandelier as he fell. For a moment his bodyjerked. Then he rolled over and lay still. 

The foreman's weapon covered him unwaveringly, but no more steadily thanBannister's gaze the man who had come in with him who lay lifeless onthe floor. The man looked at the lifeless thing, shuddered, and backedout of the saloon. 

"I call y'u all to witness that my friend killed him in self-defense, "said Bannister evenly. "Y'u all saw him fire first. Mac did not evenhave his gun out. "

"That's right, " agreed one, and another added: "He got what was comingto him. "

"He sure did, " was the barkeeper's indorsement. "He came in huntingtrouble, but I reckon he didn't want to be accommodated so prompt. "

"Y'u'll find us at the Gimlet Butte House if we're wanted for this, "said Bannister. "We'll be there till morning. "

But once out of the gambling-house McWilliams drew his friend to oneside. "Do y'u know who that was I killed?"

"Judd Morgan, foreman before y'u at the Lazy D. "

"Yes, but what else?"

"What do y'u mean?"

"I mean that next to your cousin Judd was leader of that Shoshone-Tetonbunch. "

"How do y'u know?"

"I suspected it a long time, but I knew for sure the day that yourcousin held up the ranch. The man that was in charge of the crowdoutside was Morgan. I could swear to it. I knew him soon as I clappedeyes to him, but I was awful careful to forget to tell him I recognizedhim. "

"That means we are in more serious trouble than I had supposed. "

"Y'u bet it does. We're in a hell of a hole, figure it out any wayy'u like. Instead of having shot up a casual idiot, I've killed NedBannister's right-hand man. That will be the excuse--shooting Morgan. But the real trouble is that I won the championship belt from yourcousin. He already hated y'u like poison, and he don't love me any toohard. He will have us arrested by his sheriff here. Catch the point. Y'U'RE NED BANNISTER, THE OUTLAW, AND I'M HIS RIGHT-BOWER. That's theplay he's going to make, and he's going to make it right soon. "

"I don't care if he does. We'll fight him on his own ground. We'll provethat he's the miscreant and not us. "

"Prove nothing, " snarled McWilliams. "Do y'u reckon he'll give us achance to prove a thing? Not on your life. He'll have us jailed firstthing; then he'll stir up a sentiment against us, and before morningthere will be a lynchingbee, and y'u and I will wear the neckties. Howdo y'u like the looks of it?"

"But y'u have a lot of friends. They won't stand for anything likethat. "

"Not if they had time to stop it. Trouble is, fellow's friends thinkawful slow. They'll arrive in time to cut us down and be the mourners. No, sir! It's a hike for Jimmie Mac on the back of the first bronc hecan slap a saddle on. "

Bannister frowned. "I don't like to run before the scurvy scoundrels. "

"Do y'u suppose I'm enjoying it? Not to any extent, I allow. But thatsweet relative of yours holds every ace in the deck, and he'll playthem, too. He owns the law in this man's town, and he owns the lawless. But the best card he holds is that he can get a thousand of the bestpeople here to join him in hanging the 'king' of the Shoshone outlaws. Explanations nothing! Y'u rode under the name of Bannister, didn't y'u?He's Jack Holloway. "

"It does make a strong combination, " admitted the sheepman. 

"Strong! It's invincible. I can see him playing it, laughing up hissleeve all the time at the honest fools he is working. No, sir! I drawout of a game like that. Y'u don't get a run for your money. "

"Of course he knows already what has happened, " mused Bannister. 

"Sure he knows. That fellow with Morgan made a bee-line for him. Justabout now he's routing the sheriff out of his bed. We got no time tolose. Thing is, to burn the wind out of this town while we have thechance. "

"I see. It won't help us any to be spilling lead into a sheriff's posse. That would ce'tainly put us in the wrong. "

"Now y'u're shouting. If we're honest men why don't we surrenderpeaceable? That's the play the 'king' is going to make in this town. Nowif we should spoil a posse and bump off one or two of them, we couldn'tpile up evidence enough to get a jury to acquit. No, sir! We can'tsurrender and we can't fight. Consequence is, we got to roll our tailsimmediate. "

"We have an appointment with Miss Messiter and Nora for to-morrowmorning. We'll have to leave word we can't keep it. "

"Sure. Denver and Missou are playing the wheel down at the SilverDollar. I reckon we better make those boys jump and run errands for uswhile we lie low. I'll drop in casual and give them the word. Meet y'uhere in ten minutes. Whatever y'u do, keep that mask on your face. "

"Better meet farther from the scene of trouble. Suppose we say the northgate of the grand stand?"

"Good enough. So-long. "

The first faint streaks of day were beginning to show on the horizonwhen Bannister reached the grand stand. He knew that inside of anotherhalf-hour the little frontier town would be blinking in the earlymorning sunlight that falls so brilliantly through the limpidatmosphere. If they were going to leave without fighting their way outthere was no time to lose. 

Ten minutes slowly ticked away. 

He glanced at his watch. "Five minutes after four. I wish I had gonewith Mac. He may have been recognized. "

But even as the thought flitted through his mind, the semi-darknessopened to let a figure out of it. 

"All quiet along the Potomac, seh?" asked the foreman's blithe voice. "Good. I found the boys and got them started. " He flung down a Mexicanvaquero's gaily trimmed costume. 

"Get into these, seh. Denver shucked them for me. That coyote must havenoticed what we wore before he slid out. Y'u can bet the orders are towatch for us as we were dressed then. "

"What are y u going to do?"

"Me? I'm scheduled to be Aaron Burr, seh. Missou swaps with me when hegets back here. They're going to rustle us some white men's clothes, too, but we cayn't wear them till we get out of town on account ofshowing our handsome faces. "

"What about horses?"

"Denver is rustling some for us. Y'u better be scribbling your billy-dooto the girl y'u leave behind y'u, seh. "

"Haven't y'u got one to scribble?" Bannister retorted. "Seems to me y'ubetter get busy, too. "

So it happened that when Missou arrived a few minutes later he foundthis pair of gentlemen, who were about to flee for their lives, busilyinditing what McWilliams had termed facetiously billets-doux. Eachof them was trying to make his letter a little warmer than friendshipallowed without committing himself to any chance of a rebuff. Mac got asfar as Nora Darling, absentmindedly inserted a comma between the words, and there stuck hopelessly. He looked enviously across at Bannister, whose pencil was traveling rapidly down his note-book. 

"My, what a swift trail your pencil leaves on that paper. That's goingsome. Mine's bogged down before it got started. I wisht y'u would startme off. "

"Well, if you ain't up and started a business college already. I hadought to have brought a typewriter along with me, " murmured Missouironically. 

"How are things stacking? Our friends the enemy getting busy yet?" askedBannister, folding and addressing his note. 

"That's what. Orders gone out to guard every road so as not to let youpass. What's the matter with me rustling up the boys and us holding downa corner of this town ourselves?"

The sheepman shook his head. "We're not going to start a little privatewar of our own. We couldn't do that without spilling a lot of blood. No, we'll make a run for it. "

"That y'u, Denver?" the foreman called softly, as the sound ofapproaching horses reached him. 

"Bet your life. Got your own broncs, too. Sheriff Burns called upDaniels not to let any horses go out from his corral to anybody withouthis O. K. I happened to be cinching at the time the 'phone messagecame, so I concluded that order wasn't for me, and lit out kinderunceremonious. "

Hastily the fugitives donned the new costumes and dominos, turned theirnotes over to Denver, and swung to their saddles. 

"Good luck!" the punchers called after them, and Denver added anironical promise that the foreman had no doubt he would keep. "I'll lookout for Nora--Darling. " There was a drawling pause between the first andsecond names. "I'll ce'tainly see that she don't have any time to worryabout y'u, Mac. "

"Y'u go to Halifax, " returned Mac genially over his shoulder as he lopedaway. 

"I doubt if we can get out by the roads. Soon as we reach the end of thestreet we better cut across that hayfield, " suggested Ned. 

"That's whatever. Then we'll slip past the sentries without being seen. I'd hate to spoil any of them if we can help it. We're liable to getourselves disliked if our guns spatter too much. "

They rode through the main street, still noisy with the shouts of laterevelers returning to their quarters. Masked men were yet in evidenceoccasionally, so that their habits caused neither remark nor suspicion. A good many of the punchers, unable to stay longer, were slipping outof town after having made a night of it. In the general exodus the twofriends hoped to escape unobserved. 

They dropped into a side street, galloped down it for two hundred yards, and dismounted at a barb-wire fence which ran parallel with the road. The foreman's wire-clippers severed the strands one by one, and they ledtheir horses through the gap. They crossed an alfalfa-field, jumped anirrigation ditch, used the clippers again, and found themselves in alarge pasture. It was getting lighter every moment, and while theywere still in the pasture a voice hailed them from the road in anunmistakable command to halt. 

They bent low over the backs of their ponies and gave them the spur. Theshot they had expected rang out, passing harmlessly over them. Anotherfollowed, and still another. 

"That's right. Shoot up the scenery. Y'u don't hurt us none, " theforeman said, apostrophizing the man behind the gun. 

The next clipped fence brought them to the open country. For half anhour they rode swiftly without halt. Then McWilliams drew up. 

"Where are we making for?"

"How about the Wind River country?"

"Won't do. First off, they'll strike right down that way after us. What's the matter with running up Sweetwater Creek and lying out in thebad lands around the Roubideaux?"

"Good. I have a sheep-camp up that way. I can arrange to have grub sentthere for us by a man I can trust. "

"All right. The Roubideaux goes. "

While they were nooning at a cow-spring, Bannister, lying on his back, with his face to the turquoise sky, became aware that a vagrant impulsehad crystallized to a fixed determination. He broached it at once to hiscompanion. 

"One thing is a cinch, Mac. Neither y'u nor I will be safe in thiscountry now until we have broken up the gang of desperadoes that isterrorizing this country. If we don't get them they will get us. Thereisn't any doubt about that. I'm not willing to lie down before thesemiscreants. What do y'u say?"

"I'm with y'u, old man. But put a name to it. What are y'u proposing?"

"I'm proposing that y'u and I make it our business not to have any otherbusiness until we clean out this nest of wolves. Let's go right afterthem, and see if we can't wipe out the Shoshone-Teton outfit. "

"How? They own the law, don't they?"

"They don't own the United States Government. When they held up amail-train they did a fool thing, for they bucked up against UncleSam. What I propose is that we get hold of one of the gang and make himweaken. Then, after we have got hold of some evidence that will convict, we'll go out and run down my namesake Ned Bannister. If people once getthe idea that his hold isn't so strong there's a hundred people thatwill testify against him. We'll have him in a Government prison insideof six months. "

"Or else he'll have us in a hole in the ground, " added the foreman, dryly. 

"One or the other, " admitted Bannister. "Are y'u in on this thing?"

"I surely am. Y'u're the best man I've met up with in a month ofSundays, seh. Y'u ain't got but one fault; and that is y'u don't smokecigareets. Feed yourself about a dozen a day and y'u won't have a blamedtrouble left. Match, seh?" The foreman of the Lazy D, already followinghis own advice, rolled deftly his smoke, moistened it and proceeded toblow away his troubles. 

Bannister looked at his debonair insouciance and laughed. "Water off aduck's back, " he quoted. "I know some folks that would be sweating fearright now. It's ce'tainly an aggravating situation, that of being anhonest man hunted as a villain by a villain. But I expaict my cousin'senjoying it. "

"He ain't enjoying it so much as he would if his plans had worked out alittle smoother. He's holding the sack right now and cussing right smahtover it being empty, I reckon. "

"He did lock the stable door a little too late, " chuckled the sheepman. But even as he spoke a shadow fell over his face. "My God! I hadforgotten. Y'u don't suppose he would take it out of Miss Messiter. "

"Not unless he's tired of living, " returned her foreman, darkly. "Onething, this country won't stand for is that. He's got to keep his handsoff women or he loses out. He dassent lay a hand on them if they don'twant him to. That's the law of the plains, isn't it?"

"That's the unwritten law for the bad man, but I notice it doesn't seemto satisfy y'u, my friend. Y'u and I know that my cousin, Ned Bannister, doesn't acknowledge any law, written or unwritten. He's a devil and hehas no fear. Didn't he kidnap her before?"

"He surely would never dare touch those young ladies. But--I don't know. Bann, I guess we better roll along toward the Lazy D country, afterall. "

"I think so. " Ned looked at his friend with smiling drollery. "I thoughty'u smoked your troubles away, Jim. This one seems to worry y'u. "

McWilliams grinned sheepishly. "There's one trouble won't be smokedaway. It kinder dwells. " Then, apparently apropos of nothing, he added, irrelevantly: "Wonder what Denver's doing right now?"

"Probably keeping that appointment y'u ran away from, " bantered hisfriend. 

"I'll bet he is. Funny how some men have all the luck, " murmured thedespondent foreman. 

CHAPTER 16. HUNTING BIG GAME

In point of fact, Denver's occupation at that moment was precisely whatthey had guessed it to be. He was sitting beside Nora Darling in thegrand stand, explaining to her the fine points of "roping. " Mr. BobAustin, commonly known as "Texas, " was meanwhile trying to make himselfagreeable to Helen Messiter. Truth to tell, both young women listenedwith divided interest to their admirers. Both of them had heard thestory of the night, and each of them had tucked away in her corsage ascribbled note she wanted to get back to her room and read again. Thatthe pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the inside wereaware that the "King, " masquerading under the name of Jack Holloway, wasthe active power behind the sheriff stimulating the chase. 

It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called away totake his turn, that the outlaw chief sauntered along the aisle of thegrand stand to the box in which was seated the mistress of the Lazy D. 

"Beautiful mo'ning, isn't it? Delightfully crisp and clear, " he said byway of introduction, stopping at her box. 

She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine courage roseto meet it. There was a daring light in her eye, a buoyant challenge inher voice as she answered:

"It is a splendid morning. I'm not surprised you are enjoying it. "

"Did I say I was enjoying it?" He laughed as he lifted the bar, cameinto her box and took a seat. 

"Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in mourningfor a deceased friend. "

His dark eyes flashed. "I'll not mourn for him long. He was a mightytrifling fellow, anyhow. Soon as I catch and hang his murderers I'llquit wearing black. "

"You may wear out several suits before then, " she hit back. 

"Don't y'u believe it; when I want a thing I don't quit till it's done. "

She met his gaze, and the impact of eyes seemed to shock her physically. The wickedness in him threatened, gloated, dominated. She shivered inthe warm sunlight, and would not have had him know it for worlds. 

"Dear me! How confident you talk. Aren't you sometimes disappointed?"

"Temporarily. But when I want a thing I take it in the end. "

She knew he was serving notice on her that he meant to win her; andagain the little spinal shiver raced over her. She could not look at hissardonic, evil face without fear, and she could not look away withoutbeing aware of his eyes possessing her. What was the use of courageagainst such a creature as this?

"Yes, I understand you take a good deal that isn't yours, " she retortedcarelessly, her eyes on the arena. 

"I make it mine when I take it, " he answered coolly, admiring thegameness which she wore as a suit of chain armor against his thrusts. 

"Isn't it a little dangerous sometimes?" her even voice countered. "Whenyou take what belongs to others you run a risk, don't you?"

"That's part of the rules. Except for that I shouldn't like it so well. I hunt big game, and the bigger the game the more risk. That's why y'uguessed right when y'u said I was enjoying the mo'ning. "

"Meaning--your cousin?"

"Well, no. I wasn't thinking of him, though he's some sizable. But I'mhunting bigger game than he is, and I expect to bag it. "

She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. "I might pretend tomisunderstand you. But I won't. You may have your answer now. I am notafraid of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw arattlesnake last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I haveseen. I'll leave you to guess who. "

Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of hisface. He leaned forward till his beady eyes were close to her defiantones. "Y'u have forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake cansting. I ask nothing of you. Can't I break your heart without yourloving me? You're only a woman--and not the first I have broken, byGod--"

His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, andleft them to all intents alone. At a touch of her fingers the handbag inher lap flew open and a little ivory-hilted revolver lay in her hand. 

"You may break me, but you'll never bend me an inch. "

He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. "Sho! If y'u shouldhit me with that and I should find it out I might get mad at y'u. "

"Did I say it was for you?" she said coldly; and again the shock ofjoined eyes ended in drawn battle. 

"Have y'u the nerve?" He looked her over, so dainty and so resolute, sosilken strong; and he knew he had his answer. 

His smoldering eyes burned with desire to snatch her to him and rideaway into the hills. For he was a man who lived in his sensations. Hehad won many women to their hurt, but it was the joy of conflict thatmade the pursuit worth while to him; and this young woman, who could sodelightfully bubble with little laughs ready to spill over and was yetpossessed of a spirit so finely superior to the tenderness of her soft, round, maidenly curves, allured him mightily to the attack. 

She dropped the revolver back into the bag and shut the clasp with aclick, "And now I think, Mr. Bannister, that I'll not detain you anylonger. We understand each other sufficiently. "

He rose with a laugh that mocked. "I expaict to spend quite a bit oftime understanding y'u one of these days. In the meantime this is to ourbetter acquaintance. "

Deliberately, without the least haste, he stooped and kissed her beforeshe could rally from the staggering surprise of the intention she readin his eyes too late to elude. Then, with the coolest bravado in theworld, he turned on his heel and strolled away. 

Angry sapphires gleamed at him from under the long, brown lashes. Shewas furious, aghast, daunted. By the merest chance she was sitting in acorner of the box, so screened from observation that none could see. Butthe insolence of him, the reckless defiance of all standards of society, shook her even while it enraged her. He had put forth his claim likea braggart, but he had made good with an audacity superb in itseffrontery. How she hated him! How she feared him! The thoughts werewoven inseparably in her mind. Mephisto himself could not have impressedhimself more imperatively than this strutting, heartless master artistin vice. 

She saw him again presently down in the arena, for it was his turn toshow his skill at roping. Texas had done well; very well, indeed. He hadmade the throw and tie in thirty-seven seconds, which was two secondsfaster than the record of the previous year. But she knew instinctively, as her fascinated eyes watched the outlaw preparing for the feat, thathe was going to win. He would use his success as a weapon againsther; as a means of showing her that he always succeeded in whatever heundertook. So she interpreted he look he flung her as he waited at thechute for the wild hill steer to be driven into the arena. It takes agood man physically to make a successful roper. He must be possessedof nerve, skill and endurance far out of the ordinary. He must bequick-eyed, strong-handed, nimble of foot, expert of hand and built likea wildcat. So Denver explained to the two young women in the box, andthe one behind him admitted reluctantly that she long, lean, suppleCentaur waiting impassively at the gateway fitted the specifications. 

Out flashed the rough-coated hill steer, wild and fleet as a hare, thin and leggy, with muscles of whipcord. Down went the flag, and thestopwatches began to tick off the seconds. Like an arrow the outlaw'spony shot forward, a lariat circling round and round the rider's head. At every leap the cow pony lessened the gap as it pounded forward on theheels of the flying steer. 

The loop swept forward and dropped over the horns of the animal. Thepony, with the perfect craft of long practice, swerved to one side witha rush. The dragging rope swung up against the running steer's legs, grew suddenly taut. Down went the steer's head, and next moment its feetwere swept from under it as it went heavily to the ground. Man and horsewere perfect in their team work. As the supple rider slid from the backof the pony it ran to the end of the rope and braced itself to keep theanimal from rising. Bannister leaped on the steer, tie-rope in hand. Swiftly his deft hands passed to and fro, making the necessary loops andknots. Then his hands went into the air. The steer was hog-tied. 

For a few seconds the judges consulted together. "Twenty-nine seconds, "announced their spokesman, and at the words a great cheer went up. Bannister had made his tie in record time. 

Impudently the scoundrel sauntered up to the grand stand, bowedelaborately to Miss Messiter, and perched himself on the fence, where hemight be the observed of all observers. It was curious, she thought, how his vanity walked hand in hand with so much power and force. He wasreally extraordinarily strong, but no debutante's self-sufficiency couldhave excelled his. He was so frankly an egotist that it ceased to be aweakness. 

Back in her room at the hotel an hour later Helen paced up and downunder a nervous strain foreign to her temperament. She was afraid; forthe first time in her life definitely afraid. This man pitted againsther had deliberately divorced his life from morality. In him lay noappeal to any conscience court of last resort. But the terror of thiswas not for herself principally, but for her flying lover. With hisindubitable power, backed by the unpopularity of the sheepman in thiscattle country, the King of the Bighorn could destroy his cousin ifhe set himself to do so. Of this she was convinced, and her convictioncarried a certainty that he had the will as well as the means. If hehad lacked anything in motive she herself had supplied one. For she wasafraid that this villain had read her heart. 

And as her hand went fluttering to her heart she found small comfortin the paper lying next it that only a few hours before had brought herjoy. For at any moment a messenger might come in to tell her that thewriter of it had been captured and was to be dealt with summarily infrontier fashion. At best her lover and her friend were but fugitivesfrom justice. Against them were arrayed not only the ruffian followersof their enemy, but also the lawfully constituted authorities of thecounty. Even if they should escape to-day the net would tighten on them, and they would eventually be captured. 

For the third time since coming to Wyoming Helen found refuge in tears. 

CHAPTER 17. RUN TO EARTH

When word came to Denver and the other punchers of the Lazy D that Reddyhad been pressed into service as a guide for the posse that was pursuingthe fugitives they gave vent to their feelings in choice profanity. 

"Now, ain't that like him? Had to run around like a locoed calf tellingall he knowed and more till Burns ropes him in, " commented the disgustedMissou. 

"Trouble with Reddy is he sets his mouth to working and then goes awayand leaves it, " mourned Jim Henson. 

"I'd hate to feel as sore as Reddy will when the boys get throughplaying with him after he gets back to the ranch, " Denver contributed, when he had exhausted his vocabulary. 

Meanwhile Reddy, unaware of being a cause of offense, was cheerfullyhappy in the unexpected honor that had been thrust upon him. His willwas of putty, molded into the opinion of whomever he happened at themoment to be with. Just now, with the ironic eye of Sheriff Burns uponhim, he was strong for law enforcement. 

"A feller hadn't ought to be so promiscuous with his hardware. Thishere thing of shooting up citizens don't do Wyoming no good these days. Capital ain't a-going to come in when such goings-on occur, " he sagelyopined, unconsciously parroting the sentiment Burns had just beeninstilling into him. 

"That's right, sir. If that ain't horse sense I don't know any. You gota head on you, all right, " answered the admiring sheriff. 

The flattered Reddy pleaded guilty to being wiser than most men. "Jestbecause I punch cows ain't any reason why I'm anybody's fool. I'll showthem smart boys at the Lazy D I don't have to take the dust of any ofthe bunch when it comes to using my think tank. "

"I would, " sympathized Burns. "You bet they'll all be almighty jealouswhen they learn how you was chosen out of the whole outfit on this job. "

All day they rode, and that night camped a few miles from the Lazy D. Early next morning they hailed a solitary rider as he passed. The manturned out to be a cowman, with a small ranch not far from the one ownedby Miss Messiter. 

"Hello, Henderson! y'u seen anything of Jim McWilliams and anotherfellow riding acrost this way?" asked Reddy. 

"Nope, " answered the cowman promptly. But immediately he modified hisstatement to add that he had seen two men riding toward Dry Creek acouple of hours ago. "They was going kinder slow. Looked to me sorterlike one of them was hurt and the other was helping him out, " hevolunteered. 

The sheriff looked significantly at one of his men and nodded. 

"You didn't recognize the horses, I reckon?"

"Come to think of it, one of the ponies did look like Jim's roan. What'sup, boys? Anything doing?"

"Nothing particular. We want to see Jim, that's all. So long. "

What Henderson had guessed was the truth. The continuous hard riding hadbeen too much for Bannister and his wound had opened anew. They were atthe time only a few miles from a shack on Dry Creek, where the Lazy Dpunchers sometimes put up. McWilliams had attended the wound as besthe could, and after a few hours' rest had headed for the cabin in thehills. They were compelled to travel very slowly, since the motion keptthe sheepman's wound continually bleeding. But about noon they reachedthe refuge they had been seeking and Bannister lay down on the bunkwith their saddle blankets under him. He soon fell asleep, and Mac tookadvantage of this to set out on a foraging expedition to a ranch notfar distant. Here he got some bread, bacon, milk and eggs from a man hecould trust and returned to his friend. 

It was dark by the time he reached the cabin. He dismounted, and withhis arms full of provisions pushed into the hut. 

"Awake, Bann?" he asked in a low voice. 

The answer was unexpected. Something heavy struck his chest and flunghim back against the wall. Before he could recover his balance he waspinioned fast. Four men had hurled themselves upon him. 

"We've got you, Jim. Not a mite o' use resisting, " counseled thesheriff. 

"Think I don't savez that? I can take a hint when a whole Methodistchurch falls on me. Who are y'u, anyhow?"

"Somebody light a lantern, " ordered Burns. 

By the dim light it cast Mac made them out, and saw Ned Bannister gaggedand handcuffed on the bed. He knew a moment of surprise when his eyesfell on Reddy. 

"So it was y'u brought them here, Red?" he said quietly. 

Contrary to his own expectations, the gentleman named was embarrassed"The sheriff, he summoned me to serve, " was his lame defense. 

"And so y'u threw down your friends. Good boy!"

"A man's got to back the law up, ain't he?"

Mac turned his shoulder on him rather pointedly. "There isn't any needof keeping that gag in my friend's mouth any longer, " he suggested toBurns. 

"That's right, too. Take it out, boys. I got to do my duty, but I don'taim to make any gentleman more uncomfortable than I can help. I wanteverything to be pleasant all round. "

"I'm right glad to hear that, Burns, because my friend isn't fit totravel. Y'u can take me back and leave him out here with a guard, " theforeman replied quickly. 

"Sorry I can't accommodate you, Jim, but I got to take y'u both withme. "

"Those are the orders of the King, are they?"

Burns flushed darkly. "It ain't going to do you any good to talk thatway. You know mighty well this here man with you is Bannister. I ain'tgoing to take no chances on losing him now I've got my hand on him. "

"Y'u ce'tainly deserve a re-election, and I'll bet y'u get it all right. Any man so given over to duty, so plumb loaded down to the hocks withconscience as y'u, will surely come back with a big majority nextNovember. "

"I ain't askin' for YOUR vote, Mac. "

"Oh, y'u don't need votes. Just get the King to O. K. Your nominationand y'u'll win in a walk. "

"My friend, y'u better mind your own business. Far as I can make out y'ugot troubles enough of your own, " retorted the nettled sheriff. 

"Y'u don't need to tell me that, Tom Burns' Y'u ain't a man--nothing buta stuffed skin worked by a string. When that miscreant Bannister pullsthe string y'u jump. He's jerked it now, so y'u're taking us back tohim. I can prove that coyote Morgan shot at me first, but that doesn'tcut any ice with you. "

"What made you light out so sudden, then?" demanded the aggrieved Burnstriumphantly. 

"Because I knew you. That's a plenty good reason. I'm not askinganything for myself. All I say is that my friend isn't fit to travelyet. Let him stay here under a guard till he is. "

"He was fit enough to get here. By thunder, he's fit to go back!"

"Y'u've said enough, Mac, " broke in Bannister. "It's awfully good of y'uto speak for me, but I would rather see it out with you to a finish. Idon't want any favors from this yellow dog of my cousin. "

The "yellow dog" set his teeth and swore vindictively behind them. Hewas already imagining an hour when these insolent prisoners of his wouldsing another tune. 

CHAPTER 18. PLAYING FOR TIME

"They've got 'em. Caught them on Dry Creek, just below Green Forks. "

Helen Messiter, just finishing her breakfast at the hotel preparatory toleaving in her machine for the ranch, laid down her knife and fork andlooked with dilated eyes at Denver, who had broken in with the news. 

"Are you sure?" The color had washed from her face and left her verywhite, but she fronted the situation quietly without hysterics or fussof any kind. 

"Yes, ma'am. They're bringing them in now to jail. Watch out and y'u'llsee them pass here in a few minutes. Seems that Bannister's wound openedup on him and he couldn't go any farther. Course Mac wouldn't leavehim. Sheriff Burns and his posse dropped in on them and had them coveredbefore Mac could chirp. "

"You are sure this man--this desperado Bannister--will do nothing tillnight?"

"Not the way I figure it. He'll have the jail watched all day. But he'sgot to work the town up to a lynching. I expect the bars will be freefor all to-day. By night the worst part of this town will be ready foranything. The rest of the citizens are going to sit down and do nothingjust because it is Bannister. "

"But it isn't Bannister--not the Bannister they think it is. "

He shook his head. "No use, ma'am. I've talked till my throat aches, butit don't do a mite of good. Nobody believes a word of what I say. Y'usee, we ain't got any proof. "

"Proof! We have enough, God knows! didn't this villain--this outlaw thatcalls himself Jack Holloway--attack and try to murder him?"

"That's what we believe, but the report out is that one of us punchersshot him up for crossing the dead-line. "

"Didn't this fellow hold up the ranch and try to take Ned Bannister awaywith him?"

"Yes, ma'am. But that doesn't look good to most people. They say he hadhis friends come to take him away so y'u wouldn't hold him and let usboys get him. This cousin business is a fairy tale the way they size itup. How come this cousin to let him go if he held up the ranch to putthe sick man out of business? No, miss. This country has made up itsmind that your friend is the original Ned Bannister. My opinion is thatnothing on earth can save him. "

"I don't want your opinion. I'm going to save him, I tell you; and youare going to help. Are his friends nothing but a bunch of quitters?" shecried, with sparkling eyes. 

"I didn't know I was such a great friend of his, " answered the cowboysulkily. 

"You're a friend of Jim McWilliams, aren't you? Are you going to sneakaway and let these curs hang him?"

Denver flushed. "Y'u're dead right, Miss Helen. I guess I'll see it outwith you. What's the orders?"

"I want you to help me organize a defense. Get all Mac's friends stirredup to make a fight for him. Bring as many of them in to see me duringthe day as you can. If you see any of the rest of the Lazy D boys sendthem in to me for instructions. Report yourself every hour to me. Andmake sure that at least three of your friends that you can trust arehanging round the jail all day so as to be ready in case any attempt ismade to storm it before dark. "

"I'll see to it. " Denver hung on his heel a moment before leaving. "It'sonly square to tell y'u, Miss Helen, that this means war here tonight. These streets are going to run with blood if we try to save them. "

"I'm taking that responsibility, " she told him curtly; but a momentlater she added gently: "I have a plan, my friend, that may stop thisoutrage yet. But you must do your best for me. " She smiled sadly at him. "You're my foreman, to-day, you know. "

"I'm going to do my level best, y'u may tie to that, " he told herearnestly. 

"I know you will. " And their fingers touched for an instant. 

Through a window the girl could see a crowd pouring down the streettoward the hotel. She flew up the stairs and out upon the second-storypiazza that looked down upon the road. 

From her point of vantage she easily picked them out--the two unarmedmen riding with their hands tied behind their backs, encircled by adozen riders armed to the teeth. Bannister's hat had apparently fallenoff farther down the street, for the man beside him was dusting it. Thewounded prisoner looked about him without fear, but it was plain he wasnear the limit of endurance. He was pale as a sheet, and his fair curlsclung moistly to his damp forehead. 

McWilliams caught sight of her first, and she could see him turn andsay a word to his comrade. Bannister looked up, caught sight of her, andsmiled. That smile, so pale and wan, went to her heart like a knife. Butthe message of her eyes was hope. They told the prisoners silently to beof good cheer, that at least they were not deserted to their fate. 

"What is it about--the crowd?" Nora asked of her mistress as the latterwas returning to the head of the stairs. 

In as few words as she could Helen told her, repressing sharply thetears the girl began to shed. "This is not the time to weep--not yet. We must save them. You can do your part. Mr. Bannister is wounded. Geta doctor over the telephone and see that he attends him at the prison. Don't leave the 'phone until you have got one to promise to goimmediately. "

"Yes, miss. Is there anything else?"

"Ask the doctor to call you up from the prison and tell you how Mr. Bannister is. Make it plain to him that he is to give up his otherpractice, if necessary, and is to keep us informed through the day abouthis patient's condition. I will be responsible for his bill. "

Helen herself hurried to the telegraph office at the depot. She wroteout a long dispatch and handed it to the operator. "Send this at onceplease. "

He was one of those supercilious young idiots that make the most of suchsmall power as ever drifts down to them. Taking the message, he tossedit on the table. "I'll send it when I get time. "

"You'll send it now. "

"What--what's that?"

Her steady eyes caught and held his shifting ones. "I say you are goingto send it now--this very minute. "

"I guess not. The line's busy, " he bluffed. 

"If you don't begin sending that message this minute I'll make it mybusiness to see that you lose your position, " she told him calmly. 

He snatched up the paper from the place where he had tossed it. "Oh, well, if it's so darned important, " he-conceded ungraciously. 

She stood quietly above him while he sent the telegram, even though hecontrived to make every moment of her stay an unvoiced insult. Herwire was to the wife of the Governor of the State. They had been closefriends at school, and the latter had been urging Helen to pay a visitto Cheyenne. The message she sent was as follows:

Battle imminent between outlaws and cattlemen here. Bloodshed certainto-night. My foreman last night killed in self-defense a desperado. Bannister's gang, in league with town authorities, mean to lynch himand one of my other friends after dark this evening. Sheriff will donothing. Can your husband send soldiers immediately? Wire answer. 

The operator looked up sullenly after his fingers had finished the lasttap. "Well?"

"Just one thing more, " Helen told him. "You understand the rules of thecompany about secrecy. Nobody you knows I am sending this message. If byany chance it should leak out, I shall know through whom. If you want tohold your position, you will keep quiet. "

"I know my business, " he growled. Nevertheless, she had spoken inseason, for he had had it in his mind to give a tip where he knewit would be understood to hasten the jail delivery and accompanyinglynching. 

When she returned to the hotel? Helen found Missou waiting for her. She immediately sent him back to the office, and told him to wait thereuntil the answer was received. "I'll send one of the boys up to relieveyou so that you may come with the telegram as soon as it arrives. Iwant the operator watched all day. Oh, here's Jim Henson! Denver hasexplained the situation to you, I presume. I want you to go up to thetelegraph office and stay there all day. Go to lunch with the operatorwhen he goes. Don't let him talk privately to anybody, not even for afew seconds. I don't want you to seem to have him under guard beforeoutsiders, but let him know it very plainly. He is not to mention a wireI sent or the answer to it--not to anybody, Jim. Is that plain?"

"Y'u bet! He's a clam, all right, till the order is countermanded. " Andthe young man departed with a cheerful grin that assured Helen she hadnothing to fear from official leaks. 

Nora, from answering a telephone call, came to report to the generalin charge. "The doctor says that he has looked after Mr. Bannister, andthere is no immediate danger. If he keeps quiet for a few days he oughtto do well. Mr. McWilliams sent a message by him to say that we aren'tto worry about him. He said he would--would--rope a heap of cows on theLazy D yet. "

Nora, bursting into tears, flung herself into Helen's arms. "They aregoing to kill him. I know they are, and--and 'twas only yesterday, ma'am, I told him not to--to get gay, the poor boy. When he triedto--to--" She broke down and sobbed. 

Her mistress smiled in spite of herself, though she was bitterly awarethat even Nora's grief was only superficially ludicrous. 

"We're going to save him, Nora, if we can. There's hope while there'slife. You see, Mac himself is full of courage. HE hasn't given up. Wemust keep up our courage, too. "

"Yes, ma'am, but this is the first gentleman friend I ever had hanged, and--" She broke off, sobbing, leaving the rest as a guess. 

Helen filled it out aloud. "And you were going to say that you care morefor him than any of the others. Well, you must stop coquetting and tellhim so when we have saved him. "

"Yes, ma'am, " agreed Nora, very repentant for the moment of the factthat it was her nature to play with the hearts of those of themale persuasion. Immediately she added: "He was THAT kind, ma'am, tender-hearted. "

Helen, whose own heart was breaking, continued to soothe her. "Don't sayWAS, child. You are to be brave, and not think of him that way. "

"Yes, ma'am. He told me he was going to buy cows with the thousanddollars he won yesterday. I knew he meant--"

"Yes, of course. It's a cowboy's way of saying that he means to starthousekeeping. Have you the telegram, Missou?" For that young man wasstanding in the doorway. 

He handed her the yellow slip. She ripped open the envelope and read:Company B en route. Railroad connections uncertain Postpone crisis longas possible. May reach Gimlet Butte by ten-thirty. 

Her first thought was of unspeakable relief. The militia was going totake a hand. The boys in khaki would come marching down the street, andeverything would be all right. But hard on the heels of her instinctivegladness trod the sober second thought. Ten-thirty at best, and perhapslater! Would they wait that long, or would they do their cowardly workas soon as night fell She must contrive to delay them till the traindrew in. She must play for those two lives with all her woman's wit;must match the outlaw's sinister cunning and fool him into delay. Sheknew he would come if she sent for him. But how long could she keephim? As long as he was amused at her agony, as long as his pleasure intormenting her was greater than his impatience to be at his ruffianlywork. Oh, if she ever needed all her power it would be to-night. 

Throughout the day she continued to receive hourly reports from Denver, who always brought with him four or five honest cowpunchers fromup-country to listen to the strange tale she unfolded to them. It was, of course, in part, the spell of her sweet personality, of that shyappeal she made to the manhood in them; but of those who came, nearlyall believed, for the time at least, and aligned themselves on her sidein the struggle that was impending. Some of these were swayed from theirallegiance in the course of the day, but a few she knew would remaintrue. 

Meanwhile, all through the day, the enemy was busily at work. As Denverhad predicted, free liquor was served to all who would drink. Thetown and its guests were started on a grand debauch that was to end inviolence that might shock their sober intelligence. Everywhere poisonedwhispers were being flung broadcast against the two men waiting in thejail for what the night would bring forth. 

Dusk fell on a town crazed by bad whiskey and evil report. The deeds ofBannister were hashed and rehashed at every bar, and nobody related themwith more ironic gusto than the man who called himself Jack Holloway. There were people in town who knew his real name and character, but ofthese the majority were either in alliance with him or dared not voicetheir knowledge. Only Miss Messiter and her punchers told the truth, andtheir words were blown away like chaff. 

From the first moment of darkness Helen had the outlaw leader dogged bytwo of her men. Since neither of these were her own riders this wasdone without suspicion. At intervals of every quarter of an hour theyreported to her in turn. Bannister was beginning to drink heavily, andshe did not want to cut short his dissipation by a single minute. Yetshe had to make sure of getting his attention before he went too far. 

It was close to nine when she sent him a note, not daring to delay aminute longer. For the reports of her men were all to the same effect, that the crisis would not now be long postponed. Bannister, or Holloway, as he chose to call himself, was at the bar with his lieutenants in evilwhen the note reached him. He read it with a satisfaction he could notconceal. So! He had brought her already to her knees. Before he wasthrough with her she should grovel in the dust before him. 

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Do nothing till I return, " he ordered, and went jingling away to the Elk House. 

The young woman's anxiety was pitiable, but she repressed it sternlywhen she went to meet the man she feared; and never had it been more inevidence than in this hour of her greatest torture. Blithely she cameforward to meet him, eye challenging eye gayly. No hint of her anguishescaped into her manner. He read there only coquetry, the eternal sexconflict, the winsome defiance of a woman hitherto the virgin mistressof all assaults upon her heart's citadel. It was the last thing he hadexpected to see, but it was infinitely more piquant, more intoxicating, than desperation. She seemed to give the lie to his impression of herlove for his cousin; and that, too, delighted his pride. 

"You will sit down?"

Carelessly, almost indolently, she put the question, her raised eyebrowsindicating a chair with perfunctory hospitality. He had not meant tosit, had expected only to gloat a few minutes over her despair; butthis situation called for more deliberation. He had yet to establish themastery his vanity demanded. Therefore he took a chair. 

"This is ce'tainly an unexpected honor. Did y'u send for me to explainsome more about that sufficient understanding between us?" he sneered. 

It was a great relief to her to see that, though he had been drinking, as she had heard, he was entirely master of himself. Her efforts mightstill be directed to Philip sober. 

"I sent for you to congratulate you, " she answered, with a smile. "Youare a bigger man than I thought. You have done what you said you woulddo, and I presume you can very shortly go out of mourning. "

He radiated vanity, seemed to visibly expand "Do y'u go in when I goout?" he asked brutally. 

She laughed lightly. "Hardly. But it does seem as if I'm unlucky in myforemen. They all seem to have engagements across the divide. "

"I'll get y u another. "

"Thank you. I was going to ask as much of you. Can you suggest one now?"

"I'm a right good cattle man myself. "

"And--can you stay with me a reasonable time?"

He laughed. "I have no engagements across the Styx, ma'am. "

"My other foremen thought they were permanent fixtures here, too. "

"We're all liable to mistakes. "

"Even you, I suppose. "

"I'll sign a lease to give y'u possession of my skill for as long as y'ulike. "

She settled herself comfortably back in an easy chair, as alluring apicture of buoyant, radiant youth as he had seen in many a day. "But theterms. I am afraid I can't offer you as much as you make at your presentoccupation. "

"I could keep that up as a side-line. "

"So you could. But if you use my time for your own profit, you ought topay me a royalty on your intake. "

His eyes lit with laughter. "I reckon that can be arranged. Anypercentage you think fair It will all be in the family, anyway. "

"I think that is one of the things about which we don't agree, " she madeanswer softly, flashing him the proper look of inviting disdain fromunder her silken lashes. 

He leaned forward, elbow on the chair-arm and chin in hand. "We'll agreeabout it one of these days. "

"Think so?" she returned airily. 

"I don't think. I know. "

Just an eyebeat her gaze met his, with that hint of shy questioning, ofpuzzled doubt that showed a growing interest. "I wonder, " she murmured, and recovered herself little laugh. 

How she hated her task, and him! She was a singularly honest woman, butshe must play the siren; must allure this scoundrel to forgetfulness, with a hurried and yet elude the very familiarity her manner invited. She knew her part, the heartless enticing coquette, compounded halfof passion and half of selfishness. It was a hateful thing to do, thissacrifice of her personal reticence, of the individual abstraction inwhich she wrapped herself as a cloak, in order to hint at a possibilityof some intimacy of feeling between them. She shrank from it with arepugnance hardly to be overcome, but she held herself with an iron willand consummate art to the role she had undertaken. Two lives hung onher success. She must not forget that. She would not let herself forgetthat--and one of them that of the man she loved. 

So, bravely she played her part, repelling always with a hint ofinvitation, denying with the promise in her fascinated eyes of ultimatesurrender to his ardor. In the zest of the pursuit the minutes slippedaway unnoticed. Never had a woman seemed to him more subtly elusive, andnever had he felt more sure of himself. Her charm grew on him, stirredhis pulses to a faster beat. For it was his favorite sport, and thiswarm, supple young creature, who was to be the victim of his bow andarrow, showed herself worthy of his mettle. 

The clock downstairs struck the half-hour, and Bannister, reminded ofwhat lay before him outside, made a move to go. Her alert eyes had beenexpecting it, and she forestalled him by a change of tactics. Movedapparently by impulse, she seated herself on the piano-stool, swept thekeys for an instant with her fingers, and plunged into the brilliant"Carmen" overture. Susceptible as this man was to the influence ofmusic, he could not fail to be arrested by so perfect an interpretationof his mood. He stood rooted, was carried back again in imagination toa great artiste's rendering of that story of fierce passion and achingdesire so brilliantly enacted under the white sunbeat of a countryof cloudless skies. Imperceptibly she drifted into other parts of theopera. Was it the wild, gypsy seductiveness of _Carmen_ that he felt, or, rather, this American girl's allurement? From "Love will like abirdling fly" she slipped into the exquisitely graceful snatches of songwith which _Carmen_ answers the officer's questions. Their rare buoyancymarched with his mood, and from them she carried him into the song"Over the hill, " that is so perfect and romantic an expression of the_wanderlust. _

How long she could have held him she will never know, for at thatinopportune time came blundering one of his men into the room with acall for his presence to take charge of the situation outside. 

"What do y'u want, Bostwick?" he demanded, with curt peremptoriness. 

The man whispered in his ear. 

"Can't wait any longer, can't they?" snapped his chief. "Y'u tell themthey'll wait till I give the word. Understand?"

He almost flung the man out of the room, but Helen noticed that she hadlost him. His interest was perfunctory, and, though he remained a littletime longer, it was to establish his authority with the men rather thanto listen to her. Twice he looked at his watch within five minutes. 

He rose to go. "There is a little piece of business I have to putthrough. So I'll have to ask y'u to excuse me. I have had a delightfulhour, and I hate to go. " He smiled, and quoted with mock sentimentality:

"The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls tome; I count them over, every one apart, My rosary! My rosary!"

"Dear me! One certainly lives and learns. How could I have guessed that, with your reputation, you could afford to indulge in a rosary?" shemocked. 

"Good night. " He offered his hand. 

"Don't go yet, " she coaxed. 

He shook his head. "Duty, y'u know. "

"Stay only a little longer. Just ten minutes more. "

His vanity purred, so softly she stroked it. "Can't. Wish I could. Y'uhear how noisy things are getting. I've got to take charge. So-long. "

She stood close, looking up at him with a face of seductive appeal. 

"Don't go yet. Please!"

The triumph of victory mounted to his head. "I'll come back when I'vedone what I've got to do. "

"No, no. Stay a little longer just a little. "

"Not a minute, sweetheart. "

He bent to kiss her, and a little clenched fist struck his face. 

"Don't you dare!" she cried. 

The outraged woman in her, curbed all evening with an iron bit, escapedfrom control. Delightedly he laughed. The hot spirit in her pleased himmightily. He took her little hands and held them in one of his while hesmiled down at her. "I guess that kiss will keep, my girl, till I comeback. "

"My God! Are you going to kill your own cousin?"

All her terror, all her detestation and hatred of him, looked haggardlyout of her unmasked face. His narrowed eyes searched her heart, and hiscountenance grew every second more sinister, "Y'u have been fooling me all evening, then?"

"Yes, and hating you every minute of the time. "

"Y'u dared?" His face was black with rage. 

"You would like to kill me. Why don't you?"

"Because I know a better revenge. I'm going out to take it now. Afteryour lover is dead, I'll come back and make love to y'u again, " hesneered. 

"Never!" She stood before him like a queen in her lissom, brave, defiantyouth. "And as for your cousin, you may kill him, but you can't destroyhis contempt for you. He will die despising you for a coward and ascoundrel. "

It was true, and he knew it. In his heart he cursed her, while he vainlysought some weapon that would strike home through her impervious armor. 

"Y'u love him. I'll remember that when I see him kick, " he taunted. 

"I make you a present of the information. I love him, and I despise you. Nothing can change those facts, " she retorted whitely. 

"Mebbe, but some day y'u'll crawl on your knees to beg my pardon forhaving told me so. "

"There is your overweening vanity again, " she commented. 

"I'm going to break y'u, my beauty, so that y'u'll come running when Isnap my fingers. "

"We'll see. "

"And in the meantime I'll go hang your lover. " He bowed ironically, swung on his jingling heel, and strode out of the room. 

She stood there listening to his dying footfalls, then covered herface with her hands, as if to press back the dreadful vision her mindconjured. 

CHAPTER 19. WEST POINT TO THE RESCUE

It was understood that the sheriff should make a perfunctory defenseagainst the mob in order to "square" him with the voters at the electionsoon to be held. But the word had been quietly passed that the bulletsof the prison guards would be fired over the heads of the attackers. This assurance lent an added braggadocio to the Dutch courage of thelynchers. Many of them who would otherwise have hung back distinguishedthemselves by the enthusiasm which they displayed. 

Bannister himself generaled the affair, detailing squads to batter downthe outer door, to guard every side of the prison, and to overpower thesheriff's guard. That official, according to programme, appeared at awindow and made a little speech, declaring his intention of performinghis duty at whatever cost. He was hooted down with jeers and laughter, and immediately the attack commenced. 

The yells of the attackers mingled with the sound of the axe-blows andthe report of revolvers from inside the building. Among those nearestto the door being battered down were Denver and the few men he had withhim. His plan offered merely a forlorn hope. It was that in the firstscramble to get in after the way was opened he and his friends mightpush up the stairs in the van, and hold the corridor for as long as theycould against the furious mob. 

It took less than a quarter of an hour to batter down the door, andamong the first of those who sprang across the threshold were Denver, Missou, Frisco and their allies. While others stopped to overpowerthe struggling deputies according to the arranged farce, they hurriedupstairs and discovered the cell in which their friends were fastened. 

Frisco passed a revolver through the grating to McWilliams, and anotherto Bannister. "Haven't got the keys, so I can't let y'u out, old hoss, "he told the foreman. "But mebbe y'u won't feel so lonesome with theselittle toys to play with. "

Meanwhile Denver, a young giant of seventy-six inches, held the head ofthe stairs, with four stalwart plainsmen back of him. The rush of manyfeet came up pell-mell, and he flung the leaders back on those behind. 

"Hold on there. This isn't a free-lunch counter. Don't you see we'recrowded up here already?"

"What's eating you? Whyfor, can't we come?" growled one of the foremostnursing an injured nose. 

"I've just explained to you, son, that it's crowded. Folks are prevalentenough up here right now. Send up that bunch of keys and we'll bringyour meat to you fast enough. "

"What's that? What's that?" The outlaw chief pushed his way through thedense mob at the door and reached the stairway. 

"He won't let us up, " growled one of them. 

"Who won't?" demanded Bannister sharply, and at once came leaping up thestairs. 

"Nothing doing, " drawled Frisco, and tossed him over the railing on tothe heads of his followers below. 

They carried Bannister into the open air, for his head had struck thenewel-post in his descent. This gave the defense a few minutes respite. 

"They're going to come a-shooting next time, " remarked Denver. "Just assoon as he comes back from bye-low land you'll see things hum. "

"Y'u bet, " agreed Missou. "We'll last about three minutes when thestampede begins. "

The scream of an engine pierced the night. 

Denver's face lit. "Make it five minutes, Missou, and Mac is safe. Atleast, I'm hoping so awful hard. Miss Helen wired for the militia fromSheridan this nothing. Chances are they're on that train. I couldn'ttell you earlier because she made me promise not to. She was afraid itmight leak out and get things started sooner. "

Weak but furious, the miscreant from the Shoshones returned to theattack. "Break in the back door and sneak up behind on those fellows. We'll have the men we want inside of fifteen minutes, " he promised themob. 

"We'll rush them from both sides, and show those guys on the landingwhether they can stop us, " added Bostwick. 

Suddenly some one raised the cry, "The soldiers!" Bannister looked upthe street and swore a vicious oath. Swinging down the road at doubletime came a company of militia in khaki. He was mad with baffled fury, but he made good his retreat at once and disappeared promptly into thenearest dark alley. 

The mob scattered by universal impulse; disintegrated so promptly thatwithin five minutes the soldiers held the ground alone, save for theofficials of the prison and Denver's little band. 

A boyish lieutenant lately out of the Point, and just come in toa lieutenancy in the militia, was in command. "In time?" he askedanxiously, for this was his first independent expedition. 

"Y'u bet, " chuckled Denver. "We're right glad to see you, and I'llbet those boys in the cage ain't regretting your arrival any. Fifteenminutes later and you would have been in time to hold the funeralservices, I reckon. "

"Where is Miss Messiter?" asked the young officer. 

"She's at the Elk House, colonel. I expect some of us better drift overthere and tell her it's all right. She's the gamest little woman thatever crossed the Wyoming line. Hadn't been for her these boys would havebeen across the divide hours ago. She's a plumb thoroughbred. Wouldn'tgive up an inch. All day she has generaled this thing; played a mightyweak hand for a heap more than it was worth. Sand? Seh: she's grit clearthrough, if anybody asks you. " And Denver told the story of theday, making much of her unflinching courage and nothing of her men'sreadiness to back whatever steps she decided upon. 

It was ten minutes past eleven when a smooth young, apple-cheeked lad inkhaki presented himself before Helen Messiter with a bow never inventedoutside of West Point. 

"I am Lieutenant Beecher. Governor Raleigh presents his compliments byme, Miss Messiter, and is very glad to be able to put at your servicesuch forces as are needed to quiet the town. "

"You were in time?" she breathed. 

"With about five minutes to spare. I am having the prisoners broughthere for the night if you do not object. In the morning I shallinvestigate the affair, and take such steps as are necessary. Inthe meantime you may rest assured that there will be no furtherdisturbance. "

"Thank you I am sure that with you in command everything will now be allright, and I am quite of your opinion that the prisoners had better stayhere for the night. One of them is wounded, and ought to be given thebest attention. But, of course, you will see to that, lieutenant. "

The young man blushed. This was the right kind of appreciation. Hewished his old classmates at the Point could hear how implicitly thissweet girl relied on him. 

"Certainly. And now, Miss Messiter, if there is nothing you wish, Ishall retire for the night. You may sleep with perfect confidence. "

"I am sure I may, lieutenant. " She gave him a broadside of trusting eyesfull of admiration. "But perhaps you would like me to see my foremanfirst, just to relieve my mind. And, as you were about to say, hisfriend might be brought in, too, since they are together. "

The young man promptly assented, though he had not been aware that hewas about to say anything of the kind. 

They came in together, Bannister supported by McWilliams's arm. The eyesof both mistress and maid brimmed over with tears when they saw them. Helen dragged forward a chair for the sheepman, and he sank into it. From its depths he looked up with his rare, sweet smile. 

"I've heard about it, " he told her, in a low voice. "I've heard howy'u fought for my life all day. There's nothing I can say. I owed y'ueverything already twice, and now I owe it all over again. Give me alifetime and I couldn't get even. "

Helen's swift glance swept over Nora and the foreman. They were in adark alcove, oblivious of anybody else. Also they were in each other'sarms frankly. For some reason wine flowed into the cream of Helen'scheeks. 

"Do you have to 'get even'? Among friends is that necessary?" she askedshyly. 

"I hope not. If it is, I'm sure bankrupt Even my thanks seem to stay athome. If y'u hadn't done so much for me, perhaps I could tell y'u howmuch y'u had done But I have no words to say it. "

"Then don't, " she advised. 

"Y'u're the best friend a man ever had. That's all I can say. "

"It's enough, since you mean it, even though it isn't true, " sheanswered gently. 

Their eyes met, fastened for an instant, and by common consent lookedaway. 

As it chanced they were close to the window, their shadows reflected onthe blind. A man, slipping past in the street on horseback, stoppedat sight of that lighted window, with the moving shadows, in anuncontrollable white fury. He slid from the saddle, threw the reinsover the horse's head to the ground, and slipped his revolver from itsholster and back to make sure that he could draw it easily. Then hepassed springily across the road to the hotel and up the stairs. He trodlightly, stealthily, and by his very wariness defeated his purposeof eluding observation. For a pair of keen eyes from the hotel officeglimpsed the figure stealing past so noiselessly, and promptly followedup the stairway. 

"Hope I don't intrude at this happy family gathering. "

Helen, who had been pouring a glass of cordial for the spent and woundedsheepman, put the glass down on the table and turned at sound of thesilken, sinister voice. After one glance at the vindictive face, fromthe cold eyes of which hate seemed to smolder, she took an instinctivestep toward her lover. The cold wave that drenched her heart accompaniedan assurance that the man in the doorway meant trouble. 

His sleek smile arrested her. He was standing with his feet apart, hishands clasped lightly behind his back, as natty and as well groomed aswas his wont. 

"Ah, make the most of what ye yet may spend, Before ye, too, into theDust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sansSong, sans Singer, and--sans End!"

he misquoted, with a sneer; and immediately interrupted his irony togive way to one of his sudden blind rages. 

With incredible swiftness his right hand moved forward and up, catchingrevolver from scabbard as it rose. But by a fraction of a second hispurpose had been anticipated. A closed fist shot forward to the salientjaw in time to fling the bullets into the ceiling. An arm encircled theoutlaw's neck, and flung him backward down the stairs. The railing brokehis fall, and on it his body slid downward, the weapon falling from hishand. He pulled himself together at the foot of the stairs, crouched foran upward rush, but changed his mind instantly. The young officer whohad flung him down had him covered with his own six-shooter. He couldhear footsteps running toward him, and he knew that in a few seconds hewould be in the hands of the soldiers. Plunging out of the doorway, thedesperado vaulted to the saddle and drove his spurs home. For a minutehoofs pounded on the hard, white road. Then the night swallowed him andthe echo of his disappearance. 

"That was Bannister of the Shoshones and the Tetons, " the girl's whitelips pronounced to Lieutenant Beecher. 

"And I let him get away from me, " the disappointed lad groaned. "Why, Ihad him right in my hands. I could have throttled him as easy. But howwas I to know he would have nerve enough to come rushing into a hotelfull of soldiers hunting him?"

"Y'u have a very persistent cousin, Mr. Bannister, " said McWilliams, coming forward from the alcove with shining eyes. "And I must say he'sgame. Did y'u ever hear the like? Come butting in here as cool as if hehadn't a thing to do but sing out orders like he was in his own home. Hewas that easy. "

"It seems to me that a little of the praise is due Lieutenant Beecher. If he hadn't dealt so competently with the situation murder would havebeen done. Did you learn your boxing at the Academy, Lieutenant?" Helenasked, trying to treat the situation lightly in spite of her hammeringheart. 

"I was the champion middleweight of our class, " Beecher could not helpsaying boyishly, with another of his blushes. 

"I can easily believe it, " returned Helen. 

"I wish y'u would teach me how to double up a man so prompt andimmediate, " said the admiring foreman. 

"I expect I'm under particular obligations to that straight right tothe chin, Lieutenant, " chimed in the sheepman. "The fact is that I don'tseem to be able to get out anything except thanks these days. I oughtto send my cousin a letter thanking him for giving me a chance to owe somuch kindness to so many people. "

"Your cousin?" repeated the uncomprehending officer. 

"This desperado, Bannister, is my cousin, " answered the sheepmangravely. 

"But if he was your cousin, why should he want--to kill you?"

"That's a long story, Lieutenant. Will y'u hear it now?"

"If you feel strong enough to tell it. "

"Oh, I'm strong enough. " He glanced at Helen. "Perhaps we had better nottire Miss Messiter with it. If y'u'll come to my room--"

"I should like, above all things, to hear it again, " interrupted thatyoung woman promptly. 

For the man she loved had just come back to her from the brink of thegrave and she was still reluctant to let him out of her sight. 

So Ned Bannister told his story once more, and out of the alcove camethe happy foreman and Nora to listen to the tale. While he told it hissweetheart's contented eyes were on him. The excitement of the nightburnt pleasantly in her veins, for out of the nettle danger she hadplucked safety for her sheepman. 

CHAPTER 20. TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE

The Fourth of July celebration at Gimlet Butte had been a thing of thepast for four days and the Lazy D had fallen back into the routine ofranch life. The riders were discussing supper and the continued absenceof Reddy when that young man drew back the flap and joined them. 

He stood near the doorway and grinned with embarrassed guilt at theassembled company. 

"I reckon I got too much Fourth of July at Gimlet Butte, boys. That'show come I to be onpunctual getting back. "

There was a long silence, during which those at the table looked at himwith an expressionless gravity that did not seem to veil an unduly warmwelcome. 

"Hello, Mac! Hello, boys! I just got back, " he further contributed. 

Without comment the Lazy D resumed supper. Apparently it had notmissed Reddy or noticed his return. Casual conversation was picked upcheerfully. The return of the prodigal was quite ignored. 

"Then that blamed cow gits its back up and makes a bee-line for Rogers. The old man hikes for his pony and--"

"Seems good to git my legs under the old table again, " interrupted Reddywith cheerful unease. 

"--loses by about half a second, " continued Missou. "If Doc hadn't ropedits hind laig--"

"Have some cigars, boys. I brought a box back with me. " Reddy tossed ahandful on the table, where they continued to lie unnoticed. 

"--there's no telling what would have happened. As 'twas the old man gotoff with a--"

"Y'u bet, they're good cigars all right, " broke in the propitiatoryReddy. 

The interrupted anecdote went on to a finish and the men trooped out andleft the prodigal alone with his hash. When that young man reached thebunkhouse Frisco was indulging in a reminiscence. Reddy got only thelast of it, but that did not contribute to his serenity. 

"Yep! When I was working on the Silver Dollar. Must a-been three yearsago, I reckon, when Jerry Miller got that chapping. "

"Threw down the outfit in a row they had with the Lafferty crowd, didn'the?" asked Denver. 

Frisco nodded. 

Mac got up, glanced round, and reached for his hat. "I reckon I'll haveto be going, " he said, and forthright departed. 

Reddy reached for HIS hat and rose. "I got to go and have a talk withMac, " he explained. 

Denver got to the door first and his big frame filled it. 

"Don't hurry, Reddy. It ain't polite to rush away right after dinner. Besides, Mac will be here all day. He ain't starting for New York. "

"Y'u're gittin' blamed particular. Mac he went right out. "

"But Mac didn't have a most particular engagement with the boys. There'sa difference. "

"Why, I ain't got--" Reddy paused and looked around helplessly. 

"Gents, I move y'u that it be the horse sense of the Lazy D that ourfriend Mr. Reddy Reeves be given gratis one chapping immediately if notsooner. The reason for which same being that he played a lowdown trickon the outfit whose bread he was eating. "

"Oh, quit your foolin', boys, " besought the victim anxiously. 

"And that Denver, being some able-bodied and having a good reach, berequested to deliver same to the gent needing it, " concluded Missou. 

Reddy backed in alarm to the wall. "Y'u boys don't want to get gay withme. Y'u can't monkey with--"

Motion carried unanimously. 

Just as Reddy whipped out his revolver Denver's long leg shot outand his foot caught the wrist behind the weapon. When Reddy next tookcognizance of his surroundings he was serving as a mattress for theanatomy of three stalwart riders. He was gently deposited face down onhis bunk with a one-hundred-eighty-pound live peg at the end of each armand leg. 

"All ready, Denver, " announced Frisco from the end of the left foot. 

Denver selected a pair of plain leather chaps with care and proceeded tobusiness. What he had to do he did with energy. It is safe to saythat at least one of those present can still vividly remember this andtestify to his thoroughness. 

Mac drifted in after the disciplining. As foreman it was fitting thathe should be discreetly ignorant of what had occurred, but he could nothelp saying:

"That y'u I heard singing, Reddy? Seems to me y'u had ought to takethat voice into grand opera. The way y'u straddle them high notes isa caution for fair. What was it y'u was singing? Sounded like 'Would Iwere far from here, love. '"

"Y'u go to hell, " choked Reddy, rushing past him from the bunkhouse. 

McWilliams looked round innocently. "I judge some of y'u boys musta-been teasing Reddy from his manner. Seemed like he didn't want to sitdown and talk. "

"I shouldn't wonder but he'll hold his conversations standing for a dayor two, " returned Missou gravely. 

At the end of the laugh that greeted this Mac replied:

"Well, y'u boys want to be gentle with him. " "He's so plumb tender nowthat I reckon he'll get along without any more treatment in that linefrom us, " drawled Frisco. 

Mac departed laughing. He had an engagement that recurred daily in thedusk of the evening, and he was always careful to be on time. The otherparty to the engagement met him at the kitchen door and fell with himinto the trail that led to Lee Ming's laundry. 

"What made you late?" she asked. 

"I'm not late, honey. I seem late because you're so anxious, " heexplained. 

"I'm not, " protested Nora indignantly. "If you think you're the only manon the place, Jim McWilliams. "

"Sho! Hold your hawsses a minute, Nora, darling. A spinster like y'u--"

"You think you're awful funny--writing in my autograph album that aspinster's best friend is her powder box. I like Mr. Halliday's waysbetter. He's a perfect gentleman. "

"I ain't got a word to say against Denver, even if he did write in yourbook, "'Sugar is sweet, The sky is blue, Grass is green And so are you. '

I reckon, being a perfect gentleman, he meant--"

"You know very well you wrote that in yourself and pretended it was Mr. Halliday, signing his name and everything. It wasn't a bit nice of you. "

"Now do I look like a forger?" he wanted to know with innocence on hischerubic face. 

"Anyway you know it was mean. Mr. Halliday wouldn't do such a thing. Youtake your arm down and keep it where it belongs, Mr. McWilliams. "

"That ain't my name, Nora, darling, and I'd like to know where my armbelongs if it isn't round the prettiest girl in Wyoming. What's the useof being engaged if--"

"I'm not sure I'm going to stay engaged to you, " announced the youngwoman coolly, walking at the opposite edge of the path from him. 

"Now that ain't any way to talk. "

"You needn't lecture me. I'm not your wife and I don't think I'm goingto be, " cut in Nora, whose temper was ruffled on account of having hadto wait for him as well as for other reasons. 

"Y'u surely wouldn't make me sue y'u for breach of promise, would y'u?"he demanded, with a burlesque of anxiety that was the final straw. 

Nora turned on her heel and headed for the house. 

"Now don't y'u get mad at me, honey. I was only joking, " he explained ashe pursued her. 

"You think you can laugh at me all you please. I'll show you that youcan't, " she informed him icily. 

"Sho! I wasn't laughing at y'u. What tickled me--"

"I'm not interested in your amusement, Mr. McWilliams. "

"What's the use of flying out about a little thing like that? Honest, I don't even know what you're mad at me for, " the perplexed foremanaverred. 

"I'm not mad at you, as you call it. I'm simply disgusted. "

And with a final "Good night" flung haughtily over her shoulder MissNora Darling disappeared into the house. 

Mac took off his hat and gazed at the door that had been closed in hisface. He scratched his puzzled poll in vain. 

"I ce'tainly got mine good and straight just like Reddy got his. Butwhat in time was it all about? And me thinkin' I was a graduate in thestudy of the ladies. I reckon I never did get jarred up so. It's plumbdiscouraging. "

If he could have caught a glimpse of Nora at that moment, lying on herbed and crying as if her heart would break, Mac might have found thesituation less hopeless. 

CHAPTER 21. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS

In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was adeserted miner's cabin. 

The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of thebuildings below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded itscreened the shack from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke wasrising from the mud chimney, and inside the cabin two men lounged beforethe open fire. 

"It's his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I lookfor him to drop down on the ranch. His hate's kind of volcanic, Mr. NedBannister's is, and it's bound to bubble over mighty sudden one of thesedays, " said the younger of the two, rising and stretching himself. 

"It did bubble over some when he drove two thousand of my sheep over thebluff and killed the whole outfit, " suggested the namesake of the manmentioned. 

"Yes, I reckon that's some irritating, " agreed McWilliams. "But if Iknow him, he isn't going to be content with sheep so long as he can takeit out of a real live man. "

"Or woman, " suggested the sheepman. 

"Or woman, " agreed the other. "Especially when he thinks he can cut y'udeeper by striking at her. If he doesn't raid the Lazy D one of thesenights, I'm a blamed poor prophet. "

Bannister nodded agreement. "He's near the end of his rope. He couldsee that if he were blind. When we captured Bostwick and they got aconfession out of him, that started the landslide against him. It beganto be noised abroad that the government was going to wipe him out. Folksbegan to lose their terror of him, and after that his whole outfit beganto want to turn State's evidence. He isn't sure of one of them now;can't tell when he will be shot in the back by one of his own scoundrelsfor that two thousand dollars reward. "

The foreman strolled negligently to the door. His eyes driftedindolently down into the valley, and immediately sparkled withexcitement. 

"The signal's out, Bann, " he exclaimed. "It's in your window. "

The sheepman leaped to his feet and strode to the door. Down in thevalley a light was gleaming in a window. Even while he looked anotherlight appeared in a second window. 

"She wants us both, " cried the foreman, running to the little corralback of the house. 

He presently reappeared with two horses, both saddled, and they took thedownward trail at once. 

"If Miss Helen can keep him in play till we arrive, " murmured Macanxiously. 

"She can if he gives her a chance, and I think he will. There's a kindof cat instinct in him to play with his prey. "

"Yes, but he missed his kill last time by letting her fool him. That'swhat I'm afraid of' that he won't wait. "

They had reached lower ground now, and could put their ponies at apounding gallop that ate up the trail fast. As they approached thehouses, both men drew rein and looked carefully to their weapons. Thenthey slid from the saddles and slipped noiselessly forward. 

What the foreman had said was exactly true. Helen Messiter did want themboth, and she wanted them very much indeed. 

After supper she had been dreamily playing over to herself one ofChopin's waltzes, when she became aware, by some instinct, that she wasnot alone in the room. There had been no least sound, no slightest stirto betray an alien presence. Yet that some one was in the room she knew, and by some subtle sixth sense could even put a name to the intruder. 

Without turning she called over her shoulder: "Shall I finish thewaltz?" No faintest tremor in the clear, sweet voice betrayed the racingheart. 

"Y'u're a cool hand, my friend, " came his ready answer. "But I thinkwe'll dispense with the music. I had enough last time to serve me fortwice. "

She laughed as she swung on the stool, with that musical scorn whichboth allured and maddened. "I did rather do you that time, " she allowed. 

"This is the return match. You won then. I win now, " he told her, with alook that chilled. 

"Indeed! But isn't that rather discounting the future?"

"Only the immediate future. Y'u're mine, my beauty, and I mean to takey'u with me. "

Just a disdainful sweep of her eyes she gave him as she rose from thepiano-stool and rearranged the lamps. "You mean so much that never comesto pass, Mr. Bannister. The road to the nether regions is paved withgood intentions, we are given to understand. Not that yours can by anystretch of imagination be called 'good intentions. '"

"Contrariwise, then, perhaps the road to heaven may be paved with evilintentions. Since y'u travel the road with me, wherever it may lead, itwere but gallant to hope so. "

He took three sharp steps toward her and stood looking down in her face, her sweet slenderness so close to him that the perfume mounted to hisbrain. Surely no maiden had ever been more desirable than this one, whoheld him in such contemptuous estimation that only her steady eyesmoved at his approach. These held to his and defied him, while she stoodleaning motionless against the table with such strong and supple grace. She knew what he meant to do, hated him for it, and would not give himthe satisfaction of flying an inch from him or struggling with him. 

"Your eyes are pools of splendor. That's right. Make them flash fire. I love to see such spirit, since it offers a more enticing pleasurein breaking, " he told her, with an admiration half ironic but whollygenuine. "Pools of splendor, my beauty! Therefore I salute them. "

At the touch of his lips upon her eyelids a shiver ran through her, butstill she made no movement, was cold to him as marble. "You coward!" shesaid softly, with an infinite contempt. 

"Your lips, " he continued to catalogue, "are ripe as fresh flesh ofSouthern fruit. No cupid ever possessed so adorable a mouth. A worshiperof Eros I, as now I prove. "

This time it was the mouth he kissed, the while her unconquered spiritlooked out of the brave eyes, and fain would have murdered him. In turnhe kissed her cold cheeks, the tip of one of her little ears, the small, clenched fist with which she longed to strike him. 

"Are you quite through?"

"For the present, and now, having put the seal of my ownership on hermore obvious charms, I'll take my bride home. "

"I would die first. "

"Nay, you'll die later, Madam Bannister, but not for many years, Ihope, " he told her, with a theatrical bow. 

"Do you think me so weak a thing as your words imply?"

"Rather so strong that the glory of overcoming y'u fills me with joy. Believe me, madam, though your master I am not less your slave, " hemocked. 

"You are neither my master nor my slave, but a thing I detest, " shesaid, in a low voice that carried extraordinary intensity. 

"And obey, " he added, suavely. "Come, madam, to horse, for ourhoneymoon. "

"I tell you I shall not go. "

"Then, in faith, we'll re-enact a modern edition of 'The Taming of theShrew. ' Y'u'll find me, sweet, as apt at the part as old Petruchio. " Hepaced complacently up the room and back, and quoted glibly:

"And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. He that knows betterhow to tame a shrew, Now let him, speak; 'tis charity to show. "

"Would you take me against my will?"

"Y'u have said it. What's your will to me? What I want I take. And Isure want my beautiful shrew. " His half-shuttered eyes gloated on her ashe rattled off a couple more lines from the play he had mentioned. 

"Kate, like the hazel-twig, Is straight and slender, and as brown in hueAs hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels. "

She let a swift glance travel anxiously to the door. "You are in a verypoetical mood to-day. "

"As befits a bridegroom, my own. " He stepped lightly to the window andtapped twice on the pane. "A signal to bring the horses round. If y'uhave any preparations to make, any trousseau to prepare, y'u better setthat girl of yours to work. "

"I have no preparations to make. "

"Coming to me simply as y'u are? Good! We'll lead the simple life. "

Nora, as it chanced, knocked and entered at his moment. The sight ofher vivid good looks truck him for the first time. At sight of himshe stopped, gazing with parted lips, a double row of pearls shiningthrough. 

He turned swiftly to the mistress. "Y'u ought not to be alone thereamong so many men. It wouldn't be proper. We'll take the girl along withus. "

"Where?" Nora's parted lips emitted. 

"To Arden, my dear. " He interrupted himself to look at his watch. "Iwonder why that fellow doesn't come with the horses. They should passthis window. "

Bannister, standing jauntily with his feet astride as he looked outof the window, heard someone enter the room. "Did y'u bring round thehorses?" he snapped, without looking round. 

"NO, WE ALLOWED THEY WOULDN'T BE NEEDED. "

At sound of the slow drawl the outlaw wheeled like a flash, his handtraveling to the hilt of the revolver that hung on his hip. But he wastoo late. Already two revolvers covered him, and he knew that both hiscousin and McWilliams were dead shots. He flashed one venomous look atthe mistress of the ranch. 

"Y'u fooled me again. That lamp business was a signal, and I was toothick-haided to see it. My compliments to y'u, Miss Messiter. "

"Y'u are under arrest, " announced his cousin. 

"Y'u don't say. " His voice was full of sarcastic admiration. "And youdone it with your little gun! My, what a wonder y'u are!"

"Take your hand from the butt of that gun. Y'u better relieve him ofit, Mac. He's got such a restless disposition he might commit suicide byreaching for it. "

"What do y'u think you're going to do with me now y'u have got me, Cousin Ned?"

"We're going to turn y'u over to the United States Government. "

"Guess again. I have a thing, or two to say to that. "

"You're going to Gimlet Butte with us, alive or dead. "

The outlaw intentionally misunderstood. "If I've got to take y'u, thenwe'll say y'u go dead rather than alive. "

"He was going to take Nora and me with him, " Helen explained to herfriends. 

Instantly the man swung round on her. "But now I've changed my mind, ma'am. I'm going to take my cousin with me instead of y'u ladies. "

Helen caught his meaning first, and flashed it whitely to her lover. Itdawned on him more slowly. 

"I see y'u remember, Miss Messiter, " he continued, with a cruel, silkenlaugh. "He gave me his parole to go with me whenever I said the word. I'm saying it now. " He sat down astride a chair, put his chin on theback cross-bar, and grinned malevolently from one to another. 

"What's come over this happy family? It don't look so joyous all of asudden. Y'u don't need to worry, ma'am, I'll send him back to y'u allright--alive or dead. With his shield or on it, y'u know. Ha! ha!"

"You will not go with him?" It was wrung from Helen as a low cry, andstruck her lover's heart. 

"I must, " he answered. "I gave him my word, y'u remember. "

"But why keep it? You know what he is, how absolutely devoid of honor. "

"That is not quite the question, is it?" he smiled. 

"Would he keep his word to you?"

"Not if a lie would do as well. But that isn't the point, either. "

"It's quixotic--foolish--worse than that--ridiculous, " she implored. 

"Perhaps, but the fact remains that I am pledged. "

 "'I could not love thee, dear, so much Loved I not honor more, '"

murmured the villain in the chair, apparently to the ceiling. "Dear Ned, he always was the soul of honor. I'll have those lines carved on histombstone. "

"You see! He is already bragging that he means to kill you, " said thegirl. 

"I shall go armed, " the sheepman answered. 

"Yes, but he will take you into the mountain fastnesses, where the menthat serve him will do his bidding. What is one man among so many?"

"Two men, ma'am, " corrected the foreman. 

"What's that?" The outlaw broke off the snatch of opera he was singingto slew his head round at McWilliams. 

"I said two. Any objections, seh?"

"Yes. That wasn't in the contract. "

"We're giving y'u surplusage, that's all. Y'u wanted one of us, and y'uget two. We don't charge anything for the extra weight, " grinned Mac. 

"Oh, Mac, will you go with him?" cried Helen, with shining eyes. 

"Those are my present intentions, Miss Helen, " laughed her foreman. 

Whereat Nora emerged from the background and flung herself on him. "Y'ucan't go, Jim! I won't have you go!" she cried. 

The young man blushed a beautiful pink, and accepted gladly this overtevidence of a reconciliation. "It's all right, honey. Don't y'u thinktwo big, grown-up men are good to handle that scalawag? Sho! Don't y'uworry. "

"Miss Nora can come, too, if she likes, " suggested he of the Shoshones. "Looks like we would have quite a party. Won't y'u join us, too, Miss Messiter, according to the original plan?" he said, extending anironical invitation. 

"I think we had better cut it down to me alone. We'll not burden yourhospitality, sir, " said the sheepman. 

"No, sir, I'm in on this. Whyfor can't I go?" demanded Jim. 

Bannister, the outlaw, eyed him unpleasantly. "Y'u certainly can so faras I am concerned. I owe y'u one, too, Mr. McWilliams. Only if y'u comeof your own free will, as y'u are surely welcome to do, don't holler ify'u're not so welcome to leave whenever y'u take a notion. "

"I'll try and look out for that. It's settled, then, that we ridetogether. When do y'u want to start?"

"We can't go any sooner than right now. I hate to take these youngmen from y'u, lady, but, as I said, I'll send them back in good shape. Adios, senorita. Don't forget to whom y'u belong. " He swaggered to thedoor and turned, leaning against the jamb with one hand again it. "Iexpect y'u can say those lovey-dov good-byes without my help. I'm goinginto the yard. If y'u want to y'u can plug me in the back through thewindow, " he suggested, with a sneer. 

"As y'u would us under similar circumstances, " retorted his cousin. 

"Be with y'u in five minutes, " said the foreman. 

"Don't hurry. It's a long good-bye y'u're saying, " returned his enemyplacidly. 

Nora and the young man who belonged to her followed him from the room, leaving Bannister and his hostess alone. 

"Shall I ever see you again?" Helen murmured. 

"I think so, " the sheepman answered. "The truth is that this opportunityfalls pat. Jim and have been wanting to meet those men who are under mycousin's influence and have a talk with them. There is no questionbut that the gang is disintegrating, and I believe that if we offer tomediate between its members and the Government something might be doneto stop the outrages that have been terrorizing this country. My cousincan't be reached, but I believe the rest of them, or, at least a part, can be induced either to surrender or to flee the country. Anyhow, wewant to try it. "

"But the danger?" she breathed. 

"Is less than y'u think. Their leader has not anywhere nearly theabsolute power he had a few months ago. They would hardly dare doviolence to a peace envoy. "

"Your cousin would. I don't believe he has any scruples. "

"We shall keep an eye on him. Both of us will not sleep at the sametime. Y'u may depend on me to bring your foreman safely back to y'u, " hesmiled. 

"Oh, my foreman!"

"And your foreman's friend, " he added. "I have the best of reasons forwanting to return alive. I think y'u know them. They have to do withy'u, Miss Helen. "

It had come at last, but, womanlike, she evaded the issue her heart hadsought. "Yes, I know. You think it would not be fair to throw away yourlife in this foolish manner after I have saved it for you--how manytimes was it you said?" The blue eyes lifted with deceptive frankness tothe gray ones. 

"No, that isn't my reason. I have a better one than that. I love y'u, girl, more than anything in this world. "

"And so you try to prove it to me by running into a trap set for you totake your life. That's a selfish kind of love, isn't it? Or it would beif I loved you. "

"Do y'u love me, Helen?"

"Why should I tell you, since you don't love me enough to give up thisquixotic madness?"

"Don't y'u see, dear, I can't give it up?"

"I see you won't. You care more for your pride than for me. "

"No, it isn't that. I've got to go. It isn't that I want to leave y'u, God knows. But I've given my word, and I must keep it. Do y'u want meto be a quitter, and y'u so game yourself? Do y'u want it to go all overthis cattle country that I gave my word and took it back because I lostmy nerve?"

"The boy that takes a dare isn't a hero, is he! There's a higher couragethat refuses to be drawn into such foolishness, that doesn't give way tothe jeers of the empty headed. "

"I don't think that is a parallel case. I'm sorry, we can't see thisalike, but I've got to go ahead the way that seems to me right. "

"You're going to leave me, then, to go with that man?"

"Yes, if that's the way y'u have to put it. " He looked at hersorrowfully, and added gently: "I thought you would see it. I thoughtsure you would. "

But she could not bear that he should leave her so, and she cried outafter him. "Oh, I see it. I know you must go; but I can't bear it. " Herhead buried itself in his coat. "It isn't right--it isn't a--a squaredeal that you should go away now, the very minute you belong to me. "

A happy smile shone in his eyes. "I belong to you, do I? That's goodhearing, girl o' mine. " His arm went round her and he stroked the blackhead softly. "I'll not be gone long, dear. Don't y'u worry about me. I'll be back with y'u soon; just as soon as I have finished this pieceof work I have to do. "

"But if you should get--if anything should happen to you?"

"Nothing is going to happen to me. There is a special providence looksafter lovers, y'u know. "

"Be careful, Ned, of yourself. For my sake, dear. "

"I'll dry my socks every time I get my feet wet for fear of takingcold, " he laughed. 

"But you will, won't you?"

"I'll be very careful, Helen, " he promised more gravely. 

Even then she could hardly let him go, clinging to him with a reluctanceto separate that was a new experience to her independent, vigorousyouth. In the end he unloosened her arm, kissed her once, and hurriedout of the room. In the hallway he met McWilliams, also hurryin out froma tearful farewell on the part of Nora. 

Bannister, the outlaw, already mounted, was waiting for them. "Y'u didget through at last, " he drawled insolently. "Well, if y'u'll kindly giveorders to your seven-foot dwarf to point the Winchester another way I'llcollect my men an we'll be moving. "

For, though the outlaw had left his men in command of the ranch when hewent into the house, he found the situation reversed on his return. With the arrival of reinforcements, in the persons of McWilliams and hisfriend, it had been the turn of the raiders to turn over their weapons. 

"All right, Denver, " nodded the foreman. 

The outlaw chief whistled for his men, and with their guests they rodeinto the silent, desert night. 

CHAPTER 22. EXIT THE "KING"

They bedded that night under the great vault-roof where twinkle amillion stars. 

There were three of the outlaw's men with him, and both Mcwilliams andhis friend noticed that they slept a little apart from their chief. There were other indications among the rustlers of a camp dividedagainst itself. Bannister's orders to them he contrived to make aninsult, and their obedience was as surly as possible compatible withsafety. For all of the men knew that he would not hesitate to shoot themdown in one of his violent rages should they anger him sufficiently. 

Throughout the night there was no time that at least two men were notawake in the camp. The foreman and the sheepman took turns keepingvigil; and on the other side of the fire sat one of the rustlers insilent watchfulness. To the man opposite him each of the sentinels wereoutposts of the enemy, but they fraternized after the manner of armysentries, exchanging tobacco and occasional casual conversation. 

The foreman took the first turn, and opposite him sat a one-eyed oldscoundrel who had rustle calves from big outfits ever since Wyoming wasa territory and long before. Chalkeye Dave, he was called, and sometimesmerely Chalkeye. What his real name was no man knew. Nor was his past asubject for conversation in his presence. It was known that he had beenin the Nevada penitentiary, and that he had killed a man in Arizona, butthese details of an active life were rarely resurrected. For Chalkeyewas deadly on the shoot, and was ready for it at the drop of thehat, though he had his good points too. One of these was a remarkablefondness for another member of the party, a mere lad, called by hiscompanions Hughie. Generally surly and morose, to such a degree thateven his chief was careful to humor him as a rule, when with Hughie allthe softer elements of his character came to the surface. In his roughway he was ever humorous and genial. 

Jim McWilliams found him neither, however. He declined to engage inconversation, accepted a proffer of tobacco with a silent, hostile gruntand relapsed into a long silence that lasted till his shift was ended. 

"Hate to have y'u leave, old man. Y'u're so darned good company I'llce'tainly pine for you, " the foreman suggested, with sarcasm, whenthe old man rolled up in his blankets preparatory to falling asleepimmediately. 

Chalkeye's successor was a blatant youth much impressed with his ownimportance. He was both foul-mouthed and foul-minded, so that Jimwas constrained to interrupt his evil boastings by pretending to fallasleep. 

It was nearly two o'clock when the foreman aroused his friend to takehis turn. Shortly after this the lad Hughie relieved the bragging, would-be bad man. 

Hughie was a flaxen-haired, rather good-looking boy of nineteen. In hissmall, wistful face was not a line of wickedness, though it was plainthat he was weak. He seemed so unfit for the life he was leading thatthe sheepman's interest was aroused. For on the frontier it takes astrong, competent miscreant to be a bad man and survive. Ineffectivesand weaklings are quickly weeded out to their graves or thepenitentiaries. 

The boy was manifestly under great fear of his chief, but the curlyhaired young Hermes who kept watch with him had a very winning smile anda charming manner when he cared to exert it. Almost in spite of himselfthe youngster was led to talk. It seemed that he had but lately joinedthe Teton-Shoshones outfit of desperadoes, and between the linesBannister easily read that his cousin's masterful compulsion had coercedthe young fellow. All he wanted was an opportunity to withdraw insafety, but he knew he could never do this so long as the "King" wasalive and at liberty. 

Under the star-roof in the chill, breaking day Ned Bannister talked tohim long and gently. It was easy to bring the boy to tears, but it washarder thing to stiffen a will that was of putty and to hearten a soulin mortal fear. But he set himself with all the power in him to combatthe influence of his cousin over this boy; and before the camp stirredto life again he knew that he had measurably succeeded. 

They ate breakfast in the gray dawn under the stars, and after they hadfinished their coffee and bacon horses were saddled and the trailtaken up again. It led in and out among the foot-hills sloppingupward gradually toward the first long blue line of the Shoshones thatstretched before them in the distance. Their nooning was at runningstream called Smith's Creek, and by nightfall the party was well up inthe higher foot hills. 

In the course of the day and the second night both the sheepman andhis friend made attempt to establish a more cordial relationship withChalkeye, but so far as any apparent results went their efforts werevain. He refused grimly to meet their overtures half way, even though itwas plain from his manner that a break between him and his chief couldnot long be avoided. 

All day by crooked trails they pushed forward, and as the party advancedinto the mountains the gloom of the mournful pines and frowning peaksinvaded its spirits. Suspicion and distrust went with it, camped atnight by the rushing mountain stream, lay down to sleep in the shadowsat every man's shoulder. For each man looked with an ominous eye on hisneighbor, watchful of every sudden move, of every careless word thatmight convey a sudden meaning. 

Along a narrow rock-rim trail far above a steep canon, whose walls shotprecipitously down, they were riding in single file, when the outlawchief pushed his horse forward between the road wall and his cousin'sbronco. The sheepman immediately fell back. 

"I reckon this trail isn't wide enough for two--unless y'u take theoutside, " he explained quietly. 

The outlaw, who had been drinking steadily ever since leaving the LazyD, laughed his low, sinister cackle. "Afraid of me, are y'u? Afraid I'llpush y'u off?"

"Not when I'm inside and you don't have chance. "

"'Twas a place about like this I drove for thousand of your sheep overlast week. With sheep worth what they are I'm afraid it must havecost y'u quite a bit. Not that y'u'll miss it where you are going, " hehastened to add. 

"It was very like you to revenge yourself on dumb animals. "

"Think so?" The "King's" black gaze rested on him. "Y'u'll sing adifferent song soon Mr. Bannister. It's humans I'll drive next time anddon't y'u forget it. "

"If you get the chance, " amended his cousin gently. 

"I'll get the chance. I'm not worrying about that. And about thosesheep--any man that hasn't got more sense than to run sheep in a cowcountry ought to lose them for his pig-headedness. 

"Those sheep were on the right side of the dead-line. You had to crossit to reach them. " Their owner's steady eyes challenged a denial. 

"Is that so? Now how do y'u know that? We didn't leave the herder aliveto explain that to y'u, did we?"

"You admit murdering him?"

"To y'u, dear cousin. Y'u see, I have a hunch that maybe y'u'll go joinyour herder right soon. Y'u'll not do much talking. "

The sheepman fell back. "I think I'll ride alone. "

Rage flared in the other's eye. "Too good for me, are y'u, mymealy-mouthed cousin? Y'u always thought yourself better than me. Wheny'u were a boy you used to go sneaking to that old hypocrite, yourgrandfather--"

"You have said enough, " interrupted the other sternly. "I'll not hearanother word. Keep your foul tongue off him. "

Their eyes silently measured strength. 

"Y'u'll not hear a word!" sneered the chief of the rustlers. "What willy'u do, dear cousin?

"Stand up and fight like a man and settle this thing once for all. "

Still their steely eyes crossed as with the thrust of rapiers. Thechallenged man crouched tensely with a mighty longing for the test, but he had planned a more elaborate revenge and a surer one than this. Reluctantly he shook his head. 

"Why should I? Y'u're mine. We're four to two, and soon we'll be a dozento two. I'd like a heap to oblige y'u, but I reckon I can't afford tojust now. Y'u will have to wait a little for that bumping off that'scoming to y'u. "

"In that event I'll trouble you not to inflict your society on me anymore than is necessary. "

"That's all right, too. If y'u think I enjoy your conversation y'u havegot another guess coming. "

So by mutual consent the sheepman fell in behind the blatant youth whohad wearied McWilliams so and rode in silence. 

It was again getting close to nightfall. The slant sun was throwing itsrays on less and less of the trail. They could see the shadows grow andthe coolness of night sift into the air. They were pushing on to passthe rim of a great valley basin that lay like a saucer in the mountainsin order that they might camp in the valley by a stream all of themknew. Dusk was beginning to fall when they at last reached the sauceredge and only the opposite peaks were still tipped with the sun rays. This, too, disappeared before they had descended far, and the gloom ofthe great mountains that girt the valley was on all their spirits, evenMcWilliams being affected by it. 

They were tired with travel, and the long night watches did not improvetempers already overstrained with the expectation of a crisis too longdragged out. Rain fell during the night, and continued gently in a mistydrizzle after day broke. It was a situation and an atmosphere ripe fortragedy, and it fell on them like a clap of thunder out of a sodden sky. 

Hughie was cook for the day, and he came chill and stiff-fingered to histask. Summer as it was, there lay a thin coating of ice round the edgesof the stream, for they had camped in an altitude of about nine thousandfeet. The "King" had wakened in a vile humor. He had a splittingheadache, as was natural under the circumstances and he had not left inhis bottle a single drink to tide him over it. He came cursing to thestruggling fire, which was making only fitful headway against the rainwhich beat down upon it. 

"Why didn't y'u build your fire on the side of the tree?" he growled atHughie. 

Now, Hughie was a tenderfoot, and in his knowledge of outdoor life hewas still an infant. "I didn't know--" he was beginning, when his mastercut him short with a furious tongue lashing out of all proportion to theoffense. 

The lad's face blanched with fear, and his terror was so manifest thatthe bully, who was threatening him with all manner of evils, began toenjoy himself. Chalkeye, returning from watering the horses, got backin time to hear the intemperate fag-end of the scolding. He glanced atHughie, whose hands were trembling in spite of him, and then darkly atthe brute who was attacking him. But he said not a word. 

The meal proceeded in silence except for jeers and taunts of the "King. "For nobody cared to venture conversation which might prove a match toa powder magazine. Whatever thoughts might be each man kept them tohimself. 

"Coffee, " snapped the single talker, toward end of breakfast. 

Hughie jumped up, filled the cup that was handed him and set the coffeepot back on fire. As he handed the tin cup with the coffee to the outlawthe lad's foot slipped on a piece wet wood, and the hot liquid splashedover his chief's leg. The man jumped to his feet in a rage and struckthe boy across the face with his whip once, and then again. 

"By God, that'll do for you!" cried Chalkeye from the other side of thefire, springing revolver in hand. "Draw, you coyote! I come a-shooting. "

The "King" wheeled, finding his weapon he turned. Two shots rang outalmost simultaneously, and Chalkeye pitched forward. The outlaw chiefsank to his knees, and, with one hand resting on the ground to steadyhimself fired two more shots into the twitching body on the other sideof the fire. Then he, too, lurched forward and rolled over. 

It had come to climax so swiftly that not one of them had moved exceptthe combatants. Bannister rose and walked over to the place where thebody of his cousin lay. He knelt down and examined him. When he rose itwas with a very grave face. 

"He is dead, " he said quietly. 

McWilliams, who had been bending over Chalkeye, looked up. "Here, too. Any one of the shots would have finished him. "

Bannister nodded. "Yes. That first exchange killed them both. " He lookeddown at the limp body of his cousin, but a minute before so full ofsupple, virile life. "But his hate had to reach out and make sure, eventhough he was as good as dead himself. He was game. " Then sharply to theyoung braggart, who had risen and was edging away with a face ofchalk: "Sit down, y'u! What do y'u take us for? Think this is to be amassacre?"

The man came back with palpable hesitancy. "I was aiming to go and getthe boys to bury them. My God, did you ever see anything so quick? Theydrilled through each other like lightning. "

Mac looked him over with dry contempt. "My friend, y'u're too tender fora genuwine A1 bad man. If I was handing y'u a bunch of advice it wouldbe to get back to the prosaic paths of peace right prompt. And whilewe're on the subject I'll borrow your guns. Y'u're scared stiff and itmight get into your fool coconut to plug one of us and light out. I'dhate to see y'u commit suicide right before us, so I'll just natcherallyunload y'u. "

He was talking to lift the strain, and it was for the same purpose thatBannister moved over to Hughie, who sat with his face in his hands, trying to shut out the horror of what he had seen. 

The sheepman dropped a hand on his shoulder gently. "Brace up, boy!Don't you see that the very best thing that could have happened is this. It's best for y'u, best for the rest of the gang and best for the wholecattle country. We'll have peace here at last. Now he's gone, honest menare going to breathe easy. I'll take y'u in hand and set y'u at work onone of my stations, if y'u like. Anyhow, you'll have a chance to beginlife again in a better way. "

"That's right, " agreed the blatant youth. "I'm sick of rustling themails and other folks' calves. I'm glad he got what was coming to him, "he concluded vindictively, with a glance at his dead chief and a suddenraucous oath. 

McWilliams's cold blue eye transfixed him "Hadn't you better be a littlecareful how your mouth goes off? For one thing, he's daid now; and foranother, he happens to be Mr. Bannister's cousin. "

"But--weren't they enemies?"

"That's how I understand it. But this man's passed over the range. A MANdoesn't unload his hatred on dead folks--and I expect if y'u'll studyhim, even y'u will be able to figure out that my friend measures up tothe size of a real man. "

"I don't see why if--"

"No, I don't suppose y'u do, " interrupted the foreman, turning on hisheel. Then to Bannister, who was looking down at his cousin with a stonyface: "I reckon, Bann, we better make arrangements to have the bodiesburied right here in the valley, " he said gently. 

Bannister was thinking of early days, of the time when this miscreant, whose light had just been put out so instantaneously, had played withhim day in and day out. They had attended their first school together, had played marbles and prisoners' base a hundred times against eachother. He could remember how they used to get up early in the morning togo fishing with each other. And later, when each began, unconsciously, to choose the path he would follow in already beginning to settle intoan established fact. He could see now, by looking back on trifles oftheir childhood, that his cousin had been badly handicapped in hisfight with himself against the evil in him. He had inherited depravedinstincts and tastes, and with them somewhere in him a strand ofweakness that prevented him from slaying the giants he had to oppose inthe making of a good character. From bad to worse he had gone, and herehe lay with the drizzling rain on his white face, a warning and a lessonto wayward youths just setting their feet in the wrong direction. Surelyit was kismet. 

Ned Bannister untied the handkerchief from his neck and laid it acrossthe face of his kinsman. A moment longer he looked down, then passedhis hands across his eyes and seemed to brush away the memories thatthronged him. He stepped forward to the fire and warmed his hands. 

"We'll go on, Mac, to the rendezvous he had appointed with his outfit. We ought to reach there by noon, and the boys can send a wagon back toget the bodies. "

CHAPTER 23. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING

It had been six days since the two Ned Bannisters had ridden awaytogether into the mountains, and every waking hour since that time hadbeen for Helen one of harassing anxiety. No word had yet reached her ofthe issue of that dubious undertaking, and she both longed and dreadedto hear. He had promised to send a messenger as soon as he had anythingdefinite to tell, but she knew it would be like his cousin, too, tosend her some triumphant word should he prove the victor in the strugglebetween them. So that every stranger she glimpsed brought to her asudden beating of the heart. 

But it was not the nature of Helen Messiter to sit down and give herselfup a prey to foreboding. Her active nature cried out for work to occupyher and distract her attention. Fortunately this was to be had inabundance just now. For the autumn round-up was on, and since herforeman was away the mistress of the Lazy D found plenty of work readyto her hand. 

The meeting place for the round-up riders was at Boom Creek, five milesfrom the ranch, and Helen rode out there to take charge of her owninterests in person. With her were six riders, and for the use of eachof them in addition to his present mount three extra ponies were broughtin the remuda. For the riding is so hard during the round-up that ahorse can stand only one day in four of it. At the appointed rendezvousa score of other cowboys and owners met them. Without any delay theyproceeded to business. Mr. Bob Austin, better known as "Texas, " waselected boss of the round-up, and he immediately assigned the men totheir places and announced that they would work Squaw Creek. They movedcamp at once, Helen returning to the ranch. 

It was three o'clock in the morning when the men were roused by thecook's triangle calling them to the "chuck wagon" for breakfast. It wasstill cold and dark as the boys crawled from under their blankets andsquatted round the fire to eat jerky, biscuits and gravy, and to drinkcupfuls of hot, black coffee. Before sun rose every man was at his postfar up on the Squaw Creek ridges ready to begin the drive. 

Later in the day Helen rode to the parade grounds, toward which astream of cattle was pouring down the canyon of the creek. Every gulchtributary to the creek contributed its quota of wild cows and calves. These came romping down the canyon mouth, where four picked men, with abunch of tame cows in front of them, stopped the rush of flying cattle. Lunch was omitted, and branding began at once. Every calf belonging toa Lazy D cow, after being roped and tied, was flanked with the great Dwhich indicated its ownership by Miss Messiter, and on account of therecumbent position of which letter the ranch had its name. 

It was during the branding that a boyish young fellow rode up and handedHelen a note. Her heart pumped rapidly with relief, for one glance toldher that it was in the handwriting of the Ned Bannister she loved. Shetore it open and glanced swiftly through it. 

DEAR FRIEND: Two hours ago my cousin was killed by one of his own men. I am sending back to you a boy who had been led astray by him, and itwould be a great service to me if you would give him something to dotill I return. His name is Hugh Rogers. I think if you trust him he willprove worthy of it. 

Jim and I are going to stay here a few days longer to finish thework that is begun. We hope to meet and talk with as many of the menimplicated in my cousin's lawlessness as is possible. What the resultwill be I cannot say. We do not consider ourselves in any dangerwhatever, though we are not taking chances. If all goes well we shall beback within a few days. 

I hope you are not missing Jim too much at the roundup. Sincerely, NED BANNISTER

She liked the letter because there was not a hint of the relationshipbetween them to be read in it. He had guarded her against the chance ofits falling into the wrong hands and creating talk about them. 

She turned to Hughie. "Can you ride?"

"In a way, ma'am. I can't ride like these men. " His glance indicated acow-puncher pounding past after a wild steer that had broken through thecordon of riders and was trying to get away. 

"Do you want to learn?"

"I'd like to if I had a chance, " he answered wistfully. 

"All right. You have your chance. I'll see that Mr. Austin findssomething for you to do. From to-day you are in my employ. "

She rode back to the ranch in the late afternoon, while the sun wassetting in a great splash of crimson. The round-up boss had hinted thatif she were nervous about riding alone he could find it convenient toaccompany her. But the girl wanted to be alone with her own thoughts, and she had slipped away while he was busy cutting out calves fromthe herd. It had been a wonderful relief to her to find that HER NedBannister was the one that had survived in the conflict, and her heartsang a paean of joy as she rode into the golden glow of the westeringsun. He was alive--to love and be loved. The unlived years of her futureseemed to unroll before her as a vision. She glowed with a resurgenthappiness that was almost an ecstasy. The words of a bit of verse shehad once seen--a mere scrap from a magazine that had stuck in an obscurecorner of her memory--sang again and again in her heart:

Life and love And a bright sky o'er us, And--God take care Of the waybefore us!

Ah, the way before them, before her and her romance-radiating hero!It might be rough and hilly, but if they trod it together--Her tangledthoughts were off again in another glad leap of imagination. 

The days passed somehow. She busied herself with the affairs of theranch, rode out often to the scenes of the cattle drives and watched theround-up, and every twenty-four hours brought her one day nearer tohis return, she told herself. Nora, too, was on the lookout under herlonglashed, roguish eyelids; and the two young women discussed thesubject of their lovers' return in that elusive, elliptical way commonto their sex. 

No doubt each of these young women had conjectured as to the manner ofthat homecoming and the meeting that would accompany it; but it is safeto say that neither of them guessed in her day-dreams how it actuallywas to occur. 

Nora had been eager to see something of the round-up, and as she was nohorsewoman her mistress took her out one day in her motor. The drivehad been that day on Bronco Mesa, and had finished in the natural corralmade by Bear Canon, fenced with a cordon of riders at the end openingto the plains below. After watching for two hours the busy scenes ofcutting out, roping and branding, Helen wheeled her car and started downthe canyon on their return. 

Now, a herd of wild cattle is uncertain as an April day's behavior. Under the influence of the tame valley cattle among which they aredriven, after a little milling around, the whole bunch may gentle almostimmediately, or, on the other hand, it may break through and go crashingaway on a wild stampede at a moment's notice. Every experienced cowmanknows enough to expect the unexpected. 

At Bronco Mesa the round-up had proceeded with unusual facility. Scoresof wiry, long-legged steers had drifted down the ridges or gulches thatled to the canon; and many a cow, followed by its calf, had stumbledforward to the herd and apparently accepted the inevitable. But beforeHelen Messiter had well started out of the canyon's mouth the situationchanged absolutely. 

A big hill steer, which had not seen a man for a year, broke throughthe human corral with a bellow near a point where Reddy kept guard. Thepuncher wheeled and gave chase, Before the other men could close theopening a couple of two-year-olds seized the opportunity and followedits lead. A second rider gave chase, and at once, as if some imp ofmischief had stirred them, fifty tails went up in wild flight. Anotherminute and the whole herd was in stampede. 

Down the gulch the five hundred cattle thundered toward the motor car, which lay directly in their path. Helen turned, appreciated the danger, and put the machine at its full speed. The road branched for a spaceof about fifty yards, and in her excitement she made the mistake ofchoosing the lower, more level, one. Into a deep sand bed they plowed, the wheels sinking at every turn. Slower and slower went the car;finally came to a full stop. 

Nora glanced back in affright at the two hundred and fifty tons of beefthat was charging wildly toward them. "What shall we do?" she gasped, and clambered to the ground. 

"Run!" cried Helen, following her example and scudding for the sidesof the canyon, which here sloped down less precipitately than at otherpoints. But before they had run a dozen steps each of them was awarethat they could not reach safety in time to escape the hoofs rushingtoward them so heavily that the ground quaked. 

"Look out!" A resonant cry rang out above the dull thud of thestampeding cattle that were almost upon them. Down the steep sides ofthe gorge two riders were galloping recklessly. It was a race for lifebetween them and the first of the herd, and they won by scarce more thana length. Across the sand the horses plowed, and as they swept pastthe two trembling young women each rider bent from the saddle withoutslackening speed, and snatched one almost from under the very hoofs ofthe leaders. 

The danger was not past. As the horses swerved and went forward with therush Helen knew that a stumble would fling not only her and the man whohad saved her, but also the horse down to death. They must contriveto hold their own in that deadly rush until a way could be found ofescaping from the path of the living cyclone that trod at their heels, galloped beside them, in front, behind. 

For it came to her that the horse was tiring in that rush through thesand with double weight upon its back. 

"Courage!" cried the man behind her as her fearful eyes met his. 

As he spoke they reached the end of the canyon and firm groundsimultaneously. Helen saw that her rescuer had now a revolver in hishand, and that he was firing in such a way as to deflect the leadersto the left. At first the change in course was hardly perceptible, butpresently she noticed that they were getting closer to the outskirts ofthe herd, working gradually to the extreme right, edging inch by inch, ever so warily, toward safety. Going parallel to their course, running neck and neck with the cow pony, lumbered a great dun steer. Unconsciously it blocked every effort of the horseman to escape. He hadone shot left in his revolver, and this time he did not fire into theair. It was a mighty risk, for the animal in falling might staggeragainst the horse and hunt them all down to death. But the man took itwithout apparent hesitation. Into the ear of the bullock he sent thelead crashing. The brute stumbled and went down head over heels. Itsflying hoofs struck the flanks of the pony, but the bronco stuck to itsfeet, and next moment staggered out from among the herd stragglers andcame to halt. 

The man slid from its back and lifted down the half-fainting girl. Sheclung to him, white a trembling. "Oh, it was horrible, Ned!" She couldstill look down in imagination upon the sea of dun backs that swayed andsurged about them like storm-tossed waves. 

"It was a near thing, but we made it, girl. So did Jim. He got outbefore we did. It's all past now. You can remember it as the mostexciting experience of your life. "

She shuddered. "I don't want to remember it at all. " And so shaken wasshe that she did not realize that his arm was about her the while shesobbed on his shoulder. 

"A cattle stampede is a nasty thing to get in front of. Never mind. It'sdone with now and everybody's safe. "

She drew a long breath. "Yes, everybody's safe and you are back home. Why didn't you come after your cousin was killed?"

"I had to finish my work. "

"And DID you finish it?"

"I think we did. There will be no more Shoshone gang. It's members havescatted in all directions. "

"I'm glad you stayed, then. We can live at peace now. " And presently sheadded: "I knew you would not come back until you had done what you setout to do. You're very obstinate, sir. Do you know that?"

"Perseverance, I call it, " he smiled, glad to see that she wasrecovering her lightness of tone. 

"You don't always insist on putting your actions in the most favorablelight. Do you remember the first day I ever saw you?"

"Am I likely ever to forget it?" he smiled fondly. 

"I didn't mean THAT. What I was getting at was that you let me go awayfrom you thinking you were 'the king. ' I haven't forgiven you entirelyfor that. "

"I expect y'u'll always have to be forgiving me things. "

"If you valued my good opinion I don't see how you could let me gowithout telling me. Was it fair or kind?"

"If y'u come to that, was it so fair and kind to convict me so promptlyon suspicion?" he retaliated with a smile. 

"No, it wasn't. But--" She flushed with a divine shyness. "But I lovedyou all the time, even when they said you were a villain. "

"Even while y'u believed me one?"

"I didn't. I never would believe you one--not deep in my heart. Iwouldn't let myself. I made excuses for you--explained everything tomyself. "

"Yet your reason told y'u I was guilty. "

"Yes, I think my mind hated you and my heart loved you. "

He adored her for the frank simplicity of her confession, that out ofthe greatness of her love she dared to make no secret of it to him. Direct as a boy, she was yet as wholly sweet as the most retiring girlcould be. 

"Y'u always swamp my vocabulary, sweetheart. I can't ever tell y'u--lifewouldn't be long enough--how much I care for you. "

"I'm glad, " she said simply. 

They stood looking at each other, palms pressed to palms in meetinghands, supremely happy in this miracle of love that had befallen them. They were alone--for Nora and Jim had gone into temporary eclipse behinda hill and seemed in no hurry to emerge--alone in the sunshine with thiswonder that flowed from one to another by shining eyes, by finger touch, and then by meeting lips. He held her close, knew the sweet delight ofcontact with the supple, surrendered figure, then released her as shedrew away in maidenly reserve. 

"When shall we be married, Helen? Is the early part of next week toolate?" he asked. 

Still blushing, she straightened her hat. "That's ridiculous, sir. Ihaven't got used to the thought of you yet. "

"Plenty of time for that afterward. Then we'll say next week if thatsuits y'u. "

"But it doesn't. Don't you know that it is the lady's privilege to namethe day? Besides, I want time to change my mind if I should decide to. "

"That's what I'm afraid of, " he laughed joyfully. "So I have to insiston an early marriage. "

"Insist?" she demurred. 

"I've been told on the best of authority that I'm very obstinate, " hegayly answered. 

"I have a mind of my own myself. If I ever marry you be sure I shallname the day, sir. "

"Will y'u marry me the day Nora does Jim?"

"We'll see. " The eyes slanted at him under the curved lashes, teased himdelightfully. "Did Nora tell you she was going to marry Jim?"

Bannister looked mildly hurt. "My common sense has been telling it to mea month. "

"How long has your common sense been telling you about us?"

"I didn't use it when I fell in love with y'u, " he boldly laughed. 

"Of all things to say!"