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Wyoming, a Story of the Outdoor West ............................................................................................................1

William MacLeod Raine ..........................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER 1. A DESERT MEETING....................................................................................................1

CHAPTER 2. THE KING OF THE BIG HORN COUNTRY................................................................8

CHAPTER 3. AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED.............................................................14

CHAPTER 4. AT THE LAZY D RANCH ............................................................................................17

CHAPTER 5. THE DANCE AT FRASER'S........................................................................................25

CHAPTER 6. A PARTY CALL ............................................................................................................30

CHAPTER 7. THE MAN FROM THE SHOSHONE FASTNESSES.................................................38

CHAPTER 8. IN THE LAZY D HOSPITAL.......................................................................................43

CHAPTER 9. MISS DARLING ARRIVES ..........................................................................................47

CHAPTER 10. A SHEPHERD OF THE DESERT ...............................................................................55

CHAPTER 12. MISTRESS AND MAID ..............................................................................................61

CHAPTER 13. THE TWO COUSINS..................................................................................................67

CHAPTER 14. FOR THE WORLD'S CHAMPIONSHIP....................................................................72

CHAPTER 15. JUDD MORGAN PASSES..........................................................................................77

CHAPTER 16. HUNTING BIG GAME...............................................................................................83

CHAPTER 17. RUN TO EARTH.........................................................................................................86

CHAPTER 18. PLAYING FOR TIME.................................................................................................89

CHAPTER 19. WEST POINT TO THE RESCUE...............................................................................97

CHAPTER 20. TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE .................................................................................102

CHAPTER 21. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS ..............................................................................................105

CHAPTER 22. EXIT THE "KING"....................................................................................................112

CHAPTER 23. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING.............................................................117

An automobile shot out from a gash in the hills and slipped swiftly down to the butte. Here it came to a halt

on the white, dusty road, while its occupant gazed with eager, unsated eyes on the great panorama that

stretched before her. The earth rolled in waves like a mighty sea to the distant horizon line. From a wonderful

blue sky poured down upon the land a bath of sunbeat. The air was like wine, pure and strong, and above the

desert swam the rare, untempered light of Wyoming. Surely here was a peace primeval, a silence unbroken

It was all new to her, and wonderfully exhilarating. The infinite roll of plain, the distant shining mountains,

the multitudinous voices of the desert drowned in a sunlit sea of spacethey were all details of the situation

And while she breathed deeply the satisfaction of it, an exploding rifle echo shattered the stillness. With

excited sputtering came the prompt answer of a fusillade. She was new to the West; but some instinct

stronger than reason told the girl that here was no playful puncher shooting up the scenery to ventilate his

exuberance. Her imagination conceived something more deadly; a sinister picture of men pumping lead in a

grim, closelipped silence; a lusty plainsman, with murder in his heart, crumpling into a lifeless heap, while

So the girl imagined the scene as she ran swiftly forward through the pines to the edge of the butte bluff

whence she might look down upon the coulee that nestled against it. Nor had she greatly erred, for her first

In a semicircle, well back from the foot of the butte, half a dozen men crouched in the cover of the

sagebrush and a scattered group of cottonwoods. They were perhaps fifty yards apart, and the attention of

all of them was focused on a spot directly beneath her. Even as she looked, in that first swift moment of

apprehension, a spurt of smoke came from one of the rifles and was flung back from the forked pine at the

bottom of the mesa. She saw him then, kneeling behind his insufficient shelter, a trapped man making his last

>From where she stood the girl distinguished him very clearly, and under the fieldglasses that she turned on

him the details leaped to life. Tall, strong, slender, with the lean, clean build of a greyhound, he seemed as

wary and alert as a panther. The broad, soft hat, the scarlet handkerchief loosely knotted about his throat, the

gray shirt, spurs and overalls, proclaimed him a stockman, just as his dead horse at the entrance to the coulee

That he had no chance was quite plain, but no plainer than the cool vigilance with which he proposed to make

them pay. Even in the matter of defense he was worse off than they were, but he knew how to make the most

of what he had; knew how to avail himself of every inch of sagebrush that helped to render him indistinct to

One of the attackers, eager for a clearer shot, exposed himself a trifle too far in taking aim. Without any loss

of time in sighting, swift as a lightningflash, the rifle behind the forked pine spoke. That the bullet reached

its mark she saw with a gasp of dismay. For the man suddenly huddled down and rolled over on his side.

His comrades appeared to take warning by this example. The men at both ends of the crescent fell back, and

for a minute the girl's heart leaped with the hope that they were about to abandon the siege. Apparently the

man in the scarlet kerchief had no such expectation. He deserted his position behind the pine and ran back,

crouching low in the brush, to another little clump of trees closer to the bluff. The reason for this was at first

not apparent to her, but she understood presently when the men who had fallen back behind the rolling

hillocks appeared again well in to the edge of the bluff. Only by his timely retreat had the man saved himself

It was very plain that the attackers meant to take their time to finish him in perfect safety. He was surrounded

on every side by a cordon of rifles, 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 for every gun to certain death.

It was now that she heard the man who seemed to be directing the attack call 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 butte above,

and a puncher in white woolen chaps dropped back out of range and swung to the saddle upon one of the

ponies bunched in the rear. He cantered round in a wide circle and made for the butte. His purpose was

obviously to catch their victim in the unprotected rear, and fire down upon him from above.

The young woman shouted a warning, but her voice failed to carry. For a moment she stood with her hands

pressed together in despair, then turned and swiftly scudded to her machine. She sprang in, swept forward,

reached the rim of the mesa, and plunged down. Never before had she attempted so precarious a descent in

such wild haste. The car fairly leaped 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 temple beating wildly. She could do nothing, as the machine

rocked down, but hope against many chances that instant destruction might be averted.

Utterly beyond her control, the motorcar thundered down, reached the foot of the butte, and swept over a

little hill in its wild flight. She rushed by a mounted horseman in the thousandth part of a second. She was

still speeding at a tremendous velocity, but a second hill reduced this somewhat. She had not yet recovered

control of the machine, but, though her eyes instinctively followed the white road that flashed past, she again

had photographed on her brain the scene of the turbid tragedy in which 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 till her heart was in her throat, the automobile, hanging on the balance of disaster,

Her horn screamed an instant warning to the trapped man. She could not see him, and for an instant her heart

sank with the fear that they had killed him. But she saw then that they were still firing, and she continued her

By this time she was recovering control of the motor, and she dared not let her attention wander, but out of

the corner of her eye she appreciated the situation. Temporarily, out of sheer amaze at this apparition from

the blue, the guns ceased their sniping. She became aware that a light curly head, crouched low in the

sagebrush, was moving rapidly to meet her at right angles, and in doing so was approaching directly the line

of fire. She could see him dodging to and fro as he moved forward, for the rifles were again barking.

She was within two hundred yards of him, still going rapidly, but not with the same headlong rush as before,

when the curly head disappeared in the sagebrush. It was up again presently, but she could see that the man

came limping, and so uncertainly that twice he pitched forward to the ground. Incautionsly one of his

assailants ran forward with a shout the second time his head went down. Crack! The unerring rifle rang out,

As she approached, the young woman slowed without stopping, and as the car swept past Curly Head flung

himself in headlong. He picked himself up from her feet, crept past her to the seat beyond, and almost

instantly whipped his rifle to his shoulder in prompt defiance of the fire that was now converged on them.

Yet in a few moments the sound died away, for a voice midway in the crescent had shouted an amazed

The car skimmed forward over the uneven ground toward the end of the semicircle, and passed within fifty

yards of the second man from the end, the one she had picked out as the leader of the party. He was a black,

swarthy fellow in plain leather chaps and blue shirt. As they passed he took a long, steady aim.

"Duck!" shouted the man beside her, and dragged her down on the seat so that his body covered hers.

"Near thing," her companion said coolly. He looked back at the swarthy man and laughed softly. "Some day

Yet a few wheelturns and they had dipped forward out of range among the great land waves that seemed to

stretch before them forever. The unexpected had happened, and she had achieved a rescue in the face of the

"Hurt badly?" the girl inquired briefly, her darkblue eyes meeting his as frankly as those of a boy.

"I just got a telegram from my ankle saying there was a cargo of lead arrived there unexpected," he drawled

"No more than is needful to keep my memory jogged up. It's a sort of a forgetmenot souvenir. For a good

Her dark glance swept him searchingly. She disapproved the assurance of his manner even while the youth in

her applauded his reckless sufficiency. His gay courage held her unconsenting admiration even while she

resented it. He was a trifle too much at his ease for one who had just been snatched from dire peril. Yet even

in his insouciance there was something engaging; something almost of distinction.

Mirth bubbled in his gray eyes. "I gathered, ma'am, that they wanted to collect my scalp."

He seemed to reproach himself. "Now how could I be so neglectful? I clean forgot to ask."

"Yes, ma'am, plumb ridiculous. My only excuse is that they began scattering lead so sudden I didn't have

time to ask many 'Whyfors.' I reckon we'll just have to call it a Wyoming difference of opinion," he

"I got so much else to tell y'u that's a heap more important," he laughed. "Y'u see, I'm enjoyin' my first

automobile ride. It was certainly thoughful of y'u to ask me to go riding with y'u, Miss Messiter."

He gave the low laugh that always seemed to suggest a private source of amusement of his own. "I

suspicioned that might be your name when I say y'u come asailin' down from heaven to gather me up like

"Well, ma'am, I happened to drift in to Gimlet Butte two or three days ago, and while I was up at the depot

looking for some freight a train sashaid in and side tracked a flat car. There was an automobile on that car

addressed to Miss Helen Messiter. Now, automobiles are awful seldom in this country. I don't seem to

"I know y'u have just fallen heir to the Lazy D. They say y'u are a schoolmarm, but I don't believe it."

He surveyed her with his smile audacious, let his amused eyes wander down from the mobile face with the

wildrose bloom to the slim young figure so long and supple, then serenely met her frown.

" No? Are you the owner of a composite photograph of the teachers of the country?"

He enjoyed again his private mirth. "I should like right well to have the pictures of some of them."

She glanced at him sharply, but he was gazing so innocently at the purple Shoshones in the distance that she

"You are right. My name is Helen Messiter," she said, by way of stimulating a counter fund of information.

For, though she was a young woman not much given to curiosity, she was aware of an interest in this spare,

"Glad to meet y'u, Miss Messiter," he responded, and offered his firm brown hand in Western fashion.

But she observed resentfully that he did not mention his own name. It was impossible to suppose that he

knew no better, and she was driven to conclude that he was silent of set purpose. Very well! If he did not

want to introduce himself she was not going to urge it upon him. In a businesslike manner she gave her

"Yes, ma'am. I reckon I never was more glad to death to meet a lady than I was to meet up with y'u," he

continued, cheerily. "Y'u sure looked good to me as y'u come afoggin' down the road. I fair had been

yearnin' for company but was some discouraged for fear the invitation had miscarried." He broke off his

sardonic raillery and let his level gaze possess her for a long moment. "Miss Messiter, I'm certainly under an

"It isn't a personal matter at all," she assured him, with a touch of impatient hauteur.

In spite of her healthy young resentment she laughed at the way in which he drawled this out, and with a

swift sweep her boyish eyes took in again his compelling devilmaycare charm. She was a tenderfoot, but

intuition as well as experience taught her that he was unusual enough to be one of ten thousand. No young

Greek god's head could have risen more superbly above the bricktanned column of the neck than this

closecropped curly one. Gray eyes, deep and unwavering and masterful, looked out of a face as brown as

Wyoming. He was got up with no thought of effect, but the tigerish litheness, the picturesque competency of

"Aren't you really hurt worse than you pretend? I'm sure your ankle ought to be attended to as soon as

"Can you tell me where the nearest ranch house is?" she asked, ignoring his diversion.

He waved a jaunty hand toward the recent battlefield. "The Lazy D lies right back of that hill. I expect,

"If you're right determined " He interrupted himself to point to the south. "Do y'u see that camelback peak

"That's it, Miss Messiter. They call those two humps the Antelope Peaks. If y'u can drop me somewhere near

"I'm not going to leave you till we reach a house," she informed him promptly. "You're not fit to walk fifty

"That's right kind of y'u, but I could not think of asking so much. My friends will find me if y'u leave me

"I hope not. I'd not likely have the luck to get another invitation right then to go riding with a friendly young

She gave him direct, cool, blackblue eyes that met and searched his. "I'm not at all sure she is friendly. I

shall want to find out the cause of 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 before bringing the ambulance into action," he

"Dear me! Is it your business to go around shooting people? That's three I happen to know that you have shot.

"Well, three is quite enoughrecently," she mimicked. "You seem to me a good deal of a desperado."

"Don't say 'Yes, ma'am,' like that, as if it didn't matter in the least whether you are or not," she ordered.

"Oh!" She broke off with a gesture of impatience at his burlesque of obedience. "You know what I

There was a gleam of irrepressible humor in the bold eyes. "Your cowpunchers, ma'am."

"And you say that you shot one of my men yesterday?" He could see her getting ready for a declaration of

"That's a long story, Miss Messiter. It wouldn't be square for me to get my version in before your boys. Y'u

ask them." He permitted himself a genial smile, somewhat ironic. "I shouldn't wonder but what they'll give

"In the penitentiary. Yes, sir!" A moment later the question that was in her thoughts leaped hotly from her

She had flicked him on the raw at last. Something that was near to pain rested for a second in his eyes.

"Murder is a hard name, ma'am. And I didn't say he was daid, or any of the three," came his gentle answer.

"The way you act, a person might think you one of Ned Bannister's men," she told him, scornfully.

She repented her a little at a charge so unjust. "If you are not ashamed of your name why are you so loath to

Like the light from a snuffed candle the boyish recklessness had gone out of his face. His jaws were set like a

"Ned Bannister, the outlaw," she let slip, and was aware of a strange sinking of the heart.

It seemed to her that something sinister came to the surface in his handsome face. "I reckon we might as well

Two months before this time Helen Messiter had been serenely teaching a second grade at Kalamazoo,

Michigan, notwithstanding the earnest efforts of 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 their plaint. "Any spinster can

teach kids CAT, Cat, but only one in several thousand can be the prettiest bride in Kalamazoo." None of

them, however, had been able to drive the point sufficiently home, and it is probable that she would have

continued to devote herself to Young America if an uncle she had never seen had not died without a will and

When her lawyer proposed to put the ranch on the market Miss Helen had a word to say.

"But really, my dear young lady, it isn't at all necessary. Fact is, I've already had an offer of a hundred

"Very likely," his client interrupted, quietly. "But, you see, I don't care to sell."

"But, my dear Miss Messiter, it isn't an automobile or any other kind of toy. You must remember that it takes

a business head and a great deal of experience to make such an investment pay. I really think"

"My school ends on the fourteenth of June. I'll get a substitute for the last two months. I shall start for

The man of law gasped, explained the difficulties again carefully as to a child, found that he was wasting his

Miss Messiter had started on the eighteenth of April, as she had announced. When she reached Gimlet Butte,

the nearest railroad point to the Lazy D, she found a group of curious, weatherbeaten individuals gathered

round a machine foreign to their experience. It was on a flat car, and the general opinion ran the gamut from a

newfangled sewing machine to a thresher. Into this guessing contest came its owner with so brisk and

businesslike an energy that inside of two hours she was testing it up and down the wide street of Gimlet

Butte, to the wonder and delight of an audience to which each one of the eleven saloons of the city had

Meanwhile the young woman attended strictly to business. She had disappeared for half an hour with a suit

case into the Elk House; and when she returned in a shortskirted corduroy suit, leggings and widebrimmed

gray Stetson hat, all Gimlet Butte took an absorbing interest in the details of this delightful adventure that had

happened to the town. The population was out _en masse_ to watch her slip down the road on a trial trip.

Presently "Soapy" Sothern, drifting in on his buckskin from the Hoodoo Peak country, where for private

reasons of his own he had been for the past month a sojourner, reported that he had seen the prettiest sight in

the State climbing under a gasoline bronc with a monkeywrench in her hand. Where? Right over the hill on

the edge of town. The immediate stampede for the cow ponies was averted by a warning chugchug that

sounded down the road, followed by the appearance of a flashing whir that made the ponies dance on their

"The gasoline bronc lady sure makes a hit with me," announced "Texas," gravely. "I allow I'll rustle a job

"She ce'tainly rides herd on that machine like a champeen," admitted Soapy. "I reckon I'll drift over to the

Miss Messiter swung the automobile round in a swift circle, came to an abrupt halt in front of the hotel, and

alighted without delay. As she passed in through the half score of admirers she had won, her dark eyes swept

smilingly over assembled Cattleland. She had already met most of them at the launching of the machine from

the flat car, and had directed their perspiring energies as they labored to follow her orders. Now she nodded a

"I'm delighted to be able to contribute to the entertainment of Gimlet Butte," she said, as she swept in. For

this young woman was possessed of Western adaptation. It gave her no conscientious qualms to exchange

The Elk House did not rejoice in a private dining room, and competition strenuous ensued as to who should

have the pleasure of sitting beside the guest of honor. To avoid ill feeling, the matter was determined by a

game of freezeout, in which Texas and a mature gentleman named, from his complexion, "Beet" Collins,

were the lucky victors. Texas immediately repaired to the general store, where he purchased a new scarlet

bandanna for the occasion; also a cake of soap with which to rout the alkali dust that had filtered into every

Came supper and Texas simultaneously, the cowpuncher's face scrubbed to an apple shine. At the last

moment Collins defaulted, his nerve completely gone. Since, however, he was a thrifty soul, he sold his place

to Soapy for ten dollars, and proceeded to invest the proceeds in an immediate drunk.

During the first ten minutes of supper Miss Messiter did not appear, and the two guardians who flanked her

"She got one glimpse of that red haid of Tex and the pore lady's took to the sage," explained Yorky.

"And him scrubbed so shiny fust time since Christmas before the big blizzard," sighed Doc Rogers.

"Shucks! She ain't scared of no sawedoff, hammereddown runt like Texas, No, siree! Miss Messiter's on

the absent list 'cause she's afraid she cayn't resist the blandishments of Soapy. Did yo' ever hear about Soapy

"Forget it, Slim," advised Soapy, promptly. He had been engaged in lofty and oblivious conversation with

At this opportune juncture arrived the mistress of the "gasoline bronc," neatly clad in a simple white lawn

with blue trimmings. She looked like a gleam of sunshine in her fresh, sweet youth; and not even in her own

school room had she ever found herself the focus of a cleaner, more unstinted admiration. For the outdoors

West takes off its hat reverently to women worthy of respect, especially when they are young and friendly.

Helen Messiter had come to Wyoming because the call of adventure, the desire for experience outside of

rutted convention, were stirring her warmblooded youth. She had seen enough of life lived in a parlor, and

when there came knocking at her door a chance to know the big, untamed outdoors at first hand she had at

once embraced it like a lover. She was eager for her new life, and she set out skillfully to make these men tell

her what she wanted to know. To them, of course, it was an old story, and whatever of romance it held was

unconscious. But since she wanted 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 was necessary. She made them talk of life

on the open range, of rustlers and those who lived outside the law in the upper Shoshone country, of the

"Are there any sheep near the Lazy D ranch?" she asked, intensely interested in Soapy's tale of how cattle and

For an instant nobody answered her question; then Soapy replied, with what seemed elaborate carelessness:

"Ned Bannister runs a bunch of about twelve thousand not more'n fifteen or twenty miles from your place."

"But can't something be done? If my cows were there first I don't see what right he has to bring his sheep

The assembled company attended strictly to supper. The girl, surprised at 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

"Do we, Soapy?" grinned Texas. Yet it seemed to her his smile was not quite carefree.

"Tell Miss Messiter what yore business is, Soapy," advised Yorky from the end of the table, with a mouthful

Soapy crushed the irrepressible Yorky with a look, but that young man hit back smilingly.

"I should never have guessed it. Mr. Sothern does not LOOK like a salesman," said the girl, with a glance at

"Yes, ma'am, he's a firstclass seller of soap, is Mr. Sothern," chuckled the cowpuncher, kicking his friends

"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 know that 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 fifty cents, after a guarantee that the

soap was good? His customers rarely patronized him twice; and frequently they used bad language because

the soap wrapping was not as valuable as they had expected. This was manifestly unfair, for Mr. Sothern,

who made no claims to philanthropy, often warned them that the soap should be bought on its merits, and not

with an eye single to the premium that might or might not accompany the package.

"I started to tell you, ma'am, when that infant interrupted, that the cowmen don't aim to quit business yet a

" He don't do it twict, ma'am. Why don't you pass the fritters to Miss Messiter, Slim?"

Her innocent question seemed to ring a bell for silence; seemed to carry with it some hidden portent that

stopped idle conversation as a striking clock that marks the hour of an execution.

The smile that had been gay grew grim, and men forgot the subject of their light, casual talk. It was Sothern

that answered her, and she observed that his voice was grave, his face studiously without expression.

"So I understood, but " Her eyes traveled swiftly round the table, and appraised the sudden sense of

responsibility that had fallen on these reckless, careless frontiersmen. "I am wondering what else he is.

There was another instant silence, and again it was Soapy that lifted it. "I expaict you'll like Wyoming, Miss

Messiter; leastways I hope you will. There's a right smart of country here." His gaze went out of the open

door to the vast sea of space that swam in the fine sunset light. "Yes, most folks that ain't plumb spoilt with

"Sure she'll like it. Y'u want to get a good, easyriding hawss, Miss Messiter," advised Slim.

It occurred to her that they were all working together to drift the conversation 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 such wariness and circumspection of speech.

Her chance came half an hour later, when she stood talking to the landlady on the hotel porch in the mellow

twilight that seemed to rest on 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 of him?" she demanded, with swift

Her landlady's startled eyes went alertly round to see that they were alone. "Hush, child! You mustn't speak

Again that anxious look flashed round in the dusk. "The Bannister outfit is the worst in the land. Ned

"And you mean to tell me that everybody is afraid of himthat men like Mr. Sothern dare not say their soul

"Not so loud, child. He has spies everywhere That's the trouble. You don't know who is in with him. He's got

"He is a devil. Last year he and his hell riders swept down on Topaz and killed two bartenders just to see

"Ten times as many, but the trouble is that the honest folks can't trust each other. You see, if one of them

made a mistake and confided in the wrong manwell, some fine day he would go riding herd and would not

turn up at night. Next week, or next month, maybe, one of his partners might find a pile of bones in an arroyo.

"You MUST speak lower when you talk of him, Miss Messiter," the woman insisted. "Yes, I saw him once;

at least I think I did. Mighty few folks know for sure that they have seen him. He is a mystery, and he travels

"Two years ago at Ayr. The bank was looted that night and robbed of thirty thousand dollars. They roused the

cashier from his bed and made him give the combination. He didn't want to, and Ned Bannister"her voice

sank to a tremulous whisper"put redhot runningirons between his fingers till he weakened. It was a

moonlight nightmuch such a night as thisand after it was done I peeped through the blind of my room

and saw them ride away. He rode in front of them and sang like an angeldid it out of daredeviltry to mock

the people of the town that hadn't nerve enough to shoot him. You see, he knew that nobody would dare hurt

"What was he like?" the mistress of the Lazy D asked, strangely awed at this recital of transcendent villainy."

"'Course he was masked, and I didn't see his face. But I'd know him anywhere. He's a long, slim fellow, built

like a mountain lion. You couldn'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 shuts his dark, devil eyes and masters them without

"So he's a woman killer, too, is he? Any more outstanding inconsistencies in this versatile Jesse James?"

"He's plumb crazy about music, they say. Has a piano and plays Grigg and Chopping, and all that classical

kind of music. He went clear down to Denver last year to hear Mrs. Shoeman sing."

Helen smiled, guessing at SchumannHeink as the singer in question, and Grieg and Chopin as the

composers named. Her interest was incredibly aroused. 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 his accomplishments outstepped those of the range. But

Helen Messiter had quite determined on one thing. She was going to meet this redoubtable villain and make

up her mind for herself. Already, before she had been in Wyoming six hours, this emancipated young woman

And already she had met him. Not only met him, but saved him from the just vengeance about to fall upon

him. She had not yet seen her own ranch, had not spoken to a single one of her employees, for it had been a

part of her plan to drop in unexpected and examine the situation before her foreman had a chance to put his

best foot forward. So she had started alone from Gimlet Butte that morning in her machine, and had come

almost in sight of the Lazy D ranch houses when the battle in the coulee invited her to take a hand.

She had acted on generous impulse, and the unforeseen result had been to save this desperado from justice.

But the worst of it was that she could not find it in her heart to regret it. Granted that he was a villain,

doubledyed and beyond hope, yet he was the home of such courage, such virility, that her unconsenting

admiration went out in spite of herself. He was, at any rate, a MAN, squarejawed, resolute, implacable. In

the sinuous trail of his life might lie arson, robbery, murder, but he still held to that dynamic spark of

selfrespect that is akin to the divine. Nor was it possible to believe that those unblinking gray eyes, with the

capability of a latent sadness of despair in them, expressed a soul entirely without nobility. He had a certain

gallant ease, a certain attractive candor, that did not consist with villainy unadulterated.

It was characteristic even of her impulsiveness that Helen Messiter curbed the swift condemnation that leaped

to her lips when she knew that the man sitting beside her was the notorious bandit of the Shoshone fastnesses.

She was not in the least afraid. A sure instinct told her he was not the kind of a man of whom a woman need

have fear so long as her own anchor held fast. In good time she meant to let him have her unvarnished

opinion of him, but she did not mean it to be an unconsidered one. Wherefore she drove the machine forward

toward the camelbacked peak he had indicated, her eyes straight before her, a frown corrugating her forehead.

For him, having made his dramatic announcement, he seemed content for the present with silence. He leaned

back in the car and appreciated her with a coolness that just missed impudence. Certainly her appearance

proclaimed her very much worth while. To dwell on the long lines of her supple young body, the exquisite

throat and chin curve, was a pleasure with a thrill to it. As a physical creation, a mere innocent young animal,

he thought her perfect; attuned to a fine harmony of grace and color. But it was the animating vitality of her,

the lightness of motion, the fire and sparkle of expression that gave her the captivating charm she possessed.

"Beats a bronco for getting over the ground. Think I'll have to get one," he mused aloud.

"I might drive off some of your cows and sell them," he countered, promptly. "About how much will they

"This is only a runabout. You can get one for twelve or fourteen hundred dollars of anybody's money."

"I haven't that much with me. If you'll come over and hold up the ranch perhaps we might raise it among us,"

His mirth was genuine. "But right now I couldn't get more than how much off y'u?"

"Sixtythree dollars is all I have with me, and I couldn't give you moreNOT EVEN IF YOU PUT RED

HOT IRONS BETWEEN MY FINGERS." She gave it to him straight, her blue eyes fixed steadily on him.

Yet she was not prepared for the effect of her words. The last thing she had expected was to see the blood

wash out of his bronzed face, to see his sensitive nostrils twitch with pain. He made her feel as if she had

insulted him, as if she had been needlessly cruel. And because of it she hardened her heart. Why should she

spare him the mention of it? He had not hesitated at the shameless deed itself. Why should she shrink before

that wounded look that leaped to his fine eyes in that flash of time before he hardened them to steel?

"If that is true it would not be possible for you to understand how much I despise you."

"I don't understand at all. I don't see how you can be the man they say you are. Before I met you it was easy

to understand. But somehowI don't knowyou don't LOOK like a villain." She found herself strangely

voicing the deep hope of her heart. It was surely impossible to look at him and believe him guilty of the

things of which, he was accused. And yet 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 subject without giving him a chance to set himself right.

She flushed angrily at what she accepted as his insolence. "A man of any decency would have jumped at the

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 reckon we'll let it go at guilty."

He seemed to hang in doubt an instant, then shook his head and refused the opening.

"I expect if we changed the subject I could say a good deal for y'u," he drawled. "I never saw anything

pluckier than the way y'u flew down from the mesa and conducted the cuttingout expedition. Y'u sure

Again the angry flush touched her cheeks. "Not a bit. I would have saved you in order to have you properly

He shook his head gayly. "I'm ce'tainly going to disappoint y'u some. Your enterprising punchers may collect

He laughed softly, in the quiet, indolent fashion that would have been pleasant if it had not been at her. "It's

right kind of you to take so much interest in me. I'd most be willing to oblige by letting your boys rope me to

She stopped on the instant. Plainly she could not get rid of him too soon. "Haven't you forgot one thing?" she

"Yes, ma'am. To thank you proper for what y'u did for me." He limped gingerly 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 have to give it

She waved his thanks aside impatiently "I didn't mean that. You have forgotten to take my purse.

His gravity was broken on the instant, and his laughter was certainly delightfully fresh. "I clean forgot, but I

"I have heard a different story. But if you do remember to come, and will let us know when you expect to

He perfectly understood her to mean leaden ones, and the humorous gleam in his eye sparkled in appreciation

of her spirit. "I don't want all that fuss made over me. I reckon I'll drop in unexpected," he said.

Out of the tail of her eye she saw him bowing like an Italian opera singer, as impudently insouciant, as

gracefully graceless as any stage villain in her memory. Once again she saw him, when her machine swept

round a curve and she could look back without seeming to do so, limping across through the sage brush

toward a little hillock near the road. And as she looked the bare, curly head was inclined toward her in

Helen Messiter was a young woman very much alive, which implies that she was given to emotions; and as

her machine skimmed over the ground to the Lazy D she had them to spare. For from the first this young man

had taken her eye, and it had come upon her with a distinct shock that he was the notorious scoundrel who

was terrorizing the countryside. She told herself almost passionately that she would never have believed it if

he had not said so himself. She knew quite well that the coldness that had clutched her heart when he gave his

name had had nothing to do with fear. There had been chagrin, disappointment, but nothing in the least like

the terror she might have expected. The simple truth was that he had seemed so much a man that it had hurt

Deep in her heart she resented the conviction forced upon her. Reckless he undoubtedly was, at odds with the

law surely, but it was hard to admit that attractive personality to be the mask of fiendish cruelty and sinister

malice. And yetthe facts spoke for themselves. He had not even attempted a denial. Still there was a

mystery about him, else how was it possible for two so distinct personalities to dwell together in the same

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 her first instinctive liking. Yet it was with an odd little thrill that she ran

down again into the coulee where her prosaic life had found its first real adventure. He might be all they said,

but nothing could wipe out the facts that she had offered her life to save his, and that he had lent her his body

As she reached the hill summit beyond the coulee, Helen Messiter was aware that a rider in ungainly chaps of

white wool was rapidly approaching. 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 was instantaneous. His pony did an animated twostep

not on the programme. It took one glance at the diabolical machine, and went up on its hind legs, preliminary

to giving an elaborate exhibition of pitching. The rider indulged in vivid profanity and plied his quirt

vigorously. But the bronco, with the fear of this unknown evil on its soul, varied its bucking so effectively

that the puncher astride its hurricane deck was forced, in the language of his kind, to "take the dust."

His red head sailed through the air and landed in the white sand at the girl's feet. For a moment he sat in the

road and gazed with chagrin after the vanishing heels of his mount. Then his wrathful eyes came round to the

owner of the machine that had caused the eruption. His mouth had opened to give adequate expression to his

feelings, when he discovered anew the forgotten fact that he was dealing with a woman. His jaw hung open

for an instant in amaze; and when he remembered the unedited vocabulary he had turned loose on the world a

He stared in silence as he slowly picked himself from the ground. His red hair rose like the quills of a

porcupine above a face that had the appearance of being unfinished. Neither nose nor mouth nor chin seemed

"I was going for a doc," he explained, by way of opening his share of the conversation.

"Then perhaps you had better jump in with me and ride back to the Lazy D. I suppose that's where you came

"Are you the lady that sashaid off with Ned Bannister?" he asked presently, after he had had time to smother

successively some of his fear, wonder and delight at their smooth, swift progress.

"The boys allow you hadn't oughter have done it." Then, to place the responsibility properly on shoulders

Below them appeared the corrals and houses of a ranch nestling in a little valley flanked by hills.

"This yere's the Lazy D," announced the youth, with pride, and in the spirit of friendliness suggested a

caution. "Judd, he's some peppery. You wanter smooth him down some, seeing as he's riled up today."

"If it ain't Reddy, AND the lady with the flying machine," murmured a freckled youth named McWilliams,

emerging from the bunkhouse with a pan of water which had been used to bathe the wound of one of the

"What's that?" snapped a voice from within; and immediately its owner appeared in the doorway and bored

"Your target," she answered, quietly. "Would you like to take another shot at me?"

The freckled lad broke out into a gurgle of laughter, at which the black, swarthy man beside him wheeled

"Oh, the things I notice," returned that youth jauntily, meeting the other's anger without the flicker of an

"Y'u don't say," came the prompt, sarcastic retort. "If you're such a darned good judge of health, y'u better be

attending to some of your patients." He jerked a casual thumb over his shoulder toward the bunks on which

"I shouldn't wonder but what there might be another patient for me to attend to," snarled the foreman.

"That so? Well, turn your wolf loose when y'u get to feelin' real devilish," jeered the undismayed one,

The mistress of the Lazy D had been aware of the byplay, but she had caught neither the words nor their

import. She took the offered brown hand smilingly, for here again she looked into the frank eyes of the West,

unafraid and steady. She judged him not more than twentytwo, but the school where he had learned of life

"Glad to meet y'u, ma'am," he assured her, in the current phrase of the semiarid lands.

"I'm sure I am glad to meet YOU," she answered, heartily. "Can you tell me where is the foreman of the Lazy

He introduced with a smile the swarthy man in the doorway. "This is him ma'amMr. Judd Morgan."

"All I've got to say is that you had no business mixing up in that shootin' affair back there. Perhaps you don't

know that the man you saved is Ned Bannister, the outlaw," was his surly greeting.

"Then what d'ye meanWho are you, anyway?" His insolent eyes coasted malevolently over her.

It was ludicrous to see the change that came over the man. He had been prepared to bully her; and with a

word she had pricked the bubble of his arrogance. He swallowed his anger and got a mechanical smile in

"Glad to see you here, Miss Messiter," he said, his sinister gaze attempting to meet hers frankly "I been

"Where's yo' hawss, Reddy?" inquired a tall young man, who had appeared silently in the doorway of the

Reddy pinked violently. "I had an accident, Denver," he explained. "This lady yere she"

"Scooped y'u right off yore hawss. Y'u don't say," sympathized Mac so breathlessly that even Reddy joined in

"I got off," interposed Reddy hastily, displaying a complexion like a boiled beet.

Mac introduced Miss Messiter to such of her employees as were on hand. " Shake hands with Miss Messiter,

Missou," was the formula, the name alone varying to suit the embarrassed gentlemen in leathers. Each of

them in turn presented a huge hand, in which her little one disappeared for the time, and was sawed up and

down in the air like a pumphandle. Yet if she was amused she did not show it; and her pleasure at meeting

the simple, elemental products of the plains outweighed a great deal her sense of the ludicrous.

"Get a jump on you, then. Miss Messiter, would you like to look over the place?"

"Not now. I want to see the men that were hurt. Perhaps I can help them. Once I took a few weeks in

"Bully for you, ma'am," whooped Mac. "I've a notion those boys are sufferin' for a woman to put the

"Bring that suitcase in," she commanded Denver, in the gentlest voice he had ever heard, after she had made

From the suitcase she took a little leather medicinecase, the kind that can be bought already prepared for

use. It held among other things a roll of medicated cotton, some antiseptic tablets, and a little steel instrument

"Some warm water, please; and have some boiling on the range," were her next commands.

It was a pleasure to see her work, so deftly the skillful hands accomplished what her brain told them. In

admiring awe the punchers stood awkwardly around while she washed and dressed the hurts. Two of the

bullets had gone through the fleshy part of the arm and left clean wounds. In the case of the third man she had

to probe for the lead, but fortunately found it with little difficulty. Meanwhile she soothed the victim with

His hands clutched tightly the edges of his bunk. "That's all right, doc. You attend to roping that pill and I'll

A long sigh of relief went up from the assembled cowboys when she drew the bullet out.

"'Frisco's daid," gasped the cook, who bore the title of Wun Hop for no reason except that he was an Irishman

"He has only fainted," she said quietly, and continued with the antiseptic dressing.

When it was all over, the big, tanned men gathered at the entrance to the calf corral and expanded in

"She's a pure for fair. She grades up any old way yuh take her to the best cornfed article on the market,"

"Here, too," acquiesced another. "I got a roundup on Wind Creek to cut out them twoyearolds. If 'twas

"Right kind of y'u. Seems to me"Mac's sarcastic eye trailed around to include all those who had been

singing her praises"the new queen of this hacienda won't have no trouble at all picking a prince consort

when she 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 turtledove business, according to that hashslinger in Cheyenne. Missou might be

induced to accept if it was offered him proper; and I allow Jim ain't turned the color of Redtop's hair jest for

instance. I don't want to leave out 'Frisco and the other boys carrying Bannister's pills"

That sunburned, nonchalant youth laughed musically. "Sure thing. I'd hate to be left out. The only difference

His roving eye circled blandly round. "I stand about one show in a million. Y'u roughnecks are dead ones

With which cold comfort he sauntered away to join Miss Messiter and the foreman, who now appeared

together at the door of the ranchhouse, prepared to make a tour of the buildings and the immediate corrals.

"No'm, there ain't. Henderson's daughter would come and stay with y'u a while I reckon."

"How did y'u leave 'Frisco, ma'am?" asked Mac, by way of including himself easily.

"He's resting quietly. Unless bloodpoisoning sets in they ought all to do well."

"It's right lucky for them y'u happened along. This is the hawss corral, ma'am," explained the young man just

Judd contrived to get rid of him promptly. "Slap on a saddle, Mac, and run up the remuda so Miss Messiter

"Mebbe she'd rather ride down and look at the bunch," suggested the capable McWilliams.

As it chanced, she did prefer to ride down the pasture and look over the place from on horseback. She was in

love with her ranch already. Its spacious distances, the thousands of cattle and the horses, these picturesque

retainers who served her even to the shedding of an enemy's blood; they all struck an answering echo in her

gallant young heart that nothing in Kalamazoo had been able to stir. She bubbled over with enthusiasm, the

while Morgan covertly sneered and McWilliams warmed to the untamed youth in her.

"What about this man Bannister?" she flung out suddenly, after they had cantered back to the house when the

Her abrupt question brought again the short, tense silence she had become used to expect.

"He runs sheep about twenty or thirty miles southwest of here," explained McWilliams, in a carefully casual

"So everybody tells me, but it seems to me he spills a good deal of lead on my men," she answered

"The cattlemen got together and drew it. Your uncle was one of those that marked it off, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am. Yesterday 'Frisco come on him and one of his herders with a big bunch of them less than fifteen

miles from here. He didn't know it was Bannister, and took a potshot at him. 'Course Bannister came back at

"Didn't know it was Bannister? What difference WOULD that make?" she said impatiently.

Morgan scowled, and the young man answered his own question. "We don't any of us go out of our way

"Do you wear this for an ornament? Are you upholstered with hardware to catch the eyes of some girl?" she

asked, touching with the end of her whip the revolver in the holster strapped to his chaps.

His serene, gay smile flashed at her. "Are y'u ordering me to go out and get Ned Bannister's scalp?"

"No, I am not," she explained promptly. "What I am trying to discover is why you all seem to be afraid of one

A veil of ice seemed to fall over the boyish face and leave it chiseled marble. His unspeaking eyes rested on

"I don't know what he is, ma'am. He may be one man, or he may be a hundred. What's more, I ain't

The girl became aware that her foreman was looking at her with a wary silent vigilance sinister in its

"Now y'u're shoutin', Miss Messiter. I sure am when it comes to shootin' off my mouth about Bannister."

It struck her that the young puncher waited with a curious interest for the answer of the foreman.

"Did it look like I was afraid this mawnin', ma'am?" he asked, with narrowed eyes.

"I wasn't there," hastily put in McWilliams. "I don't go gunning for my man 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

"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 shot missed him only about six inches, and me about four."

"I see. You only shoot at women when you don't know who they are." She turned 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

more such attacks on this man Bannister. I don't care what or who he is. I don't propose to have him murdered

"I take it since yuh are giving your orders through Mac, yuh don't need me any longer for your foreman,"

"You take it right, sir," came her crisp reply. "McWilliams will be my foreman from today."

The man's face, malignant and wolfish, suddenly lost its mask. That she would 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, but I'll put it

She turned to her new foreman and found him less radiant than she could have desired. "I'm right sorry y'u

"I don't know myself just why." He hesitated before adding: "They say him and Bannister is thicker than

they'd ought to be. It's a cinch that he's in cahoots somehow with that Shoshone bunch of bad men."

"Butwhy, that's ridiculous. Only this morning he was trying to kill Bannister himself."

"That's what I don't just savvy. There's a whole lot about that business I 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 of contradiction to

"Well, here's one right off the bat, as we used to say back in the States. Bannister is a great musician, they

claim; fine singer, and all that. Now I happen to know he can't sing any more than a bellowing yearling."

"Because I heard him try it. 'Twas one day last summer when I was out cutting trail of a bunch of strays down

by Dead Cow Creek. The day was hot, and I lay down behind a cottonwood and dropped off to sleep. When I

awakened it didn't take me longer'n an hour to discover what had woke me. Somebody on the other side of

the creek was trying to sing. It was ce'tainly the limit. Pretty soon he come out of the brush and I seen it was

"No, he'd just quit. He caught sight of my pony grazing, and hunted cover real prompt."

"It might, but it wasn't. Y'u see, I'd followed him through the bush by his song, and he showed up the moment

A sudden hope flamed up like tow in her heart. Perhaps, after all, Ned Bannister was not the leader of the

outlaws. Perhaps somebody else was masquerading in his name, using Bannister's unpopularity as a shield to

cover his iniquities. Still, this was an unlikely hypothesis, she had to admit. For why should he allow his good

name to be dragged in the dust without any effort to save it? On a sudden impulse the girl confided her doubt

"You don't suppose there can be any mistake, do you? Somehow I can't think him as bad as they say. He

"Same here," agreed the new foreman. "First off when I saw him my think was, 'I'd like to have that man

backing my play when I'm sitting in the game with Old Man Hard Luck reaching out for my blue chips.'"

"I've seen them that did, but, gen'rally speaking, tongues are a heap likelier to get tangled with the truth. But I

reckon there ain't any doubt about Bannister. He's known over all this Western country."

He was a young man of a brick red countenance and he wore loosely round his neck the best polka dot silk

handkerchief that could be bought in Gimlet Butte, also such gala attire as was usually reserved only for

events of importance. Sitting his horse carelessly in the plainsman's indolent fashion, he asked his question of

He of the polka dot kerchief did not appear quite satisfied. His glance wandered toward the house, as it had

"Y'u bet this dance is ace high, Mac. Fancy costumes and masks. Y'u can rent the costumes over to Slauson's

for three per. Texas, he's going to call the dances. Music from Gimlet Butte. Y'u want to get it tucked away in

your thinker that this dance ain't on the order of culls. No, sirree, it's cornfed."

Slim's glance took in the ranchhouse again. He had ridden twentythree miles out of his way to catch a

glimpse of the newly arrived mistress of the Lazy D, the report of whose good looks and adventures had

traveled hand in hand through many canons even to the heart of the Tetons. It had been on Skunk Creek that

he had heard of her three days before, and now he had come to verify the tongue of rumor, to see her quite

casually, of course, and do his own appraising. It began to look as if he were going to have to ride off without

He nodded toward the house, turning a shade more purple than his native choleric hue. "Y'u want to bring

your boss with y'u, Mac. We been hearing a right smart lot about her and the boys would admire to have her

present. It's going to be strictly according to Hoyleno roughhouse plays go, y'understand."

"I'll speak to her about it." Mac's deep amusement did not reach the surface. He was quite well aware that

Slim was playing for time and that he was too bashful to plump out the desire that was in him. "Great the way

"Sure. Well, I'll be movin' along to Slauson's. I just drapped in on my way. Thought mebbe y'u hadn't heard

"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

Slim's purple deepened again. "Y'u go to grass, Mac. I don't aim to ask y'u to be my valley yet awhile."

"C'rect. I was just wondering do all the Triangle Bar boys ride the range so handsome?"

"Don't y'u worry about the Triangle Bar boys," advised the embarrassed Slim, gathering up his bridle reins.

With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he rode away. When he reached the corral he

looked back again. His gaze showed him the boyish foreman doubled up with laughter; also the sweep of a

"Now, ain't that hoodooed luck?" the aggrieved rider of the Triangle Bar outfit demanded of himself, "I made

"About these boys that drop in so frequent on business these days. Funny how fond they're getting of the

Lazy D. There was that stock detective happened in yesterday to show how anxious he was about your cows.

Then the two Willow Creek riders that wanted a job punching for y'u, not to mention mention the Shoshone

"The lad riding down the road on that piebald pinto. He come twenty miles out of his way, plumb dressed for

a wedding, all to give me an invite to a dance at Fraser's. Y'u would call that real thoughtful of him, I expect."

She gayly sparkled. "A real ranch dancethe kind you have been telling me about. Are Ida and I invited?"

She laughed softly, merry eyes flashing swiftly at him. "How gallant you Westerners are, even though you do

His young laugh echoed hers. "Burlesque nothing. My life wouldn't be worth a thing if I went alone. Honest,

"Since the ranch can't afford to lose its foreman Ida and I will go along," she promised. "That is, if it is

"Proper. Good gracious, ma'am! Every lady for thirty miles round will be there, from six months old to eighty

The foreman drove her to Fraser's in a surrey with Ida Henderson and one of the Lazy D punchers on the

back seat. The drive was over twentyfive miles, but in that silent starry night every mile was a delight. Part

of the way led through a beautiful canon, along the rocky mountain road of which the young man guided the

rig with unerring skill. Beyond the gorge the country debouched into a grassy park that fell away from their

The strains of the fiddle and the thumping of feet could be heard as they drove up. Already the rooms seemed

to be pretty well filled, as Helen noticed when they entered. Three sets were on the floor for a quadrille and

the house shook with the energy of the dancers. On benches against the walls were seated the spectators, and

"Alemane left. Right hand t'yer pardner and grand right and left. Evvrybody 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 cowboys falling back

In the bedroom where she left her wraps the mistress of the Lazy D found a dozen or more infants and several

of their mothers. In the kitchen were still other women and babies, some of the former very old and of the

latter very young. A few of the babies were asleep, but most of them were still very much alive to this scene

As soon as she emerged into the general publicity of the dancing room her foreman pounced upon Helen and

led her to a place in the head set that was making up. The floor was rough, the music jerky and uncertain, the

quadrilling an exhibition of joyous and awkward abandon; but its picturesque lack of convention appealed to

the girl from Michigan. It rather startled her to be swung so vigorously, but a glance about the room showed

that these humorouseyed Westerners were merely living up to the duty of the hour as they understood it.

At the close of the quadrille Helen found herself being introduced to "Mr. Robins," alias Slim, who drew one

"I enjoy to meet y'u, ma'am," he assured her, and supplemented this with a request for the next dance, after

Nearly all the dances were squares, as few of those present understood the intricacies of the waltz and

twostep. Hence it happened that the proficient McWilliams secured three round dances with his mistress.

It was during the lunch of sandwiches, cake and coffee that Helen perceived an addition to the company. The

affair had been advertised a costume ball, but most of those present had construed this very liberally. She

herself, to be sure, had come as Mary Queen of Scots, Mac was arrayed in the scarlet tunic and tightfitting

breeches of the Northwest Mounted Police, and perhaps eight or ten others had made some attempt at

representing some one other than they were. She now saw another, apparently a new arrival, standing in the

doorway negligently. A glance told her that he was made up for a road agent and that his revolvers and mask

Slowly his gaze circled the room and came round to her. His eyes were hard as diamonds and as flashing, so

that the impact of their meeting looks seemed to shock her physically. He was a tall man, swarthy of hue, and

he carried himself with a light ease that looked silken strong. Something in the bearing was familiar yet not

quite familiar either. It seemed to suggest a resemblance to somebody she knew. And in the next thought she

The man spoke to Fraser, just then passing with a cup of coffee, and Helen saw the two men approach. The

"Shake hands with Mr. Holloway, Miss Messiter. He's from up in the hill country and he rode to our frolic.

Fraser departed on his destination with the coffee and the newcomer sat down on the bench beside her.

"Quite, but I'm surprised so few came in costume. Why didn't you? But I suppose you had your reasons."

She swept him casually with an indifferent glance. "And isn't that what you are in real life?"

"You won't mind if I forget and call you Mr. Bannister instead of Mr. Holloway?"

She felt sure of it, and yet there was a lurking doubt. For there was in his manner something indescribably

more sinister than she had felt in him on that occasion when she had saved his life. Then a debonair

recklessness had been the outstanding note, but now there was something ribald and wicked in him.

"Since y'u put it as a question, common politeness demands an answer. Ned Bannister is my name."

"Y'u've ce'tainly got the teacher habit of asking questions," he replied with a laugh that was a sneer.

A shadow fell across them and a voice said quietly, "She didn't wait to ask any when she saved your life

The shadow was Jim McWilliams's, and its owner looked down at the man beside the girl with steady, hostile

"Yes, seh, it is. The boys don't quite like seeing your hardware so prominent at a social gathering. In this

community guns don't come into the house at a ranch dance. I'm a committee to mention the subject and to

"There's all outdoors ready to receive y'u, seh. It would be a pity to stay in the one spot where your welcome's

"Ce'tainly, but if y'u decide that way y'u better step out on the porch and talk it over with us where there ain't

"Isn't this a costume dance? What's the matter with my guns? I'm an outlaw, ain't I?"

"I don't know whether y'u are or not, seh. If y'u say y'u are we're ready 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 were getting so gay with"

"I can guess, Mr. Holloway, the kind of an outfit y'u freight with, and I expect I could put a handle to another

"I don't dare. especially among so many ladies," came McWilliams's jaunty answer.

The eyes of the two men gripped, after which Holloway swung on his heel and swaggered defiantly out of the

Presently there came the sound of a pony's feet galloping down the road. It had not yet died away when Texas

The dance was on again full swing. The fiddlers were tuning up and couples gathering for a quadrille. Denver

came to claim Miss Messiter for a partner. Apparently even the existence of the vanished Holloway was

forgotten. But Helen remembered it, and pondered over the affair long after daylight had come and brought

The mistress of the Lazy D, just through with her morning visit to the hospital in the bunkhouse, stopped to

read the gaudy poster tacked to the wall. It was embellished with the drawing of a placid rider astride the

embodiment of fury incarnate, under which was the legend: "Stick to Your Saddle."

A sudden thud of pounding hoofs, a snatch of ragtime, and her foreman swept up in a cloud of white dust. His

pony came from a gallop to an instant halt, and simultaneously Mac landed beside her, one hand holding the

widebrimmed hat he had snatched off in his descent, the other hitched by a casual thumb to the belt of his

Mac blushed. He was still young enough to take pride in his picturesque regalia, to prefer the dramatic way of

doing a commonplace thing. But, though he liked this girl's trick of laughing at him with a perfectly grave

face out of those dark, longlashed eyes, he would have liked it better if sometimes they had given back the

"I suppose they got you to sit for this picture;" and she indicated the poster 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

"I reckon Denver brought it from Slauson's. He was ridin' that country yesterday, and as the boys was out of

"Then I'll be able to borrow only a thousand dollars from you to help buy that bunch of young cows we were

"Only a thousand," he grinned. "And it ain't a cinch I'll win. There are three or four straightup riders on this

"Well, you had better get first this year. We'll have to show them the Lazy D hasn't gone to sleep."

"It's a scrub bunch. We want to get rid of them, anyway. But you're the doctor," he concluded slangily.

She thought a moment. "We'll let him have them, but don't make the cut till I come back. I'm going to ride

His admiring eyes followed her as she went toward the pony that was waiting saddled with the rein thrown to

the ground. She carried her slim, lithe figure with a grace, a lightness, that few women could have rivaled.

When she had swung to the saddle, she halfturned in her seat to call an order to the foreman.

"I think, Mac, you had better run up those horses from Eagle Creek. Have Denver and Missou look after

"Sure, ma'am," he said aloud; and to himself: "She's ce'tainly a thoroughbred. Does everything well she

tackles. I never saw anything like it. I'm a Chink if she doesn't run this ranch like she had been at 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. I reckon the pinto is like the rest of usclean mashed." He put his arms on the corral fence

and grew introspective. "Blamed if I know what it is about her. 'Course she's a winner on looks, but that ain't

it alone. I guess it's on account of her being such a game little gentleman. When she turns that smile loose on

a fellowwell, there's sure sunshine in the air. And gamewhy, Ned Bannister ain't gamer himself."

McWilliams had climbed lazily to the top board of the fence. He was an energetic youth, but he liked to do

his thinking at his ease. Now, as his gaze still followed its lodestar, he suddenly slipped from his seat and ran

forward, pulling the revolver from its scabbard as he ran. Into his eyes had crept a tense alertness, the shining

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 swung in casually at the gate of the short stable lane, and was due to meet

Miss Messiter in about ten seconds. So far good enough. A dozen travelers dropped in every day, but this

From the stable door a shot rang out. Bannister ducked and shouted genially: "Try again."

But Helen Messiter whirled her pony as on a halfdollar, and charged down on the stable.

The horsewrangler showed embarrassment. He had found time only to lean the rifle against the wall.

"Then you may call for your time. When I give my men orders I expect them to obey."

"I wouldn't 'a' shot if I'd knowed y'u was so near him. Y'u was behind that summer kitchen," he explained

"You only expect to obey orders when I'm in sight. Is that it?" she asked 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. Do you

"Yes, ma'am. I hadn't ought to have did it, but when I seen Bannister it come over me I owed him a pill for

the one he sent me last week down in the 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 will drive you tomorrow."

When she returned to her unexpected guest, Helen found him in conversation with McWilliams. The latter's

gun had found again its holster, but his brown, graceful hand hovered close to its butt.

"Seems like a long time since the Lazy D has been honored by a visit from Mr. Bannister," he was saying,

"That's right. So I have come to make up for lost time," came Bannister'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 these two youths covered a stark courage that might leap to life any moment.

"We'll be pleased to show you over the place, Mr. Bannister. As it happens, we are close to the hospital. Shall

Her cool, silken defiance earned a smile from the visitor. "All your cases doing well, ma'am?"

"It's very kind of you to ask. I suppose you take an interest because they are YOUR cases, too, in a way of

"It must be right pleasant to be nursed by Miss Messiter. I reckon the boys are grateful to me for scattering

"Shouldn't wonder. But, looking y'u over casual, it occurs to me he might get sick of his job befo' he turned

y'u loose," McWilliams admitted, with a glance of admiration at the clean power showing in the other's

Nor could either the foreman or his mistress deny the tribute of their respect to the bravado of this scamp who

sat so jauntily his seat regardless of what the next moment might bring forth. Three wounded men were about

the place, all presumably quite willing to get a clean shot at him in the open. One of them had taken his

chance already, and missed. Their visitor had no warrant for knowing that a second might not any instant try

his luck with better success. Yet he looked every inch the man on horseback, no whit disturbed, not the least

conscious of any danger. Tall, spare, broad shouldered, this berrybrown young man, crowned with

closecropped curls, sat at the gates of the enemy very much at his insolent case.

"I thought perhaps you had come to get my purse and the sixtythree dollars," she derided.

"No, ma'am; nor yet to get that bunch of cows I was going to rustle from you to buy an auto. I came to ask

The audacity of it took her breath. Of all the outrageous things she had ever heard, this was the cream. An

acknowledged outlaw, engaged in feud with 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 go riding with him. The magnificence of his bravado almost obliterated its

impudence. Of course she would not think of going. The idea! But her eyes glowed with appreciation of his

courage, not the less because the consciousness of it was so conspicuously absent from his manner.

"I think not, Mr. Bannister" and her face almost imperceptibly stiffened. "I don't go riding with strangers, nor

with men who shoot my boys. And I'll give you a piece of advice, sir. That is, to burn the wind back to your

home. Otherwise I won't answer for your life. My punchers don't love you, and I don't know how long I can

keep them from you. You're not wanted here any more than you were at the dance the other evening."

McWilliams nodded. "That's right. Y'u better roll your trail, seh; and if y'u take my advice, you'll throw

gravel lively. I seen two of the boys cutting acrost that pasture five minutes ago. They looked as if they might

be haided to cut y'u off, and I allow it may be their night to howl. Miss Messiter don't want to be responsible

"Indeed!" Their visitor looked politely interested. "This solicitude for me is very touching. I observe that both

of you are carefully blocking me from the bunkhouse in order to prevent another practiceshot. If I can't

persuade you to join me in a ride, Miss Messiter, I reckon I'll go while I'm still unpunctured." He bowed, and

"I don't want to be responsible for your killing. We'll see you safe off the 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 the responsibility they felt

"I got my ride, after all," he presently chuckled. "To be sure, I wasn't expecting Mr. McWilliams to chaperon

"Would it be an added pleasure to get bumped off to kingdom come?" drawled the foreman, giving a

"Thinking of those willing boys of yours again, are you?" laughed Bannister. "They're ce'tainly a heap

prevalent with their hardware, but their hunting don't seem to bring home any meat."

"By the way, how IS your ankle, Mr. Bannister? I forgot to ask." This shot from the young woman.

He enjoyed it with internal mirth. "They did happen on the target that time," he admitted. "Oh, it's getting

They swept past the first dangerous grove of cottonwoods in safety, and rounded the boundary fence corner.

"They're in that bunch of pines over there," said the foreman, after a single sweep of his eyes in that direction.

"Yes, I see they are. You oughtn't to let your boys wear red bandannas when they go gunning, Miss Messiter.

Helen herself could see no sign of life in the group of pines, but she knew their keen, trained eyes had found

what hers could not. Riding with one or another of her cowboys, she had often noticed how infallibly they

could read the country for miles around. A scattered patch on a distant hillside, though it might be a

halfhour's ride from them, told them a great deal more than seemed possible. To her the dark spots sifted on

that slope meant scrub underbrush, if there was any meaning at all in them. But her riders could tell not only

whether they were alive, but could differentiate between sheep and cattle. Indeed, McWilliams could nearly

always tell whether they were HER cattle or not. He was unable to explain to her how he did it. By a sort of

The pines were negotiated in safety, and on the part of the men with a carelessness she could not understand.

For after they had passed there was a spot between her shoulderblades that seemed to tingle in expectation

of a possible bullet boring its way through. But she would have died rather than let them know how she felt.

Perhaps Bannister understood, however, for he remarked casually: "I wouldn't be ambling past so leisurely if

I was riding alone. It makes a heap of difference who your company is, too. Those punchers wouldn't take a

Fifteen minutes later Helen drew up at the line corner. "We'll part company here, Mr. Bannister. I don't think

"Before we part there is something I want to say. I hold that a man has as 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 survival of 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. The buffalo and the antelope have gone, and I guess cows have got to take their 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

"Here, too," nodded her foreman. "I'm with my boss clear down the line. And as soon as she lets me turn

"I have not a doubt of it, Mr. McWilliams," returned the sheepman blithely. "In the meantime I was going to

"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 to get at is this: I'm in debt to you a heap,

Miss Messiter, and since I'm not all yellow cur, I intend to play fair with you. I have ordered my sheep back

across the deadline. You can have this range to yourself for your cattle. The fight's off so far as we personally

A hint of deeper color touched her cheeks. Her manner had been cavalier at best; for the most part frankly

hostile; and all the time the man was on an errand of goodwill. Certainly he had scored at her expense, and

"I didn't say quite that," explained the sheepman. "What I said was that I meant to keep on my side of it so far

Bannister's gay smile touched the sardonic face. "Do you invite the public to examine your hand when you sit

"You're dead right. It's none of my business what y'u do so long as y'u keep off our range," admitted the

foreman. "And next time the conversation happens on Mr. Bannister, I'll put in my little sayso that he ain't

The girl's gauntleted hand offered itself impulsively. "We can't be friends under existing circumstances, Mr.

Bannister. But that does not alter the fact that I owe you an apology. You came as a peace envoy, and one of

my men shot at you. Of course, he did not understand the reason why you came, but that does not matter. I

"Are you shaking hands with Ned Bannister the sheepman or Ned Bannister the outlaw?" asked the owner of

"With Ned Bannister the gentleman. If there is another side to him I don't know it personally."

He flushed underneath the tan, but very plainly with pleasure. "Your opinions are right contrary to Hoyle,

ma'am. Aren't you aware that a sheepman is the lowest thing that walks? Ask Mr. McWilliams."

The foreman's sentence was never finished. From a clump of bushes a 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 Miss Messiter and

her foreman. Instantly the two men slid from their horses on the farther side, dragged down the young woman

behind the cover of the broncos, and arranged the three ponies so as to give her the greatest protection

available. Somehow the weapons that garnished them had leaped to their hands before their feet touched the

"That coyote isn't one of our men. I'll back that opinion high," said McWilliams promptly.

"That's what we're going to find out pretty soon," returned Bannister grimly. "Chances are it's me he is trying

to gather. Now, I'm going to make a break for that cottonwood. When I go, you better run up a white

handkerchief and move back from the firingline. Turn Buck loose when you leave. He'll stay around and

He made a run for it, zigzagging through the sagebrush so swiftly as to offer the least certain mark possible

Meanwhile Mac had fastened the handkerchief of his mistress on the end of a switch he had picked up and

was edging out of range. His tense, narrowed gaze never left the bushclump from which the shots were

being pumped, and he was careful during their retreat to remain on the danger side of the road, in order to

And even as he murmured it, the wind of a bullet lifted his hat from his head. He picked it up and examined

it. The course of the bullet was marked 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 run for it. Lie low on the pinto's neck, with

A mile and a half farther up the road Mac reined in, and made the Indian peacesign. Two dejected figures

came over the hill and resolved themselves into punchers of the Lazy D. Each of them trailed a rifle by his

"You're a fine pair of ringtailed snorters, ain't y'u?" jeered the foreman. "Got to get gay and go projectin'

round on the shoot after y'u got your orders to stay hitched. Anything to say for yo'selves?"

"Now, Miss Messiter is going to pass it up this time, but from now on y'u don't go off on any private

massacrees while y'u punch at the Lazy D. Git that? This hyer is the last call for supper in the diningcah. If

y'u miss it, y'u'll feed at some other chuckhouse." Suddenly the drawl of his sarcasm vanished. His voice

carried the ring of peremptory command. "Jim, y'u go back to the ranch with Miss Messiter, AND KEEP

YOUR EYES OPEN. Missou, I need y'u. We're going back. I reckon y'u better hang on to the stirrup, for we

He was off at a slow lope on the road he had just come, the other man running beside the horse. Presently he

stopped, as if the arrangement were 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 the road and were cutting across the plain, as

Her troubled thoughts stayed with her even after she had reached the ranch. She was nervously excited, keyed

up to a high pitch; for she knew that out on the desert, within a mile or two of her, men were stalking each

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 but wait, after

ordering out such reinforcements as she could recruit without delay; and the inaction told upon her swift,

She had been pacing the porch, but she stopped, white as a sheet. Behind those faint explosions might lie a

sinister tragedy. Her mind projected itself into a score of imaginary possibilities. She listened, breathless in

her tensity, but no further echo of that battlefield reached her. The sun still shone warmly on brown

Wyoming. She looked down into a rolling plain that blurred in the distance from knobs and flat spaces into a

single stretch that included a thousand rises and depressions. That roll of country teemed with life, but the

steady, inexorable sun beat down on what seemed a shining, primeval waste of space. Yet somewhere in that

She wanted to scream. The very stillness mocked her. So, too, did the clicking windmill, with its monotonous

regularity. Her pony still stood saddled in the yard. She knew that her place was at home, and she fought

down a dozen times the tremendous impulse to mount and fly to the field of combat.

She looked at her watch. How slowly the minutes dragged! It could not be only five minutes since she had

looked last time. Again she fell to pacing the long west porch, and interrupted herself a dozen times to stop

"I can bear it no longer," she told herself at last, and in another moment was in the saddle plying her pinto

But before she reached the first cottonwoods she saw them coming. Her glasses swept the distant group, and

with a shiver she made out the dreadful truth. They were coming slowly, carrying something between them.

The girl did not need to be told that the object they were bringing home was their dead or wounded.

A figure on horseback detached itself from the huddle of men and galloped towards her. He was coming to

break the news. But who was the victim? Bannister or McWilliams she felt sure, by reason of the sinking

heart in her; and then it came home that she would be hard hit if it were either.

The approaching rider began to take distinct form through her glasses. As he pounded forward she recognized

him. It was the man nicknamed Denver. The wind was blowing strongly from her to him, and while he was

His answer was lost in the wind sweep, but one word of it she caught. That word was "Mac."

Though the sharpshooter's rifle cracked twice during his run for the cottonwood, the sheepman reached the

tree in safety. He could dodge through the brush as elusively as any man in Wyoming. It was a trick he had

learned on the whitewashed football gridiron. For in his buried past this man had been the noted halfback of

a famous college, and one of his specialties had been running the ball back after a catch through a broken

field of opponents. The lesson that experience had then thumped into him had since saved his life on more

Having reached the tree, Bannister took immediate advantage of the lie of 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 the

sage below. He wormed his way through the thick scrub brush to the edge of a dry creek, into the bed of

which he slid. Then swiftly, his body bent beneath the level of the bank, he ran forward in the sand. He

moved noiselessly, eyes and ears alert to aid him, and climbed the bank at a point where a live oak grew.

Warily he peeped out from behind its trunk and swept the plain for his foe. Nothing was to be seen of him.

Slowly and patiently his eyes again went over the semicircle before him, for where death may lurk behind

every foot of vegetation, every bump or hillock, the plainsman leaves as little as may be to chance. No

faintest movement could escape the sheepman's eyes, no least stir fail to apprise his ears. Yet for many

minutes he waited in vain, and the delay told him that he had to do with a trained hunter rather than a mere

reckless cowpuncher. For somewhere in the rough country before him his enemy lay motionless, every

It was the whirring flight of a startled dove that told Bannister the whereabouts of his foe. Two hundred yards

from him the bird rose, and the direction it took showed that the man must have been trailing forward from

the opposite quarter. The sheepman slipped back into the dry creek bed, retraced his steps for about a

For a long time he lay face down in the grass, his gaze riveted to the spot where he knew his opponent to be

hidden. A faint rustle not born of the wind stirred the sage. Still Bannister waited. A less experienced

plainsman would have blazed away and exposed his own position. But not this young man with the

steelwire nerves. Silent as the coming of dusk, no breaking twig or displaced brush betrayed his

Something in the clump he watched wriggled forward and showed indistinctly through an opening in the

underscrub. He whipped his rifle into position and fired twice. The huddled brown mass lurched forward and

"Wonder if I got him? Seems to me I couldn't have missed clean," thought Bannister.

A scramble of running feet tearing a path through the brush, a crouching body showing darkly for an

Bannister leaped up, ran lightly across the intervening space, and with his repeater took a potshot at the

"Missed!" he muttered, and at once gave a sharp whistle that brought his pony to him on the trot. He vaulted

to the saddle and gave chase. It was rough going, but nothing in reason can stop a cowpony. As sure footed

as a mountain goat, as good a climber almost as a cat, Buck followed the flying horseman over perilous rock

rims and across deepcut creek beds. Pantherlike he climbed up the steep creek sides without hesitation, for

the roundup had taught him never to falter at stiff going so long as his rider put him at it.

It was while he was clambering out of the sheer sides of a wash that Bannister made a discovery. The man he

pursued was wounded. Something in the manner of the fellow's riding had suggested this to him, but a drop

of blood splashed on a stone that happened to meet his eye made the surmise a certainty.

He was gaining nownot fast, almost imperceptibly, but none the less surely. He could see the man looking

over his shoulder, once, twice, and then again, with that hurried, fearful glance that measures the approach of

But the unforeseen happened. Buck stepped in the hole of a prairie dog and went down. Over his head flew

How long Ned Bannister lay unconscious he never knew. But when he came to himself it was none too soon.

What was it? Oh, yes, he had been thrown from his horse. A wave of 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

But half way to the pony he stopped. Voices, approaching by way of the bed of Dry Creek, drifted to him.

And a voice that Bannister knew, one that had a strangely penetrant, cruel ring of power through the drawl,

made answer: "Judd said before he fainted he was sure the man was Ned Bannister. I'd ce'tainly like to meet

up with my beloved cousin right now and even up a few old scores. By God, I'd make him sick before I

"I'll bet y'u would, Cap," returned the other, admiringly. "Think we'd better deploy here and beat up the

There are times when the mind works like lightning, flashes its messages on 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 explained for

His cousin had been out with a band of his cutthroats on some errand, and while returning to the fastnesses

of the Shoshone Mountains had stopped 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 to vent his anger against its mistress or some of her men. While pursuing the renegade

Bannister had stumbled into a hornet's nest, and was in imminent danger of being stung to death. Even now

The sheepman had to choose between leaving his rifle and immediate flight. The latter was such a forlorn

hope that he gave up Buck for the moment, and ran back to the place where his repeating Winchester had

fallen. Without stopping he scooped the rifle up as he passed. In his day 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 their hurried

way through the heavy brush of the creek bank came crisply to him. A voice behind shouted a warning, and

from not a hundred yards in front of him came an answering shout. Hemmed in from the fore and the rear, he

swung off at a right angle. An open stretch lay before him, but he had to take his desperate chance without

cover. Anything was better than 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 dozen steps 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 a hollow,

where he might find temporary protection in the scrub pines. And now a second marksman joined himself to

the first. But he was going fast, already had covered half the distance, and it is no easy thing to bring down a

Again the first gun spoke, and scored another miss, whereat a mocking, devilish laugh rang out in the

"Y'u boys splash a heap of useless lead around the horizon. I reckon Cousin Ned's my meat. Y'u see, I get

him in the flapper without spoiling him complete." And at the word he flung the rifle to his shoulder and fired

The running man doubled up like a cottontail, but found his feet again in an instant, though one arm hung

limp by his side. He was within a dozen feet of the hilldrop and momentary safety.

"No; he's mine." The rifle smoked once more and again the runner went down. But this time he plunged

The outlaw chief turned on his heel. "I reckon he'll not run any more today. Bring him into camp and we'll

take him along with us," he said carelessly, and walked away to his horse in the creek bed.

Two of the men started forward, but they stopped half way, as if rooted to the ground. For a galloping

horseman suddenly drew up at the very point for which they were starting. He leaped to the ground and

warned them back with his rifle. While he covered them a second man rode up and lifted Bannister to his

"Ready, Mac," he gave the word, and both horses disappeared with their riders over the brow of the hill.

When the surprised desperadoes recovered themselves and reached that point the rescuers had disappeared in

The alarm was at once given, and their captain, cursing them in a raucous bellow for their blunder, ordered

immediate pursuit. It was some little time before the trail of the fugitives was picked up, but once discovered

"We're not going to get out without swapping lead," McWilliams admitted anxiously. "I wisht y'u wasn't

hampered with that load, but I reckon I'll have to try to stand them off alone."

"We bucked into a slice of luck when I opened on his bronc mavericking around alone. Hadn't been for that

we could never have made it," said Missou, 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 on top o' that. They're beginning to pump

"I believe he's daid, anyway," said Missou presently, peering down into the white face of the unconscious

"Got to hang onto the remains, anyhow, for Miss Helen. Those coyotes are too much of the wolf breed to

"Looks like they're gittin' the aim some better," equably remarked the other a minute later, when a spurt of

"They're ce'tainly crowding us. I expaict I better send them a 'Howdedo?' so as to discourage them a few."

He took as careful aim as he could on the galloping horse, but his bullet went wide.

"They're gaining like sixty. It's my offhand opinion we better stop at that bunch of trees and argue some with

them. No use buckjumpin' along to burn the wind while they drill streaks of light through us."

"Deader'n hell," murmured Missou, as he lifted the limp body from his horse. " But I guess we'll pack what's

The leader of the pursuers halted his men just out of range and came forward 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 the loose shirt; the same effect of power and

dominance, the same clean, springy stride. The pose of the head, too, even the sweep of salient jaw, bore a

marked resemblance. But similarity ceased at the expression. For instead of frankness there lurked here that

hint of the devil of strong passion uncontrolled. He was the victim of his own moods, and in the space of an

hour one might, perhaps, read in that face cold cunning, cruel malignity, leering ribaldry, as well as the

"I reckon you're near enough," suggested Mac, when the man had approached to within a hundred feet of the

"Y'u're drawing the deadline," the other acknowledged, indolently. "It won't take ten words to tell y'u what I

want and mean to have. I'm giving y'u two minutes to hand me over the body of Ned Bannister. If y'u don't

"Y'u can't come too quick, seh. We're here ashootin', and don't y'u forget it," was McWilliams's prompt

The sinister face of the man from the Shoshones darkened. "Y'u've signed your own death warrants," he let

"The ball's about to open. Pardners for a waltz. Have a dustcutter, Mac, before she grows warm."

The puncher handed over his flask, and the other held it before his eye and appraised the contents in approved

"How!" echoed Missou, in turn, and tipped up the bottle till the liquor gurgled down his baked throat.

"He's fanning out his men so as to, get us both at the front and back door. Lucky there ain't but four of them."

"I guess we better lie back to back," proposed Missou. "If our luck's good I reckon they're going to have a gay

A few desultory shots had already been dropped among the cottonwoods, and returned by the defendants

"Glory Hallelujah! Here comes the boys splittin' down the road hellforleather. That lopsided, ringtailed

snorter of a hawssthief is gathering his wolves for a hike back to the tall timber. Feed me a cigareet, Mac. I

It was as the cowpuncher had said. Down the road a cloud of dust was sweeping toward them, in the centre

of which they made out three hardriding cowboys from the ranch. Farther back, in the distance, was another

dust whirl. The outlaw chief's hard, vigilant gaze swept over the reinforcements! and decided instantly that

the game had gone against him for the present. He whistled shrilly twice, and began a slow retreat toward the

hills. The miscreants flung a few defiant shots at the advancing cowmen, and disappeared, swallowed up in

The homeward march was a slow one, for Bannister had begun to show signs of consciousness and it was

necessary to carry him with extreme care. While they were still a mile from the ranch house the pinto and its

"Ride forward, Denver, and tell Miss Helen we're coming. Better have her get everything fixed to doctor him

soon as we get there. Give him the best show in the world, and he'll still be sailing awful close to the divide.

The voice came faintly from the improvised litter. Mac turned with a start, for he had not known that

Bannister was awake to his surroundings. The man appeared the picture of helplessness, all the lusty power

and vigor stricken out of him; but his indomitable spirit still triumphed over the physical collapse, for as the

foreman looked a faint smile touched the ashen lips. It seemed to say: "Still in the ring, old man."

Helen's first swift glance showed that the wounded man was Bannister. She turned in crisp command to her

"Have him taken to my room and put to bed there. We have no time to prepare another. And send one of the

They carried the limp figure in with rough tenderness and laid him in the bed. McWilliams unbuckled the belt

and drew off the chaps; then, with the help of Denver, undressed the wounded man and covered him with

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 it was

on the mistress of the ranch that the responsibility of saving him fell. Missou was already galloping to Bear

Creek for a doctor, but the girl knew that the battle must be fought and the issue decided before he could

He had fallen again into insensibility and she rinsed and dressed his wounds, working with the quiet

impersonal certainty of touch that did not betray the inner turmoil of her soul. But McWilliams, his eyes

following her every motion and alert to anticipate her needs, saw that the color had washed from her face and

"You are not to speak or ask questions. You have been wounded and we are going to take care of you," she

"That's right good of y'u. I ce'tainly feet mighty trifling." His wide eyes traveled round till they fell on the

foreman. "Y'u see I came back to help fill your hospital. Am I there now? Where am I?" His gaze returned to

"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 to mutter unconnected words and

phrases. When his lids lifted again there was a wilder look in his eyes, and she knew that delirium was

beginning. At intervals it lasted for long; indeed, until the doctor came next morning in the small hours. He

talked of many things Helen Messiter did not understand, of incidents in his past life, some of them jerky

with the excitement of a tense moment, others apparently snatches of talk with relatives. It was like the

babbling of a child, irrelevant and yet often insistent. He would in one breath give orders connected with the

lambing of his sheep, in the next break into football talk, calling out signals and imploring his men to hold

them or to break through and get the ball. Once he broke into curses, but his very oaths seemed to come from

a clean heart and missed the vulgarity they might have had. Again his talk rambled inconsequently over his

youth, and he would urge himself or someone else of the same name to better life.

"Ned, Ned, remember your mother," he would beseech. "She asked me to look after you. Don't go wrong." Or

else it would be, "Don't disgrace the general, Ned. You'll break his heart if you blacken the old name." To this

theme he recurred repeatedly, and she noticed that when he imagined himself in the East his language was

correct and his intonation cultured, though still with a suggestion of a Southern softness.

But when he spoke of her his speech lapsed into the familiar drawl of Cattleland. "I ain't such a sweep as y'u

think, girl. Some day I'll sure tell y'u all about it, and how I have loved y'u ever since y'u scooped me up in

your car. You're the gamest little lady! To see y'u come asailin' down after me, so steady and businesslike,

not turning a hair when the bullets hummedI sure do love y'u, Helen." And then he fell upon her first name

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 a warmer color into her cheeks. Brushing back the short curls, she kissed his

damp forehead. It was in the thick of the battle, before he had weathered 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 was to think

often of it later, and always the memory was to be music in her heart. Even when she denied her love for him,

assured herself it was impossible she could care for so shameful a villain, even then it was a sweet torture to

allow herself the luxury of recalling his broken delirious phrases. At the very worst he could not be as bad as

they said; some instinct told her this was impossible. His fearless devilmaycare smile, his jaunty, gallant

bearing, these pleaded against the evidence for him. And yet was it conceivable that a man of spirit, a

gentleman by training at least, would let himself lie under the odium of such a charge if he were not guilty?

Her tangled thoughts fought this profitless 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 some snatch of good talk, when the fine quality of the

man seemed to glow in his face, poignant remembrance would stab her with recollection of the difference

One of the things that had been a continual surprise to Helen was the short time required by these

deepcheated and cleanblooded Westerners to recover from apparently serious wounds. It was scarce more

than two weeks since Bannister had filled the bunkhouse with wounded men, and already two of them were

back at work and the third almost fit for service. For perhaps three days the sheepman's life hung in the

balance, after which his splendid constitution and his outdoor life began to tell. 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 the sheepman was going to upset

"Which merely shows, ma'am, what is possible when you give a sound man twentyfour hours a day in our

hills for a few years," he added. "Thanks to your nursing he's going to shave through by the narrowest margin

"I don't think you need have told him that Doctor," returned that young woman, not a little vexed at him,

"especially since you have just been telling me that he owes it to Wyoming air and his own soundness of

When she returned to the sickroom to give her patient his medicine he wanted to tell her what the doctor had

He smiled "All right. Y'u sit there in that chair, where I can see y'u doing that fancywork and I'll not say a

"Yes, ma'am. Y'u had better have let me say what I wanted to, but I'll be good now."

He fell asleep watching her, and when he awoke she was still sitting there, though it was beginning to grow

"What am I to think about? I owe y'u a heap, and it keeps piling up. I reckon y'u do it all because it's your

"I didn't say it wasn't, though I expaict Bighorn County will forget to give y'u a unanimous vote of thanks for

"Reasons matter some, too, though they ain't as important as actions out in this country. Back in Boston they

figure more, and since y'u used to go to school back there y'u hadn't ought to throw down your professor of

"Don't you think you have talked enough for the present?" she smiled, and added: "If I make you talk

"That's where y'u've ce'tainly got the drop on me, ma'am. I'm a clam till y'u give the word."

Before a week he was able to sit up in a chair for an hour or two, and soon after could limp into the living

room with the aid of a walking stick and his hostess. Under the tan he still wore an interesting pallor, but

"A man doesn't know what he's missing until he gets shot up and is brought to the Lazy D hospital, so as to

let Miss Messiter exercise her Christian duty on him," he drawled, cheerfully, observing the sudden glow on

He made the lounge in the big sunny window his headquarters. From it he could look out on some of the

ranch activities when she was not with him, could watch the line riders as they passed to and fro and

command a 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. Sometimes he read to himself, but he was still easily tired, and preferred

usually to rest. More often she read aloud to him while he lay back with his leveled eyes gravely on her till

the gentle, cool abstraction she affected was disturbed and her perplexed lashes rose to reproach the intensity

She was of those women who have the heavenborn faculty of making home of such fortuitous elements as are

to their hands. Except her piano and such knickknacks as she had brought in a single trunk she had had to

depend upon the resources of the establishment to which she had come, but it is wonderful how much can be

done with some Navajo rugs, a bearskin, a few bits of Indian pottery and woven baskets and a judicious

arrangement of scenic photographs. In a few days she would have her pictures from Kalamazoo, pending

which her touch had transformed the big living room from a cheerless barn into a spot that was a comfort to

the eye and heart. To the wounded man who lay there slowly renewing the blood he had lost the room was

the apotheosis of home, less, perhaps, by reason of what it was in itself than because it was the setting for her

presencefor her grave, sympathetic eyes, the sound of her clear voice, the light grace of her motion. He

rejoiced in the delightful intimacy the circumstances made necessary. To hear snatches of joyous song and

gay laughter even from a distance, to watch her as she came in and out on her daily tasks, to contest her

opinions of books and life and see how eagerly she defended them; he wondered himself at the strength of the

appeal these simple things made to him. Already he was dreading the day when he must mount his horse and

"I'll hate to go back to sheepherding," he told her one day at lunch, looking at her across a snowwhite

tablecloth upon which were a service of shining silver, fragile china teacups and plates stamped Limoges.

He was at the moment buttering a delicious French roll and she was daintily pouring tea from an old family

heirloom. The contrast between this and the dust and the grease of a midday meal at the end of a "chuck

"I'm glad there isn't going to be any more trouble between you and the Lazy D. And that reminds me of

another thing. I've often wonered who those men could have been that attacked you the day you were hurt."

She had asked the question almost carelessly, without any thought that this might be something he wished to

conceal, but she recognized her mistake by the wariness that filmed his eyes instantly.

He shook his head. "Not just yet. I've got private reasons for keeping it quiet a while."

"Sure," he agreed, whimsically. "I must live up to the professional standard. Honor among thieves, y'u

Miss Messiter clung to civilization enough, at least, to prefer that her chambermaid should be a woman rather

than a Chinese. It did not suit her preconceived idea of the proper thing that Lee Ming should sweep floors,

dust bricabrac, and make the beds. To see him sloshsloshing around in his felt slippers made her

homesick for Kalamazoo. There were other reasons why the proprieties would be better served by having

another woman about the place; reasons that had to do with the chaperone system that even in the uncombed

West make its claims upon unmarried young women of respectability. She had with her for the present

Wherefore on the morning after her arrival Helen had sent two letters back to "the States." One of these had

been to Mrs. Winslow, a widow of fiftyfive, inviting her to come out on a business basis as housekeeper of

thc Lazy D. The buxom widow had loved Helen since she had been a toddling baby, and her reply was

immediate and enthusiastic. Eight days later she had reported in person. The second letter bore the

affectionate address of Nora Darling, Detroit, Michigan. This also in time bore fruit at the ranch in a manner

It was the fourth day after Ned Bannister had been carried back to the Lazy D that Helen Messiter came out

to the porch of the house with a letter in her hand. She found her foreman sitting on the steps waiting for her,

"Yes; I want you to drive into Gimlet Butte and bring back a person whom you'll find at the Elk House

waiting for you. I had rather you would go yourself, because I know you're reliable."

"It's a womana spinster. She's coming to help Mrs. Winslow. Inquire for Miss Darling. She isn't used to

"I'm sure you will. At her age she may need a good deal of care. Be certain you take rug enough."

"I'll take care of her the best I know how. expect she's likely rheumatic, but I'll wrop her up till she looks like

a Cheyenne squaw when 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 she will stay. I don' know about the

There were pinpoints of merriment behind th guileless innocence of her eyes, but they came to the surface

McWilliams ordered a team of young horse hitched, and presently set out on his two day; journey to Gimlet

Butte. He reached that town in good season, 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 bandanna that loosely embraced the brown throat above

the flannel shirt to the encrusted boots but through it the good humor of his tanned face smiled fraternally on

a young woman he passes at the entrance to the hotel. Her gay smile met his cordially, and she was still in his

mind while he ran his eye down the register in search of the name he wanted. There it wasMiss Nora

Darling, Detroit, Michiganin the neatest of little round letters, under date of the previous day's arrivals.

"Is Miss Darling in?" asked McWilliams of the halfgrown son of the landlady who served in lieu of clerk

"Nope! Went out a little while ago. Said to tell anybody to wait that asked for her."

Mac nodded, relieved to find that duty had postponed itself long enough for him to pursue the friendly smile

that had not been wasted on him a few seconds before. He strolled out to the porch and decided at once that

he needed a cigar more than anything else on earth. He was helped to a realization of his need by seeing the

She was beginning on a nut sundae when the puncher drifted in. She continued to devote even her eyes to its

consumption, while the foreman opened a casual conversation with the drug clerk and lit his cigar.

"How are things coming in Gimlet Butte?" he asked, by way of prolonging his stay rather than out of desire

Yes, she certainly had the longest, softest lashes he had ever seen, and the ripest of cherry lips, behind the

smiling depths of which sparkled two rows of tiny pearls. He wished she would look at HIM and smile again.

"Sure, it's a good year on the range and the price of cows jumping," he heard his subconscious self make

Funny how pretty hair of that color was especially when there was so much of it. You might call it a sort of

"Yes, I reckon most of the boys will drop around to the Fourth of July celebration. Got to cut loose once in a

A shy glance shot him and set him atingle with a queer delight. Gracious, what pretty dark velvety lashes

She was rising already, and as she paid for the ice cream that innocent gaze smote him again with the

brightest of Irish eyes conceivable. It lingered for just a ponderable sunlit moment or him. She had smiled

After a decent interval Mac pursued his petit charmer to the hotel. She was seated on the porch reading a

magazine, and was absorbedly unconscious of him when he passed. For a few awkward moments he hung

around the office, then returned to the porch and took the chair most distant from her. He had sat there a long

ten minutes before she let her hands and the magazine fall into her lap and demurely gave him his chance.

The conversation threatened to die before it was well born. Desperately McWilliams tried to think of

"If y'u were thinking of traveling out that way I could give y'u a lift. I just came in to get another ladyan

"Thank you, but I'm expecting a conveyance to meet me here. You didn't happen to pass one on the way, I

"What makes you so sure I'm not?" she asked, tilting her dimpled chin toward him aggressively.

Thus boldly accused of his youth, the foreman blushed. "I didn't mean that. Miss Messiter said she was an old

"You needn't tell fibs about it. She couldn't have said anything of the kind. Who are you, anyhow?" the girl

"I'm the foreman of the Lazy D, come to get Miss Darling. My name is McWilliamsJim McWilliams."

"I don't need your first name, Mr. McWilliams," she assured him, sweetly. "And will you please tell me why

"Miss Messiter didn't get your letter in time. Y'u see, we don't get mail every day at the Lazy D," he

explained, the while he hopefully wondered 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 waiting here thirty hoursI'll not stand it. When does the next train leave for Detroit?" she

The situation seemed to call for diplomacy, and Jim McWilliams moved to a nearer chair. "I'm right sorry it

happened, ma'am, and I'll bet Miss Messiter is, too. Y'u see, we been awful busy one way and 'nother, and I

He saw that her sudden smile had brought out the dimples in the oval face and that her petulance had been

"Fortythree, sure as shootin', except twict a week when it comes to Slauson's, and that's only twenty miles,"

he assured her. "Used to be seventytwo, but the Government got busy with its rural free delivery, and now

"All out o' doors," he punned. "Y'u see, our house is under our hat, and like as not that's twenty miles from

"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 him did not ask for pointed wit on the part

"I expaict I have gathered up some scenery on the journey. I'll go brush it off and get ready for supper. I'd

admire to sit beside y'u and pass the butter and the hash if y'u don't object. Y'u see, I don't often meet up with

ladies, and I'd ought to improve my table manners when I get a chanct with one so much older than I am and

"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 how old 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

"That's right strange," he mused aloud. "For judging by some of your ways you're the spinster Miss Messiter

was telling me about, but judging by your looks y'u're only the prettiest and sassiest twentyyearold in

And with this shot he fled, to see what transformation he could effect with the aid of a whiskbroom, a tin pan

When she met him at the supper table her first question was, "Did Miss Messiter say I was an old maid?"

"Sho! I wouldn't let that trouble me if I was y'u. A woman ain't any older than she looks. Your age don't show

"I reckon she laid a trap for me and I shoved my paw in. She wanted to give me a pleasant surprise."

"Don't y'u grow anxious about being an old maid. There ain't any in Wyoming to speak of. If y'u like I'll tell

the boys you're worried and some of them will be JohnnieontheSpot. They're awful gallant, cowpunchers

He sawed industriously at his steak. "Y'u don't say! Just old enough to votelike this steer was before they

They left Gimlet Butte early next morning and reached the Lazy D shortly after noon on the succeeding day.

McWilliams understood perfectly that strenuous competition would inevitably ensue as soon as the Lazy D

beheld the attraction he had brought into their midst. Nor did he need a phrenologist to tell him that Nora was

a born flirt and that her shy slant glances were meant to penetrate tough hides to tender hearts. But this did

not discourage him, and he set about making his individual impression while he had her all to himself. He

wasn't at all sure how deep 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 her pretty lips before the other boys caught a glimpse of her.

Shortly after his arrival at the ranch Mac went to make his report to his mistress of some business matters

"I see you got back safely with the old lady," she laughed when she caught sight of him.

"But it was you that insisted on the rheumatism. By the way, did you ask her about it?"

"Oh! How far did you get?" She perched herself on the porch railing and mocked him with her friendly eyes.

Her heart was light within her and she was ready for anything in the way of fun, for the doctor had just

"We might disagree as to how far that is," she flung back gayly with heightened color.

"But, gracious! You're not a Mormon. You don't want us both, do you?" she demanded, her eyes sparkling

His joyous laughter echoed hers. "I expaict y'u would call that presumption or some other dictionary word,

"And you'll let us know when you have made your mind up which of us it is to be?"

She took this up gleefully. "I can't answer for Nora, but I'll jump at the chance if you decide to give it to

He laughed delightedly into the hat he was momentarily expecting to put on. "I'll mill it over a spell and let

"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 flirt as much afterward. I have a good temper, too, as a rule, but then so

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 that bunch of Circle 66 cows you looked at

They discussed business for a few minutes, after which she went back to her patient and he to his work.

"Ain't she a straightup little gentleman for fair?" the foreman asked himself in rhetorical and exuberant

question, slapping his hat against his leg as he strode toward the corral. "Think of her coming at me like she

did, the blamed little thoroughbred. Y'u bet she knows me down to the ground and how sudden I got over any

fool notions I might astarted to get in my cocoanut. But the way she came back at me, quick as lightning

and then some, pretendin' all that foolishness and knowin' all the time I'd savez the game."

Both McWilliams and his mistress had guessed right in their surmise as to Nora Darling's popularity in the

cow country. She made an immediate and pronounced hit. It was astonishing how many errands the men

found to take them to "the house," as they called the building where the mistress of the ranch dwelt. Bannister

served for a time as an excellent excuse. Judging from the number of the inquiries which the men found it

necessary to make as to his progress, Helen would have guessed him exceedingly popular with her riders.

He laughed, and tried to turn it into a compliment to his mistress. But she would have none of it.

"I know better, sir. They don't come here to see me. Nora is the attraction, and I have sense enough to know

Mac looked with gay earnestness at the feature she had mentioned. "There's a heap of difference in noses," he

"That's another way of telling me that Nora's pug is the sweetest thing you ever saw," she charged.

He pronounced her name so much as if it were a caress that his mistress laughed, and he joined in it.

"It's your fickleness that is breaking my heart, though I knew I was lost as soon as I saw your beatific look on

the day you got back with Nora. The first week I came none of you could do enough for me. Now it's all

"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 way down deep that y'u'd shuck that friendliness awful sudden if any of them dropped

around with 'Object, Matrimony' in their manner. Consequence is, 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. My notions faded, ma'am, in about a week."

"No, ma'am, they had gone glimmering long before she arrived. I was just convalescent enough to need being

He took off his dusty hat and scratched his head. "I ain't right certain, yet, ma'am. Soon as I know I'm

"Yes, ma'am." He looked aggrieved, thinking himself a man grown. "How did y'u say Mr. Bannister was?"

"Wait, and I'll send Nora out to tell you," she flashed, and disappeared in the house.

Conversation at the bunkhouse and the chucktent sometimes circled around the young women at the house,

but its personality rarely grew pronounced. References to Helen Messiter and the housemaid were usually by

way of repartee at each other. For a change had come over the spirit of the Lazy D men, and, though a

cheerful profanity still flowed freely when they were alone together, vulgarity was largely banished.

The morning after his conversation with Miss Messiter, McWilliams was washing in the foreman's room

when the triangle beat the call for breakfast, and he heard the cook's raucous "Come and get it." There was

the usual stampede for the tent, and a minute later Mac flung back the flap and entered. He took the seat at

the head of the table, along the benches on both sides of which the punchers were plying busy knives and

"A stack of chips," ordered the foreman; and the cook's "Coming up" was scarcely more prompt than the

"Hen fruit, sunny side up," shouted Reddy, who was further advanced in his meal.

"Tame that foghorn, son," advised Wun Hop; but presently he slid three fried eggs from a fryingpan into

"I want y'u boys to finish flankin' that bunch of hill calves today," said the foreman, emptying half a jug of

"Redtop, he ain't got no appetite these days," grinned Denver, as the gentleman mentioned cleaned up a

second loaded plate of ham, eggs and fried potatoes. "I see him studying a Wind River Bible* yesterday.

Curious how in the spring a young man's fancy gits to wandering on house furnishing. Red, he was taking the

catalogue alphabetically. Carpets was absorbin' his attention, chairs on deck, and chandeliers in the hole, as

[*A Wind River Bible in the Northwest ranch country is a catalogue of one of the big Chicago department

"Ain't a word of truth in it," indignantly denied the assailed, his unfinished nose and chin giving him a

pathetic, whipped puppy look. "Sho! I was just looking up saddles. Can't a fellow buy a new saddle without

"Cyarpets used to begin with a C in my spellingbook, but saddles got off right foot fust with a S," suggested

"He was ce'tainly trying to tree his saddle among the C's. He was looking awful loving at a Turkish rug.

"Huh! Y'u're awful smart, Denver," retaliated Reddy, his complexion matching his hair. "Y'u talk a heap with

"I want mighty bad to be married, To have a garden and a home; I ce'tainly aim to git married, And have a

"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 no surcingle on me." Nevertheless, he made a hurried end of his breakfast and flung

"Y'u boys hadn't ought to wound Reddy's tender feelings, and him so bent on matrimony!" said Denver

innocently. "Get a move on them fried spuds and sashay them down this way, if there's any left when y'u fill

Nor was Reddy the only young man who had dreams those days at the Lazy D. Cupid must have had his

hands full, for his darts punctured more than one honest plainsman's heart. The reputation of the young

women at the Lazy D seemed to travel on the wings of the wind, and from far and near Cattleland sent

devotees to this shrine of youth and beauty. So casually the victims drifted in, always with a good business

excuse warranted to endure raillery and sarcasm, that it was impossible to say they had come of set purpose

As for Nora, it is not too much to say that she was having the time of her life. Detroit, Michigan, could offer

no such field for her expansive charms as the Bighorn country, Wyoming. Here she might have her pick of a

hundred, and every one of them picturesquely begirt with flannel shirt, knotted scarf at neck, an arsenal that

bristled, and a suntan that could be achieved only in the outdoors of the Rockies. Certainly these knights of

the saddle radiated a romance with which even her floorwalker "gentleman friend " could not compete.

It had been Helen Messiter's daily custom either to take a ride on her pony or a spin in her motor car, but

since Bannister had been quartered at the Lazy D her time had been so fully occupied that she had given this

up for the present. The arrival of Nora Darling, however, took so much work off her hands that she began to

Her patient was by this time so far recovered that he did not need her constant attendance and there were

reasons why she decided it best to spend only a minimum of her time with him. These had to do with her

increasing interest in the man and the need she felt to discourage it. It had come to a pretty pass, she told

herself scornfully, when she found herself inventing excuses to take her into the room where this most

picturesque of unhanged scamps was lying. Most good women are at heart puritans, and if Helen was too

liberal to judge others narrowly she could be none the less rigid with herself. She might talk to him of her

duty, but it was her habit to be frank in thought and she knew that something nearer than that abstraction had

moved her efforts in his behalf. She had fought for his life because she loved him. She could deny it no

longer. Nor was the shame with which she confessed it unmingled with pride. He was a man to compel love,

one of the mood imperative, chainarmored in the outdoor virtues of strength and endurance and stark

courage. Her abasement began only where his superlation ended. That a being so godlike in equipment

should have been fashioned without a soul, and that she should have given her heart to him. This was the

It was of these things she thought as she drove in the late afternoon toward those Antelope Peaks he had first

pointed out to her. She swept past the scene of the battle and dipped down into the plains for a run to that

western horizon behind the jagged mountain line of which the sun was radiantly setting in a splash of

glorious colors. Lost in thought, space slipped under her wheels unnoticed. Not till her car refused the spur

and slowed to a despondent halt did she observe that velvet night was 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 discovered soon enough with instant dismay that the gasolene tank was empty. Reddy,

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 woman of resolution, and she wasted no time in tears or regrets. The XIX ranch,

owned by a small "nester" named Henderson, could not be more than five or six miles to the southeast. If she

struck across the hills she would be sure to run into one of the barblines. At the XIX she could get a horse and

reach the Lazy D by midnight. Without any hesitation she struck out. It was unfortunate that she did not have

on her heavy laced high boots, but she realized that she must take things as she found them. Things might

And before long they were worse, for the increasing darkness blotted out the landmarks she was using as

guides and she was lost among the hill waves that rolled one after another across the range. Still she did not

give way, telling herself that it would be better after the moon was up. She could then tell north from south,

and so have a line by which to travel. But when at length the stars came out, thousands upon thousands of

them, and looked down on a land magically flooded with chill moonlight, the girl found that the

transformation of Wyoming into this scence of silvery loveliness had toned the distant mountain line to an

indefinite haze that made it impossible for her to distinguish one peak from another.

She wandered for hours, hungry and tired and frightened, though this last she would not confess.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she told herself over and over. "Even if I have to stay out all night it will do

But try to evade it as she would, there was something in the loneliness of this limitless stretch of hilltop that

got on her nerves. The very shadows cast by the moonshine seemed too fantastic for reality. Something eerie

and unearthly hovered over it all, and before she knew it a sob choked up her throat.

Vague fancies filtered through her mind, weird imaginings born of the night in a mind that had been swept

from the moorings of reason. So that with no sensible surprise there came to her in that moonlit sea of desert

the sound of a voice a clear sweet tenor swelling bravely in song with the very ecstacy of pathos.

It was the prison song from "Il Trovatore," and the desolation of its lifted appeal went to the heart like water

The girl's sob caught in her breast, stilled with the awe of that heavenly music. So for an instant she waited

before it was borne in on her that the voice was a human one, and that the heaven from which it descended

A wild laugh, followed by an oath, cut the dying echoes of the song. She could hear the swish of a quirt

falling again and again, and the sound of trampling hoofs thudding on the hard, suncracked ground. Startled,

she sprang to her feet, and saw silhouetted against the skyline a horse and his rider fighting for mastery.

The battle was superb while it lasted. The horse had been a famous outlaw, broken to the saddle by its owner

out of the sheer passion for victory, but there were times when its savage strength rebelled at abject

submission, and this was one of them. It swung itself skyward, and came down like a piledriver,

camelbacked, and without joints in the 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 fury incarnate. But the ride, was a match,

and more than a match, for it. He sat the saddle like a Centaur, with the perfect: unconscious grace of a born

master, swaying in his seat as need was, and spurring the horse to a blinder fury.

Sudden as had been the start, no less sudden was the finish of the battle. The bronco pounded to a

stifflegged standstill, trembled for a long minute like an aspen, and sank to a tame surrender, despite the

"Ah, my beauty. You've had enough, have you?" demanded the cruel, triumphant voice of the rider. "You

The man stopped, in sheer amazement at this apparition which had leaped out of the ground almost at his feet.

"Ce'tainly, ma'am. We're sure delighted to meet up with you. Ain't we, Twostep?"

For himself, he spoke the simple truth. He lived in his sensations, spurring himself to fresh ones as he had but

just now been spurring his horse to sate the greed of conquest in him. And this highspirited, gallant

creaturehe could feel her vital courage in the very ring of her voiceoffered a rare fillip to his jaded

appetite. The dusky, longlashed eyes which always give a woman an effect of beauty, the splendid fling of

head, and the piquant, finely cut features, with their unconscious tale of Brahmin caste, the long lines of the

supple body, willowy and yet plump as a partridgethey went to his head like strong wine. Here was an

adventure from the godsa stubborn will to bend, the pride of a haughty young beauty to trail in the dust,

her untamed heart to break if need be. The lust of the battle was on him already. She was a woman to dream

he told himself exultantly as he slid from his horse and stood bowing before her.

And he, for his part, was a taking enough picture of devilmaycare gallantry 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 wasa man bold and capable to do what he willed,

"My motor ran out of gasolene this afternoon. I've been"there was a catch in her voice"wandering ever

"You're played out, of course, and y'u've had no supper," he said, his quiet close gaze on her.

"Yes, I'm played out and my nerve's gone." She laughed a little hysterically. "I expect I'm hungry and thirsty,

He whirled to his saddle, and had the canteen thongs unloosed in a moment. While she drank he rummaged

from his saddlebags some sandwiches of jerky and a flask of whiskey. She ate the sandwiches, he the while

She stopped, the sandwich part way to her mouth. "I don't remember your face. I've met so many people since

He immediately relieved of duty her quasi apology. "You haven't seen my face before," he laughed, and,

though she puzzled over the double meaning that seemed to lurk behind his words and amuse him, she could

It was too dark to make out his features at all clearly, but she was sure she had seen him before or somebody

"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 sixguns are popping, breaks up a likely feud and mends right neatly all the

ventilated feudists it's a corollary to her fun that's she is going to become famous."

What he said was true enough. The unsolicited notoriety her exploit had brought upon her had been its chief

penalty. Garbled versions of it had appeared with fake pictures in New York and Chicago Sunday

supplements, and all Cattleland had heard and discussed it. No matter into what unfrequented canon she rode,

some silent cowpuncher would look at her as they met with admiring eyes behind which she read a

knowledge of the story. It was a lonely desolate country, full of the wide deep silences of utter emptiness, yet

there could be no footfall but the whisper of it was bruited on the wings of the wind.

"I surely can. But not tonight. You're more tired than y'u know. We'll camp here, and in the mo'ning we'll

This did not suit her at all. "Is it far to the Lazy D?" she inquired anxiously.

"Every inch of forty miles. There's a creek not more than two hundred yards from here. We'll stay there till

morning," he made answer in a matter of course voice, leading the way to the place he had mentioned.

She followed, protesting. Yet though it was not in accord with her civilized sense of fitness, she knew that

what he proposed was the common sense solution. She was tired and worn out, and she could see that his

Having reached the bank of the creek, he unsaddled, watered his horse and picketed it, and started a fire.

"Y'u wouldn't call it near by the time we had reached it. What's to hinder your sleeping here? Isn't this room

airy enough? And don't y'u like the system of lighting? 'Twas patented I forget how many million years ago.

Y'u ain't going to play parlor girl now after getting the reputation 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 to beware. So, lightly he took up the burden of the talk while he gathered

"Now if I'd only thought to bring a load of lumber and some carpentersand a chaperon," he chided himself

in burlesque, his bold eyes closely on the girl's face to gloat on the color that flew to her cheeks at his

She hastened to disclaim lightly the feeling he had unmasked in her. "It is a pity, but it can't be helped now. I

suppose I am cross and don't seem very grateful. I'm tired out and nervous, but I am sure that I'll enjoy

He soon had a cup of steaming coffee ready for her, and the heat of it made a new woman of her. She sat in

the warm fire glow, and began to feel stealing over her a delightful reaction of languor. She told herself

"Since you know my name, isn't it fair that I should know yours?" she smilingly asked, more amiably than

"Well, since I have found the lamb that was lost, y'u may call me a shepherd of the desert."

"Then, Mr. Shepherd, I'm very glad to meet you. I don't remember when I ever was more glad to meet a

stranger." And she added with a little laugh: "It's a pity I'm too sleepy to do my duty by you in a social way."

"We'll let that wait till tomorrow. 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 his saddle blankets. But though her eyes

were heavy, her brain was still too active to permit her to sleep immediately. The excitement of her adventure

was too near, the emotions of the day too poignantly vivid, to lose their hold on her at once. For the first time

in her life she lay lapped in the illimitable velvet night, countless unwinking stars lighting the blueblack

dream in which she floated. The enchantment of the night's loveliness swept through her sensitive pulses and

thrilled her with the mystery of the great life of which she was an atom. Awe held her a willing captive.

She thought of many things, of her past life and its incongruity with the present, of the man who lay wounded

at the Lazy D, of this other wideshouldered vagabond who was just now in the shadows beyond the

firelight, pacing up and down with long, light even strides as he looked to his horse and fed the fire. She

watched him make an end of the things he found to do and then take his place opposite her. Who and what

was he, this fascinating scamp who one moment flooded the moonlit desert with inspired snatches from the

opera sung in the voice of an angel, and the next lashed at his horse like a devil incarnate? How reconcile the

outstanding inconsistencies in him? For his every inflection, every motion, proclaimed the strain of good

blood gone wrong and trampled under foot of set, sardonic purpose, indicated him a man of culture in a hell

of his own choosing. Lounging on his elbow in the flickering shadows, so carelessly insouciant in every

picturesque inch of him, he seemed to radiate the melodrama of the untamed frontier, just as her guest of

"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 mornent had added, not to

But despite her calm assurance she knew she did not feel so entirely safe as if it had been one of her own

ranch boys on the other side of the fire, or even that other vagabond who had made so direct an appeal to her

She was still thinking of him when she fell asleep, and when she awakened the first sound that fell on her ears

was his tuneful whistle. Indeed she had an indistinct memory of him in the night, wrapping the blankets

closer about her when the chill air had half stirred her from her slumber. The day was still very young, but the

abundant desert light dismissed sleep summarily. She shook and brushed the wrinkles out of her clothes and

went down to the creek to wash her face with the inadequate facilities at hand. After redressing her hair she

She came up noiselessly behind him, but his trained senses were apprised of her approach.

"Good mo'ning! How did y'u find your bedroom?" he asked, without turning from the bacon he was broiling

"Quite up to the specifications. With all Wyoming for a floor and the sky for a ceiling, I never had a room I

"As much so as stocks on Wall Street. And we haven't any ticker to warn us to get under cover. Do you take

"We're in tincan land, you know, and live on airtights. I milk my cow with a canopener. Let me

recommend this quail on toast." He handed her a battered tin plate, and prepared to help her from the

"Ah, Sherry's! That's since my time. I don't suppose I should know my way about in little old New York

She found him eager to pick up again the broken strands that had connected him with the big world from

which he had once come. It had been long since she had enjoyed a talk more, for he expressed himself with

wit and dexterity. But through her enjoyment ran a note of apprehension. He was for the moment a

resurrected gentleman. But what would he be next? She had an insistent memory of a heavenly flood of

It was he that lingered over their breakfast, loath to make the first move to bring him back into realities; and it

was she that had to suggest the need of setting out. But once on his feet, he saddled and packed swiftly, with a

"We'll have to ask Twostep to carry double today," he said, as he helped her to a place behind him.

Twostep had evidently made an end of the bronco spree upon which he had been the evening before, for he

submitted sedately to his unusual burden. The first hilltop they reached had its surprise to offer the girl. In a

little valley below them, scarce a mile away, nestled a ranch with its corrals and buildings.

"Yes, that's the Hilke place," he answered with composure. "It hasn't been occupied for years."

They dropped into a hollow between the hills and left the ranch on their left. She was not satisfied, and yet

she had not grounds enough upon which to base a suspicion. For surely the figure she had seen had been that

Now that it was safely concluded, Helen thought the adventure almost worthwhile for the spontaneous

expressions of good will it had drawn forth from her adherents. Mrs. Winslow and Nora had taken her to their

arms and wept and laughed over her in turn, and in their silent undemonstrative way she had felt herself

hedged in by unusual solicitude on the part of her riders. It was goodnone but she knew how goodto be

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 on her heart from the consciousness of his unworthiness.

She could affect to disregard the gray eyes that followed her with such magnetized content about the living

room, but beneath her cool selfcontainment she knew the joyous heart in her was strangely buoyant. He

loved her, and she had a right to let herself love him. This was enough for the present.

"They're so plumb glad to see y'u they can't let y'u alone," laughed Bannister at the sound of a knock on the

This time it proved to be Nora, come to find out what her mistress would like for supper. Helen turned to the

"You can't have it. You know what the doctor said." Very peremptorily she smiled this at him.

"Make it two," he pleaded. "Excitement's just like caviar to the appetite, and seeing y'u safe"

They ate supper together in a renewal of the pleasant intimacy so delightful to both. He lay on the lounge,

propped up with sofa cushions, the while he watched her deft fingers butter the toast and prepare his egg. It

was surely worth while to be a convalescent, given so sweet a comrade for a nurse; and after he had moved

over to the table he enjoyed immensely the gay firmness with which she denied him what was not good for

"I'll bet y'u didn't have supper like this at Robbers' Roost." he told her, enthusiastically.

"It wasn't so bad, considering everything." She was looking directly at him 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 tincan land."

"For one thing, the reason why you should bear the odium of his crimes. I suppose you don't care for him,

"I don't care for him in the least, though I used to when we were boys. As to letting myself be blamed for his

crimes. I did it because I couldn't help myself. We look more or less alike, and he was cunning enough to

manufacture evidence against me. We were never seen together, and so very few know that there are two

Bannisters. At first I used to protest, but I gave it up. There wasn't the least use. I could only wait for him to

be captured or killed. In the meantime it didn't make me any more popular to be a sheepman."

"Weren't you taking a long chance of being killed first? Some one with a grudge against him might have shot

"I started to tell y'u that first day, but it looked so much of a fairy tale to unload that I passed it up."

"I don't remember blaming y'u. The fact is I thought it awful white of y'u to do your Christian duty so

"We're not talking about my duty," she flashed back. "My point is that you weren't fair to me. If I thought ill

"I ain't of a revengeful disposition. I'll forgive y'u for doing your duty and saving my life twice," he said, with

"You ought to beg my pardon. I was a friend, at least you say I acted like oneand you didn't care enough to

"Maybe I cared too much to risk trying it. I knew there would be proof some time, and I decided to lie under

the suspicion until I could get it. I see now that wasn't kind or fair to you. I am sorry I didn't tell y'u all about

It was a long story, but the main points can be told in a paragraph. The grandfather of the two cousins,

General Edward Bannister, had worn the Confederate gray for four years, and had lost an arm in the service

of the flag with the stars and bars. After the war he returned to his home in Virginia to find it in ruins, his

slaves freed and his fields mortgaged. He had pulled himself together for another start, and had practiced law

in the little town where his family had lived for generations. Of his two sons, one was a ne'erdowell. He

was one of those brilliant fellows of whom much is expected that never develops. He had a taste for low

company, married beneath him, and, after a career that was a continual mortification and humiliation to his

father, was killed in a drunken brawl under disgraceful circumstances, leaving behind a son named for the

general. The second son of General Bannister also died young, but not before he had proved his devotion to

his father by an exemplary life. He, too, was married and left an only son, also named for the old soldier. The

boys were about of an age and were well matched in physical and mental equipment. But the general, who

had taken them both to live with him, soon discovered that their characters were as dissimilar as the poles.

One grandson was frank, generous, open as the light; the other was of a nature almost degenerate. In fact,

each had inherited the qualities of his father. Tales began to come to the old general's ears that at first he

refused to credit. But eventually it was made plain to him that one of the boys was a rake of the most

There were many stormy scenes between the general and his grandson, but the boy continued to go from bad

to worse. After a peculiarly flagrant case, involving the character of a respectable young girl, young Ned

Bannister was forbidden his ancestral home. It had been by means of his cousin that this last iniquity of his

had been unearthed, and the boy had taken it to his grandfather in hot indignation as the last hope of

protecting the reputation of the injured girl. From that hour the evil hatred of his cousin, always dormant in

the heart, flamed into active heat. The disowned youth swore to be revenged. A short time later the general

died, leaving what little property he had entirely to the one grandson. This stirred again the bitter rage of the

other. He set fire to the house that had been willed his cousin, and took a train that night for Wyoming. By a

strange irony of fate they met again in the West years later, and the enmity between them was renewed,

growing every month more bitter on the part of the one who called himself the King of the Bighorn Country.

She broke the silence after his story with a gentle "Thank you. I can understand why you don't like to tell the

"When you were delirious you sometimes begged some one you called Ned not to break his mother's heart. I

thought then you might be speaking to yourself as ill people do. Of course I see now it was your cousin that

"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 I wouldn't have been scattering around so free if I'd known what I was saying."

He was hardly prepared for the tide of color that swept her cheeks at his words nor for the momentary

"Sick folks do talk foolishness, they say," he added, his gaze trained on her suspiciously.

"Mrs. Winslow says I did. But when I asked her what it was I said she only laughed and told me to ask y'u.

She became very busy over the teapot. "You talked about the work at your ranchsheep dipping and such

"No, about lots of other thingsfootball and your early life. I don't see what Mrs. Winslow meant. Will you

"No, thank y'u. I have finished. Yes, that ce'tainly seems harmless. I didn't know but I had been telling

"Secrets?" She summoned her aplomb to let a question rest lightly in the face she turned toward him, though

she was afraid she met his eyes hardly long enough for complete innocence "Why, yes, secrets." He measured

looks with her deliberately before he changed the subject, and he knew again the delightful excitement of

She took his opening so eagerly that he smiled, at which her color mounted again.

"Some more of Barrie's books, if y'u don't mind. When a fellow is weak as a kitten he sorter takes to things

Nora came in and cleared away the supper things. She was just beginning to wash them when McWilliams

and Denver dropped into the kitchen by different doors. Each seemed surprised and disappointed at the

"Reddy, he's shavin' and Frisco's struggling with a biled shirtI mean with a necktie," Denver hastily

"Y'u better go tell the boys Miss Nora don't want her kitchen littered up with so many of them," suggested his

"Y'u're foreman here. I don't aim to butt into your business, Mac," grinned back the other, polishing a tea

"I want to get some table linen over to Lee Ming tonight," said Nora, presently.

"Denver, he'll be glad to take it for y'u, Miss Nora. He's real obliging," offered Mac, generously.

"I've been in the house all day, so I need a walk. I thought perhaps one of you gentlemen" Miss Nora

"Sure, I'll go along and carry it. Just as Mac says, I'll be real pleased to go," said Denver, hastily.

Mac felt he had been a trifle precipitate in his assumption that Nora did not intend to go herself. Lee Ming

had established a laundry some half mile from the ranch, and the way thereto lay through most picturesque

shadow and moonlight. The foreman had conscientious scruples against letting Denver escort her down such

"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 me I'd be justified in allowin' y'u to," said the foreman, anxiously.

"You're THAT thoughtful, Mac. But I expect mebbe a little saunter with Miss Nora will do my throat good.

"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 right stuff for y'u. It's in the drawer of my washstand. Help yourself liberal

"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 a bit of use in y'u exposing yourself so

careless. Y'u take a hot footbath and some of that medicine, Denver, then go right straight to bed, and in the

"Y'u're liable to be a grandmother to us if y'u keep on," came back the young giant.

"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 catch pneumony as y'u would be to get heart trouble if y'u went walking with Miss Nora,"

A perfect gravity sat on both their faces during the progress of most of their repartee.

"If your throat's so bad, Mr. Halliday, I'll put a kerosene rag round it for you when we get back," Nora said,

Denver, otherwise "Mr. Halliday," beamed. "Y'u're real kind, ma'am. I'll bet that will help it on the outside

"What'll y'u do for my heart, ma'am, if it gits bad the way Denver figures it will?"

For once the debonair foreman's ready tongue had brought him to defeat. He was about to retire from the field

"We would like to have you come along with us, Mr. McWilliams. I want you to come if you can spare the

The soft eyes telegraphed an invitation with such a subtle suggestion of a private understanding that Mac was

He knew, of course, that she was playing them against each other and sitting back to enjoy the result, but he

was possessed of the hope common to youths in his case that he really was on a better footing with her than

the other boys. This opinion, it may be added, was shared by Denver, Frisco and even Reddy as regards

themselves. Which is merely another way of putting the regrettable fact that this very charming young

"Any time y'u get oneasy about that cough y'u go right on home, Denver. Don't stay jest out of politeness.

"Thank y'u, Mac. But y'u see I got to stay to keep Miss Nora from getting bored."

"Was it a phrenologist strung y'u with the notion y'u was a cure for lonesomeness?"

"Shucks! I don't make no such claims. The only thing is it's a comfort when you're bored to have company.

Miss Nora, she's so polite. But, y'u see, 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, and Denver suggested that Mac run in with the

"I'd like to, honest I would. But since y'u thought of it first I won't steal the credit of doing Miss Nora a good

In the pleasant moonlight they sauntered back, two of them still engaged in lively badinage. while the third

played chorus with appreciative little giggles and murmurs of "Oh, Mr. Halliday!" and "You know you're just

If they had not been so absorbed in their gay foolishness the two men might not have walked so innocently

into the trap waiting for them at their journey's end. As it was, the first intimation they had of anything

A masked man covered them, in each hand a sixshooter, and at his summons the arms of the cowpunchers

"Y'u don't need to be afraid, lady. Ain't nobody going to hurt you, I reckon," the masked man growled.

" Sure they won't," Mac reassured her, adding ironically: "This gunplay business is just neighborly frolic.

"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. No objections, I

Nora Darling interrupted the dialogue by quietly fainting. The foreman caught her as she fell.

The sheepman lay at his ease, the strong supple lines of him stretched lazily on the lounge. Helen was sitting

beside him in an easy chair, and he watched the play of her face in the lamplight as she read from "The Little

White Bird." She was very good to see, so vitally alive and full of a sweet charm that half revealed and half

concealed her personality. The imagination with which she threw herself into a discussion of the child fancies

portrayed by the Scotch writer captured his fancy. It delighted him to tempt her into discussions that told him

They were in animated debate when the door opened to admit somebody else. He had stepped in so quietly

that he stood there a little while without being observed, smiling down at them with triumphant malice behind

the mask he wore. Perhaps it was the black visor that was responsible for the Mephisto effect, since it hid all

the face but the leering eyes. These, narrowed to slits, swept the room and came back to its occupants. He

was a tall man and wellknit, dressed incongruously in uptodate riding breeches and boots, in combination

with the usual gray shirt, knotted kerchief and widebrimmed felt hat of the horseman of the plains. The dust

of the desert lay thick on him, without in the least obscuring a certain ribald elegance, a distinction of

wickedness that rested upon him as his due. To this result his debonair manner contributed, though it carried

with it no suggestion of weakness. To the girl who looked up and found him there he looked indescribably

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 both men looked the inevitable conflict, the declaration of war that never

"I've been a heap anxious about y'ucouldn't sleep for worrying. So I saddled up and rode in to find out if

The sheepman, not deigning to move an inch from his position, looked in silence his steady contempt.

"This conversation sounds a whole lot like a monologue up to date," he continued. "Now, maybe y'u don't

know y'u have the honor of entertaining the King of the Bighorn." The man's brown hand brushed the mask

from his eyes and he bowed with mocking deference. "Miss Messiter, allow me to introduce myself

againNed Bannister, train robber, rustler, kidnapper and general bad man. But I ain't told y'u the worst yet.

He limped forward a few steps and sat down. "Thank you, I believe I will stay a while since y'u both ask me

so urgent. It isn't often I meet with a welcome so hearty and straight from the heart."

It was not hard to see how the likeness between them contributed to the mistake that had been current

concerning them. Side by side, no man could have mistaken one for the other. The color of their eyes, the

shade of hair, even the cut of their features, were different. But beneath all distinctions in detail ran a family

resemblance not to be denied. This man looked like his cousin, the sheepman, as the latter might have done if

The height, the build, the elastic tread of each, made further contributions to this effect of similarity.

"What are you doing here?" They were the first words spoken by the man on the lounge and they rang with a

"Come to inquire after the health of my dear cousin," came the prompt silken answer.

"My dear cousin, y'u speak with such conviction that y'u almost persuade me. But of course if I'm a villain

"Wouldn't it be better to live it down?" she asked with a quietness that belied her terror. For there had been in

his manner a threat, not against her but against the man whom her heart acknowledged as her lover.

He laughed. "Y'u're still hoping to make a Sunday school superintendent out of me, I see. Y'u haven't forgot

The other cousin watched him with a cool, quiet glance that never wavered. The outlaw was heavily armed,

but his weapons were sheathed, and, though there was a wary glitter behind the vindictive exultation in his

eyes, his capable hands betrayed no knowledge of the existence of his revolvers. It was, he knew, to be a

"Hope I'm not disturbing any happy family circle," he remarked, and, taking two limping steps forward, he

lifted the book from the girl's unresisting hands. "H'm! Barrie. I don't go much on him. He's too sissy for me.

But I could have guessed the other Ned Bannister would be reading something like that," he concluded, a

"Perhaps y'u'll learn some time to attend to your own business," said the man on the couch quietly.

Hatred gleamed in the narrowed slits from which the soul of the other cousin looked down at him. "I'm a

philanthropist, and my business is attending to other people's. They raise sheep, for instance, and I market

The girl hastily interrupted. She had not feared for herself, but she knew fear for the indomitable man she had

nursed back to life. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Bannister? Since you don't approve our literature, perhaps we

The man turned in smiling divination of her purpose, and sat down to play with her as a cat does with a

"Thank y'u, Miss Messiter, I believe I will. I called to thank y'u for your kindness to my cousin as well as to

inquire about you. The word goes that y'u pulled my dear cousin back when death was reaching mighty

"That's ce'tainly good hearing," was his ironical response. "How come he to get hurt, did y'u say?"

The girl felt a sudden sickness at his honeyed cruelty, but immediately pulled herself together. For whatever

She had by chance found his weak spot. Instantly his eyes lit up. He stepped across to the piano and began to

look over the music, though not so 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 the music here; I wonder if y'u have the

musician." He looked her over with a bold, unscrupulous gaze. "It's an old trick to have classical music on the

He selected two of Grieg's songs and invited her to the piano. He knew instantly that the Norwegian's delicate

fancy and lyrical feeling had found in her no inadequate medium of expression. The peculiar emotional

quality 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 a shiningeyed, musical enthusiast instead of the villain she had left five

For nearly an hour he kept her at the piano, and when at last he let her stop playing he seemed a man

"You have given me a great pleasure, a very great pleasure, Miss Messiter," he thanked her warmly, his

Western idiom sloughed with his villainy for the moment. "It has been a good many months since I have

Her hesitation was imperceptible. "Surely, if you wish." She felt it would be worse than idle to deny the

With perfect grace he bowed, and as he wheeled away met with a little shock of remembrance the gaze of his

cousin. For a long moment their eyes bored into each other. Neither yielded the beat of an eyelid, but it was

"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.

"Same old traits cropping out again. There was always something feline about y'u. I remember when y'u were

"Just so. Miss Messiter, I shall have to borrow a pony from y'u, unless" He broke off and turned

"Yes, I brought a hawss along with me for y'u," replied the other to the unvoiced question. "I thought maybe

"But he can't ride. He couldn't possibly. It would kill him," the girl broke out.

"I reckon not." The man from the Shoshones glanced at his victim as he drew on his gauntlets. "He's a heap

"But it will. If he should ride now, whyIt would be the same as murder," she gasped. "You wouldn't make

"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 his villainous smile on his cousin, and the latter interpreted it to mean that 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

Helen Messiter had missed the meaning of that Marconied message that flashed 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 the outlaw, with smiling eyes that mocked.

"Of course he had. He couldn't ride a mile not half a mile. The idea is utterly preposterous."

"I won't have it. Why are you so foolish about going? He said you didn't need to go. You can't ride any more

"Yes, you are!" she derided. "It's nothing but obstinacy. Make him stay," she appealed to the outlaw.

"Am I my cousin's keeper?" he drawled. "I can advise him to stay, but I can't make him."

"Well, I can. I'm his nurse, and I say he sha'n't stir a foot out of this housenot a foot."

The wounded man smiled quietly, admiring the splendid energy of her. "I'm right sorry to leave y'u so

"You're not going." She wheeled on the outlaw "I don't understand this at 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 by

"A haidstrong man is bound to have his way. He seems hellbent on riding. All the docs say the outside of a

"I won't have it. I'll rouse the whole countryside against you. Why don't you parole him till he is better?"

"All right. We'll leave it that way," announced the man. "I'd hate to hurt your tender feelings after such a

pleasant evening. Let him give his parole to come to me whenever I send for him, no matter where he may

be, to quit whatever he is doing right that instant, and come on the jump. If he wants to leave it that way, we'll

Again the rapierthrust of their eyes crossed. The sheepman was satisfied with what he saw in the face of his

There are men whose looks are a profanation to any good woman. Ned Bannister, 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's

charming, buoyant youth. There was Something in his face that sent a flush of shame coursing through her

"Take awful good care of him," he sneered, with so plain an implication of evil that her clean blood boiled.

Helen turned fiercely on her guest. "Why did you make me insist on your staying? As if I want you here, as

if" She stopped, choking with anger; presently flamed out, "I hate you," and ran from the room to hide

The scene on which Helen Messiter's eyes rested that mellow Fourth of July was vivid enough to have

interested a far more jaded mind than hers. Nowhere outside of Cattleland could it have been duplicated.

Wyoming is sparsely populated, but the riders of the plains think nothing of traveling a hundred miles in the

saddle to be present at a "broncobusting" contest. Large delegations, too, had come in by railroad from

Caspar, Billings, Sheridan, Cheyenne and a score of other points, so that the amphitheatre that looked down

All night the little town had rioted with its guests. Everything was wide open at Gimlet Butte. Saloons were

doing a landoffice business and gamblinghouses coining money. Great piles of gold had passed to and fro

during the night at the roulette wheel and the faro table. But with the coming of day interest had centered on

the roughriding contest for the world's championship. Saloons and dance halls were deserted, and the

universal trend of travel had been toward the big grand stands, from which the sport could be best viewed.

It was afternoon now. The preliminaries had been ridden, and half a dozen of the best riders had been chosen

by the judges to ride again for the finals. Helen was wonderfully interested, because in the six who were to

ride again were included the two Bannister cousins, her foreman, McWilliams, the young man "Texas,"

whom she had met the day of her arrival at Gimlet Butte, and Tom Sanford, who had last year won the

She looked down on the arena, and her heart throbbed with the pure joy of life. Already she loved her West

and its picturesque, chapclad population. Their jingling spurs and their colored kerchiefs knotted round

sunburned necks, their frank, wholehearted abandon to the interest of the moment, led her to regard these

youths as schoolboys. Yet they were a hardbitten lot, as one could see, burned to a brickred by the

untempered sun of the Rockies; with muscles knit like steel, and hearts toughened to endure any blizzard they

might meet. Only the humorous wrinkles about the corners of their eyes gave them away for the cheerful sons

"Bob Austin on TwoStep," announced the megaphone man, and a little stir eddied through the group

A meeklooking buckskin was driven into the arena. The embodiment of listlessness, it apparently had not

ambition enough to flick a fly from its flank with its tail. Suddenly the bronco's ears pricked, its sharp eyes

dilated. A man was riding forward, the loop of a lariat circling about his head. The rope fell true, but the wily

pony sidestepped, and the loop slithered to the ground. Again the rope shot forward, dropped over the

pony's head and tightened. The roper's mustang braced its forefeet, and brought the buckskin up short.

Another rope swept over its head. It stood trembling, unable to move without strangling itself.

A picturesque youth in flannel shirt and chaps came forward, dragging blanket, saddle and bridle. At sight of

him the horse gave a spasmodic fling, then trembled again violently. A blind was coaxed over its eyes and the

bridle slipped on. Quickly and warily, with deft fingers, the young 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 an instant the

buckskin stood bewildered, motionless as a statue. There was a sudden leap forward high in air, and Bob

"Fan him! Fan him!" screamed the spectators, and the rider's quirt went up and down like a pistonrod.

Round and round went TwoStep in a vicious circle, "swapping ends" with dizzying rapidity. Suddenly he

went forward as from a catapult, and came to 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 iron posts. The jar on the rider would have been like a piledriver falling on his

head had he not let himself grow limp. The buckskin plunged forward again in frenzied leaps, ending in an

unexpected jump to one side. Alas for Texas! One moment he was jubilantly plying quirt and spurs, the next

he found himself pitching sideways. To save himself he caught at the saddlehorn.

One of the judges rode out and waved a hand. Texas slipped to the ground disqualified, and made his dejected

way back to his deriding comrades. Some of them had endured similar misfortunes earlier in the day.

"If he'd only recollected to saw off the horn of his saddle, then he couldn't 'a' found it when he went to hunt

"'Twould have been most as good as to take the dust, wouldn't it?" retorted Texas gently, and the laugh was

"A fellow's hands sure get in his way sometimes. I reckon if you'd tied your hands, Tex, you'd been riding

"Sometimes it's his foot he puts in it. There was onct a gent disqualified for riding on his spurs," said Texas

At which hit Denver retired, for not three hours before he had been detected digging his spurs into the cinch

"Jim McWilliams will ride Dead Easy," came the announcement through the megaphone, and a burst of

cheering passed along the grand stand, for the sunny smile of the foreman of the Lazy D made him a general

favorite. Helen leaned forward and whispered something gaily to Nora, who sat in the seat in front of her.

The Irish girl laughed and blushed, but when her mistress looked up it was her turn to feel the mounting color

creep into her cheeks. For Ned Bannister, arrayed in all his riding finery, was making his way along the aisle

She had not seen him since he had ridden away from the Lazy D ten days before, quite sufficiently recovered

from his wounds to take up the routine of life again. They had parted not the best of friends, for she had not

yet forgiven him for his determination to leave with his cousin on the night that she had been forced to insist

on his remaining. He had put her in a false position, and he had never explained to her why. Nor could she

guess the reasonfor he was not a man to harvest credit for himself by explaining his own chivalry.

Since her heart told her how glad she was he had come to her box to see her, she greeted him with the coolest

"Oh, certainly!" She swept her skirts aside carelessly and made room for him. "I thought you were going to

"No, I ride last except for Sanford, the champion. My cousin rides just before me. He's entered under the

She was thinking that he had no business to be riding, that his wounds were still too fresh, but she did not

intend again to show interest enough in his affairs to interfere even by suggestion. Her heart had been in her

mouth every moment of the time this morning while he had been tossed hither and thither on the back of his

mount. In his delirium he had said he loved her. If he did, why should he torture her so? It was well enough

A cheer swelled in the grand stand and died breathlessly away. McWilliams was setting a pace it would take

a rare expert to equal. He was a trick rider, and all the spectacular feats that appealed to the onlooker were

his. While his horse was wildly pitching, he drank a bottle of pop and tossed the bottle away. With the reins

in his teeth he slipped off his coat and vest, and concluded a splendid exhibition of skill by riding with his

feet out of the stirrups. He had been smoking a cigar when he mounted. Except while he had been drinking

the pop it had been in his mouth from beginning to end, and, after he had vaulted from the pony's back, he

deliberately puffed a long smokespiral into the air, to show that his cigar was still alight. No previous rider

had earned so spontaneous a burst of applause. "He's ce'tainly a pure when it comes to riding," acknowledged

"My cousin is a straightup rider, too. He's more graceful than Mac, I think, but not quite so good on tricks. It

The next rider suffered defeat irrevocably before he had been thirty seconds in the saddle. His mount was one

of the most cunning of the outlaw ponies of the Northwest, and it brought him to grief by jamming his leg

hard against the fence. He tried in vain to spur the bronco into the middle of the arena, but after it drove at a

post for the third time and ground his limb against it, he gave up to the pain and slipped off.

He shrugged his lean, broad shoulders. "He should have known how to keep the horse in the open. Mac

It took four men and two lariats to subdue this horse to a condition sufficiently tame to permit of a saddle

being slipped on. Even then this could not be accomplished without throwing the bronco first. The result was

that all the spirit was taken out of the animal by the preliminary ordeal, so that when the man from the

"Thumb him! Thumb him!" the audience cried, referring to the cowboy trick of running the thumbs along a

But the rider slipped off with disgust. "Give me another horse," he demanded, and after a minute's

consultation among the judges a second pony was driven out from the corral. This one proved to be a Tartar.

It went off in a frenzy of pitching the moment its rider dropped into the saddle.

"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 his cousin'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 riding well, isn't he?"

The horse put up a superb fight, trying everything it knew to unseat this demon clamped to its back. It

possessed in combination all the worst vices, was a weaver, a sunfisher and a fencerower, and never had it

tried so desperately to maintain its record of never having been ridden. But the outlaw in the saddle was too

much for the outlaw underneath. He was master, just as he was first among the ruffians whom he led, because

The furious bronco surrendered without an instant's warning, and its rider slipped at once to the ground. As

he sauntered through the dust toward the grand stand, Helen could not fail to see how his vanity sunned itself

in the applause that met his performance. His equipment was perfect to the least detail. The reflection from a

lady's lookingglass was no brighter than the silver spurs he jingled on his sprightly heels. Strikingly

handsome in a dark, sinister way, one would say at first sight, and later would chafe at the justice of a verdict

Ned Bannister rose from his seat beside Helen. "Wish me luck," he said, with his gay smile.

"I didn't say I wanted you to win. You take the most unaccountable things for granted."

"As if you could," she mocked; but her voice took a softer intonation as she called after him in a low murmur:

His white teeth flashed a smile of reassurance at her. "I've never been killed yet."

"I'm ce'tainly in luck. Steamboat's the worst hawss on the range," he told himself, as he strode down the grand

The announcement of his name created for the second time that day a stir of unusual interest. Everybody in

that large audience had heard of Ned Bannister; knew of his record as a "bad man" and his prowess as the

king of the Shoshone country; suspected him of being a train and bank robber as well as a rustler. That he

should have the boldness to enter the contest in his own name seemed to show how defiant he was of the

public sentiment against him, and how secure he counted himself in flaunting this contempt. As for the

sheepman, the notoriety that his cousin's odorous reputation had thrust upon him was extremely distasteful as

well as dangerous, but he had done nothing to disgrace his name, and he meant to use it openly. He could

"Ain't it a shame that a fellow like that, leader of all the criminals that hide in the mountains, can show

himself openly before ten thousand honest folks?" That he knew to be the purport of their whispering, and

along with it went a recital of the crimes he had committed. How he was a noted "waddy," or cattlerustler;

how he and his gang had held up three trains in eighteen months; how he had killed Tom Mooney, Bob

Carney and several othersthese were the sorts of things that were being said about him, and from the

There was something in Bannister's riding that caught Helen's fancy at once. It was the unconscious grace of

the man, the ease with which he seemed 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 as it gave with the motions of the horse,

proclaimed him a born rider; so finished, indeed, that his very ease seemed to discount the performance.

Steamboat had a malevolent red eye that glared hatred at the oppressor man, and today it lived up to its

reputation of being the most vicious and untamed animal on the frontier. But, though it did its best to unseat

the rider and trample him underfoot, there was no moment when the issue seemed in doubt save once. The

horse flung itself backward in a somersault, risking its own neck in order to break its master's. But he was

equal to the occasion; and when Steamboat staggered again to its feet Bannister was still in the saddle. It was

a daring and magnificent piece of horsemanship, and, though he was supposed to be a desperado and a

ruffian, his achievement met with a breathless gasp, followed by thunderous applause.

The battle between horse and man was on again, for the animal was as strong almost in courage as the rider.

But Steamboat's confidence had been shaken as well as its strength. Its efforts grew less cyclonic. Foam

covered its mouth and flecked its sides. The pitches were easy to foresee and meet. Presently they ceased

Bannister slid from the saddle and swayed unsteadily across the arena. The emergency past, he had scarce an

ounce of force left in him. Jim McWilliams ran out and slipped an arm around his shoulders, regardless of

"You're all in, old man. Y'u hadn't ought to have ridden, even though y'u did skin us all to a finish."

But Bannister's prediction proved true. The champion, Sanford, had been traveling with a Wild West show,

and was far too soft to compete with these lusty cowboys, who had kept hard from their daily life on the

plains. Before he had ridden three minutes it was apparent that he stood no chance of retaining his title, so

that the decision narrowed itself to an issue between the two Bannisters and McWilliams. First place was

awarded to the latter, the second prize to Jack Holloway and the third to Ned Bannister.

But nearly everybody in the grand stand knew that Bannister had been discriminated against because of his

unpopularity. The judges were not local men, and had nothing to fear from the outlaw. Therefore they

penalized him on account of his reputation. It would never do for the Associated Press dispatches to send

word all over the East that a murderous desperado was permitted, unmolested, to walk away with the

He was sitting beside Nora, and he turned round to express his opinion to the two sitting behind him in the

"We'll not go behind the returns. Y'u won fairly. I congratulate y'u, Mr. Championoftheworld," replied

"I told you to bring that belt to the Lazy D," smiled his mistress, as she shook hands.

Gimlet Butte devoted the night of the Fourth to a high old time. The roping and the other sports were to be on

the morrow, and meanwhile the night hours were filled with exuberance. The cowboy's spree comes only

once in several months, but when it does come he enters into the occasion with such wholehearted

enthusiasm as to make up swiftly for lost time. A traveling midway had cast its tents in a vacant square in

competition with the regular attractions of the town, and everywhere the hardriding punchers were "night

There was a big masked ball in the street, and another in the Masonic Hall, while here and there flared the

lights of the faker with something to sell. Among these last was "Soapy" Sothern, doing a thriving business in

selling suckers and bars wrapped with greenbacks. Crowds tramped the streets blowing horns and throwing

confetti, and everywhere was a large sprinkling of men in highheeled boots, swinging along with the

awkward, stifflegged gait of the cowboy. Sometimes a girl was hanging on his arm, and again he was

"whooping it up with the boys"; but in either case the rangerider's savings were burning a hole through his

Jim McWilliams and the sheepman Bannister had that day sealed a friendship that was to be as enduring as

life. The owner of the sheep ranch was already under heavy obligation to the foreman of the Lazy D, but debt

alone is not enough on which to found soul brotherhood. There must be qualities of kinship in the primeval

elements of character. Both men had suspected that this kinship existed, but today they had proved it in the

way that one had lost and the other had won the coveted championship. They had made no vows and no

professions. The subject had not even been touched in words; a meeting of the eyes, followed by the

handshake with which Bannister had congratulated the winner. That had been all. But it was enough.

With the casual democracy of the frontier they had together escorted Helen Messiter and Nora Darling

through a riotous three hours of carnival, taking care to get them back to their hotel before the night really

But after they had left the young women, neither of them cared to sleep yet. They were still in costume, Mac

dressed as a monk, and his friend as 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 help paint the town," smiled Mac, and his friend

It must have been well after midnight that they found themselves "bucking the tiger" in a combination saloon

and gamblinghouse, whose patrons were decidedly cosmopolitan in character. Here white and red and

yellow men played side by side, the Orient and the Occident and the aboriginal alike intent on the falling

cards and the little rolling ball. A good many of them were still in their masks and dominos, though these, for

Neither McWilliams nor his friend were betting high, and the luck had been so even that at the end of two

hours' play neither of them had at any 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 the gay, 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,

McWilliams gave a little jerk of his head toward one of them. "Judd Morgan," his lips framed without

"Been tanking up all day," Mac added. "Otherwise his tongue would not be shooting off so reckless."

A silence had fallen over the assembly save for the braggarts at the bar. Men looked at each other, and then

furtively at Bannister. For Morgan, ignorant of who was sitting quietly with his back to him at the farotable,

"Both in the same boat. Did y'u see how Mac ran to help him today? Both waddies. Both rustlers. Both train

robbers. Sho! I got through putting a padlock on me mouth. Man to man, I'm as good as either of

themdamn sight better. I wisht they was here, one or both; I wisht they would step up here and fight it out.

Bannister's a false alarm, and that foreman of the Lazy D" His tongue stumbled over a blur of vilification

The man who was with Morgan suddenly whispered in his ear, and the latter slewed his head in startled fear.

Almost instantly a bullet clipped past McWilliams's shoulder. Morgan had fired without waiting for the

challenge he felt sure was at hand. Oncetwice the foreman's revolver made answer. Morgan staggered,

slipped down to the floor, a bullet crashing through the chandelier as he fell. For a moment his body jerked.

The foreman's weapon covered him unwaveringly, but no more steadily than Bannister's gaze the man who

had come in with him who lay lifeless on the floor. The man looked at the lifeless thing, shuddered, and

"I call y'u all to witness that my friend killed him in selfdefense," said Bannister evenly. "Y'u all saw him

"He sure did," was the barkeeper's indorsement. "He came in hunting trouble, but I reckon he didn't want to

"Y'u'll find us at the Gimlet Butte House if we're wanted for this," said Bannister. "We'll be there till

But once out of the gamblinghouse McWilliams drew his friend to one side. "Do y'u know who that was I

"I suspected it a long time, but I knew for sure the day that your cousin held up the ranch. The man that was

in charge of the crowd outside was Morgan. I could swear to it. I knew him soon as I clapped eyes to him, but

"Y'u bet it does. We're in a hell of a hole, figure it out any way y'u like. Instead of having shot up a casual

idiot, I've killed Ned Bannister's righthand man. That will be the excuseshooting Morgan. But the real

trouble is that I won the championship belt from your cousin. He already hated y'u like poison, and he don't

love me any too hard. He will have us arrested by his sheriff here. Catch the point. Y'U'RE NED

BANNISTER, THE OUTLAW, AND I'M HIS RIGHTBOWER. That's the play he's going to make, and

"I don't care if he does. We'll fight him on his own ground. We'll prove that he's the miscreant and not us."

"Prove nothing," snarled McWilliams. "Do y'u reckon he'll give us a chance to prove a thing? Not on your

life. He'll have us jailed first thing; then he'll stir up a sentiment against us, and before morning there will be a

lynchingbee, and y'u and I will wear the neckties. How do y'u like the looks of it?"

"Not if they had time to stop it. Trouble is, fellow's friends think awful 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 he can slap a

"Do y'u suppose I'm enjoying it? Not to any extent, I allow. But that sweet relative of yours holds every ace

in the deck, and he'll play them, 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 best people 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

"Strong! It's invincible. I can see him playing it, laughing up his sleeve all the time at the honest fools he is

working. No, sir! I draw out of a game like that. Y'u don't get a run for your money."

"Sure he knows. That fellow with Morgan made a beeline for him. Just about now he's routing the sheriff

out of his bed. We got no time to lose. Thing is, to burn the wind out of this town while we have the chance."

"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 surrender peaceable? That's the play the 'king' is

going to make in this town. Now if we should spoil a posse and bump off one or two of them, we couldn't

pile up evidence enough to get a jury to acquit. No, sir! We can't surrender and we can't fight. Consequence

"We have an appointment with Miss Messiter and Nora for tomorrow morning. We'll have to leave word we

"Sure. Denver and Missou are playing the wheel down at the Silver Dollar. I reckon we better make those

boys jump and run errands for us while we lie low. I'll drop in casual and give them the word. Meet y'u here

"Better meet farther from the scene of trouble. Suppose we say the north gate of the grand stand?"

The first faint streaks of day were beginning to show on the horizon when Bannister reached the grand stand.

He knew that inside of another halfhour the little frontier town would be blinking in the early morning

sunlight that falls so brilliantly through the limpid atmosphere. If they were going to leave without fighting

He glanced at his watch. "Five minutes after four. I wish I had gone with Mac. He may have been

But even as the thought flitted through his mind, the semidarkness opened 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

"Get into these, seh. Denver shucked them for me. That coyote must have noticed what we wore before he

"Me? I'm scheduled to be Aaron Burr, seh. Missou swaps with me when he gets 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 of

"Denver is rustling some for us. Y'u better be scribbling your billydoo to the girl y'u leave behind y'u, seh."

"Haven't y'u got one to scribble?" Bannister retorted. "Seems to me y'u better get busy, too."

So it happened that when Missou arrived a few minutes later he found this pair of gentlemen, who were about

to flee for their lives, busily inditing what McWilliams had termed facetiously billetsdoux. Each of them

was trying to make his letter a little warmer than friendship allowed without committing himself to any

chance of a rebuff. Mac got as far 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

"My, what a swift trail your pencil leaves on that paper. That's going some. Mine's bogged down before it got

"Well, if you ain't up and started a business college already. I had ought to have brought a typewriter along

"How are things stacking? Our friends the enemy getting busy yet?" asked Bannister, folding and addressing

"That's what. Orders gone out to guard every road so as not to let you pass. What's the matter with me

The sheepman shook his head. "We're not going to start a little private war of our own. We couldn't do that

"That y'u, Denver?" the foreman called softly, as the sound of approaching horses reached him.

"Bet your life. Got your own broncs, too. Sheriff Burns called up Daniels not to let any horses go out from his

corral to anybody without his O.K. I happened to be cinching at the time the 'phone message came, so I

Hastily the fugitives donned the new costumes and dominos, turned their notes over to Denver, and swung to

"Good luck!" the punchers called after them, and Denver added an ironical promise that the foreman had no

doubt he would keep. "I'll look out for NoraDarling." There was a drawling pause between the first and

second names. "I'll ce'tainly see that she don't have any time to worry about y'u, Mac."

"I doubt if we can get out by the roads. Soon as we reach the end of the street we better cut across that

"That's whatever. Then we'll slip past the sentries without being seen. I'd hate to spoil any of them if we can

They rode through the main street, still noisy with the shouts of late revelers returning to their quarters.

Masked men were yet in evidence occasionally, so that their habits caused neither remark nor suspicion. A

good many of the punchers, unable to stay longer, were slipping out of town after having made a night of it.

They dropped into a side street, galloped down it for two hundred yards, and dismounted at a barbwire fence

which ran parallel with the road. The foreman's wireclippers severed the strands one by one, and they led

their horses through the gap. They crossed an alfalfafield, jumped an irrigation ditch, used the clippers

again, and found themselves in a large pasture. It was getting lighter every moment, and while they were still

in the pasture a voice hailed them from the road in an unmistakable command to halt.

They bent low over the backs of their ponies and gave them the spur. The shot they had expected rang out,

"That's right. Shoot up the scenery. Y'u don't hurt us none," the foreman said, apostrophizing the man behind

The next clipped fence brought them to the open country. For half an hour they rode swiftly without halt.

"Won't do. First off, they'll strike right down that way after us. What's the matter with running up Sweetwater

"Good. I have a sheepcamp up that way. I can arrange to have grub sent there for us by a man I can trust."

While they were nooning at a cowspring, Bannister, lying on his back, with his face to the turquoise sky,

became aware that a vagrant impulse had crystallized to a fixed determination. He broached it at once to his

"One thing is a cinch, Mac. Neither y'u nor I will be safe in this country now until we have broken up the

gang of desperadoes that is terrorizing this country. If we don't get them they will get us. There isn't any

doubt about that. I'm not willing to lie down before these miscreants. What do y'u say?"

"I'm proposing that y'u and I make it our business not to have any other business until we clean out this nest

of wolves. Let's go right after them, and see if we can't wipe out the ShoshoneTeton outfit."

"They don't own the United States Government. When they held up a mailtrain they did a fool thing, for

they bucked up against Uncle Sam. What I propose is that we get hold of one of the gang and make him

weaken. 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 get the idea that his hold isn't so strong there's a hundred people that

will testify against him. We'll have him in a Government prison inside of six months."

"I surely am. Y'u're the best man I've met up with in a month of Sundays, seh. Y'u ain't got but one fault; and

that is y'u don't smoke cigareets. Feed yourself about a dozen a day and y'u won't have a blamed trouble left.

Match, seh?" The foreman of the Lazy D, already following his own advice, rolled deftly his smoke,

Bannister looked at his debonair insouciance and laughed. "Water off a duck's back," he quoted. "I know

some folks that would be sweating fear right now. It's ce'tainly an aggravating situation, that of being an

honest man hunted as a villain by a villain. But I expaict my cousin's enjoying it."

"He ain't enjoying it so much as he would if his plans had worked out a little smoother. He's holding the sack

"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 had forgotten. Y'u don't suppose he would take it out of Miss Messiter."

"Not unless he's tired of living," returned her foreman, darkly. "One thing, this country won't stand for is that.

He's got to keep his hands off women or he loses out. He dassent lay a hand on them if they don't want him

"That's the unwritten law for the bad man, but I notice it doesn't seem to 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 he

"He surely would never dare touch those young ladies. ButI don't know. Bann, I guess we better roll along

"I think so." Ned looked at his friend with smiling drollery. "I thought y'u smoked your troubles away, Jim.

McWilliams grinned sheepishly. "There's one trouble won't be smoked away. It kinder dwells. "Then,

apparently apropos of nothing, he added, irrelevantly: "Wonder what Denver's doing right now?"

"I'll bet he is. Funny how some men have all the luck," murmured the despondent foreman.

In point of fact, Denver's occupation at that moment was precisely what they had guessed it to be. He was

sitting beside Nora Darling in the grand stand, explaining to her the fine points of "roping." Mr. Bob Austin,

commonly known as "Texas," was meanwhile trying to make himself agreeable to Helen Messiter. Truth to

tell, both young women listened with divided interest to their admirers. Both of them had heard the story of

the night, and each of them had tucked away in her corsage a scribbled note she wanted to get back to her

room and read again. That the pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the inside were aware that

the "King," masquerading under the name of Jack Holloway, was the active power behind the sheriff

It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called away to take his turn, that the outlaw chief

sauntered along the aisle of the grand 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 by way of introduction, stopping at her box.

She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine courage rose to meet it. There was a daring light in

"Did I say I was enjoying it?" He laughed as he lifted the bar, came into her box and took a seat.

"Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in mourning for a deceased friend."

His dark eyes flashed. "I'll not mourn for him long. He was a mighty trifling fellow, anyhow. Soon as I catch

She met his gaze, and the impact of eyes seemed to shock her physically. The wickedness in him threatened,

gloated, dominated. She shivered in the warm sunlight, and would not have had him know it for worlds.

She knew he was serving notice on her that he meant to win her; and again the little spinal shiver raced over

her. She could not look at his sardonic, evil face without fear, and she could not look away without being

aware of his eyes possessing her. What was the use of courage against such a creature as this?

"Yes, I understand you take a good deal that isn't yours," she retorted carelessly, her eyes on the arena.

"I make it mine when I take it," he answered coolly, admiring the gameness which she wore as a suit of chain

"Isn't it a little dangerous sometimes?" her even voice countered. "When you take what belongs to others 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'u guessed right when y'u said I was enjoying the mo'ning."

"Well, no. I wasn't thinking of him, though he's some sizable. But I'm hunting bigger game than he is, and I

She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. "I might pretend to misunderstand you. But I won't. You may

have your answer now. I am not afraid of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw a

rattlesnake last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I have seen. I'll leave you to guess who."

Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of his face. He leaned forward till his

beady eyes were close to her defiant ones. "Y'u have forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake can

sting. I ask nothing of you. Can't I break your heart without your loving me? You're only a womanand not

His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, and left them to all intents alone. At a touch

of her fingers the handbag in her lap flew open and a little ivoryhilted revolver lay in her hand.

He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. "Sho! If y'u should hit me with that and I should find it out

"Did I say it was for you?" she said coldly; and again the shock of joined eyes ended in drawn battle.

"Have y'u the nerve?" He looked her over, so dainty and so resolute, so silken strong; and he knew he had his

His smoldering eyes burned with desire to snatch her to him and ride away into the hills. For he was a man

who lived in his sensations. He had won many women to their hurt, but it was the joy of conflict that made

the pursuit worth while to him; and this young woman, who could so delightfully bubble with little laughs

ready to spill over and was yet possessed of a spirit so finely superior to the tenderness of her soft, round,

She dropped the revolver back into the bag and shut the clasp with a click, "And now I think, Mr. Bannister,

He rose with a laugh that mocked. "I expaict to spend quite a bit of time understanding y'u one of these days.

Deliberately, without the least haste, he stooped and kissed her before she could rally from the staggering

surprise of the intention she read in his eyes too late to elude. Then, with the coolest bravado in the world, he

Angry sapphires gleamed at him from under the long, brown lashes. She was furious, aghast, daunted. By the

merest chance she was sitting in a corner of the box, so screened from observation that none could see. But

the insolence of him, the reckless defiance of all standards of society, shook her even while it enraged her. He

had put forth his claim like a braggart, but he had made good with an audacity superb in its effrontery. How

she hated him! How she feared him! The thoughts were woven inseparably in her mind. Mephisto himself

could not have impressed himself more imperatively than this strutting, heartless master artist in vice.

She saw him again presently down in the arena, for it was his turn to show his skill at roping. Texas had done

well; very well, indeed. He had made the throw and tie in thirtyseven seconds, which was two seconds

faster than the record of the previous year. But she knew instinctively, as her fascinated eyes watched the

outlaw preparing for the feat, that he was going to win. He would use his success as a weapon against her; as

a means of showing her that he always succeeded in whatever he undertook. So she interpreted he look he

flung her as he waited at the chute for the wild hill steer to be driven into the arena. It takes a good man

physically to make a successful roper. He must be possessed of nerve, skill and endurance far out of the

ordinary. He must be quickeyed, stronghanded, nimble of foot, expert of hand and built like a wildcat. So

Denver explained to the two young women in the box, and the one behind him admitted reluctantly that she

long, lean, supple Centaur waiting impassively at the gateway fitted the specifications.

Out flashed the roughcoated hill steer, wild and fleet as a hare, thin and leggy, with muscles of whipcord.

Down went the flag, and the stopwatches began to tick off the seconds. Like an arrow the outlaw's pony shot

forward, a lariat circling round and round the rider's head. At every leap the cow pony lessened the gap as it

The loop swept forward and dropped over the horns of the animal. The pony, with the perfect craft of long

practice, swerved to one side with a 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 feet were swept from under it as it went

heavily to the ground. Man and horse were perfect in their team work. As the supple rider slid from the back

of the pony it ran to the end of the rope and braced itself to keep the animal from rising. Bannister leaped on

the steer, tierope in hand. Swiftly his deft hands passed to and fro, making the necessary loops and knots.

For a few seconds the judges consulted together. "Twentynine seconds," announced their spokesman, and at

Impudently the scoundrel sauntered up to the grand stand, bowed elaborately to Miss Messiter, and perched

himself on the fence, where he might 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 was really extraordinarily strong, but no

debutante's selfsufficiency could have excelled his. He was so frankly an egotist that it ceased to be a

Back in her room at the hotel an hour later Helen paced up and down under a nervous strain foreign to her

temperament. She was afraid; for the first time in her life definitely afraid. This man pitted against her had

deliberately divorced his life from morality. In him lay no appeal to any conscience court of last resort. But

the terror of this was not for herself principally, but for her flying lover. With his indubitable power, backed

by the unpopularity of the sheepman in this cattle country, the King of the Bighorn could destroy his cousin if

he set himself to do so. Of this she was convinced, and her conviction carried a certainty that he had the will

as well as the means. If he had lacked anything in motive she herself had supplied one. For she was afraid

And as her hand went fluttering to her heart she found small comfort in the paper lying next it that only a few

hours before had brought her joy. For at any moment a messenger might come in to tell her that the writer of

it had been captured and was to be dealt with summarily in frontier fashion. At best her lover and her friend

were but fugitives from justice. Against them were arrayed not only the ruffian followers of their enemy, but

also the lawfully constituted authorities of the county. Even if they should escape today the net would

When word came to Denver and the other punchers of the Lazy D that Reddy had been pressed into service

as a guide for the posse that was pursuing the fugitives they gave vent to their feelings in choice profanity.

"Now, ain't that like him? Had to run around like a locoed calf telling all he knowed and more till Burns

"Trouble with Reddy is he sets his mouth to working and then goes away and leaves it," mourned Jim

"I'd hate to feel as sore as Reddy will when the boys get through playing with him after he gets back to the

Meanwhile Reddy, unaware of being a cause of offense, was cheerfully happy in the unexpected honor that

had been thrust upon him. His will was of putty, molded into the opinion of whomever he happened at the

moment to be with. Just now, with the ironic eye of Sheriff Burns upon him, he was strong for law

"A feller hadn't ought to be so promiscuous with his hardware. This here thing of shooting up citizens don't

do Wyoming no good these days. Capital ain't agoing to come in when such goingson occur," he sagely

opined, unconsciously parroting the sentiment Burns had just been instilling into him.

"That's right, sir. If that ain't horse sense I don't know any. You got a head on you, all right," answered the

The flattered Reddy pleaded guilty to being wiser than most men. "Jest because I punch cows ain't any reason

why I'm anybody's fool. I'll show them smart boys at the Lazy D I don't have to take the dust of any of the

"I would," sympathized Burns. You bet they'll all be almighty jealous when they learn how you was chosen

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 man turned out to be a cowman, with a small ranch not far from the one

"Hello, Henderson! y'u seen anything of Jim McWilliams and another fellow riding acrost this way?" asked

"Nope," answered the cowman promptly. But immediately he modified his statement to add that he had seen

two men riding toward Dry Creek a couple of hours ago. "They was going kinder slow. Looked to me sorter

"Come to think of it, one of the ponies did look like Jim's roan. What's up, boys? Anything doing?"

What Henderson had guessed was the truth. The continuous hard riding had been too much for Bannister and

his wound had opened anew. They were at the time only a few miles from a shack on Dry Creek, where the

Lazy D punchers sometimes put up. McWilliams had attended the wound as best he could, and after a few

hours' rest had headed for the cabin in the hills. They were compelled to travel very slowly, since the motion

kept the sheepman's wound continually bleeding. But about noon they reached the refuge they had been

seeking and Bannister lay down on the bunk with their saddle blankets under him. He soon fell asleep, and

Mac took advantage of this to set out on a foraging expedition to a ranch not far distant. Here he got some

bread, bacon, milk and eggs from a man he could trust and returned to his friend.

It was dark by the time he reached the cabin. He dismounted, and with his arms full of provisions pushed into

The answer was unexpected. Something heavy struck his chest and flung him back against the wall. Before

he could recover his balance he was pinioned fast. Four men had hurled themselves upon him.

"Think I don't savez that? I can take a hint when a whole Methodist church falls on me. Who are y'u,

By the dim light it cast Mac made them out, and saw Ned Bannister gagged and handcuffed on the bed. He

Contrary to his own expectations, the gentleman named was embarrassed "The sheriff, he summoned me to

Mac turned his shoulder on him rather pointedly. "There isn't any need of keeping that gag in my friend's

"That's right, too. Take it out, boys. I got to do my duty, but I don't aim to make any gentleman more

"I'm right glad to hear that, Burns, because my friend isn't fit to travel. Y'u can take me back and leave him

Burns flushed darkly. "It ain't going to do you any good to talk that way. You know mighty well this here

man with you is Bannister. I ain't going to take no chances on losing him now I've got my hand on him."

"Y'u ce'tainly deserve a reelection, and I'll bet y'u get it all right. Any man so given over to duty, so plumb

loaded down to the hocks with conscience as y'u, will surely come back with a big majority next November."

"Oh, y'u don't need votes. Just get the King to O. K. your nomination and y'u'll win in a walk."

"My friend, y'u better mind your own business. Far as I can make out y'u got troubles enough of your own,"

"Y'u don't need to tell me that, Tom Burns' Y'u ain't a mannothing but a stuffed skin worked by a string.

When that miscreant Bannister pulls the string y'u jump. He's jerked it now, so y'u're taking us back to him. I

can prove that coyote Morgan shot at me first, but that doesn't cut any ice with you."

"What made you light out so sudden, then?" demanded the aggrieved Burns triumphantly.

"Because I knew you. That's a plenty good reason. I'm not asking anything for myself. All I say is that my

"Y'u've said enough, Mac," broke in Bannister. "It's awfully good of y'u to speak for me, but I would rather

see it out with you to a finish. I don't want any favors from this yellow dog of my cousin."

The "yellow dog" set his teeth and swore vindictively behind them. He was already imagining an hour when

Helen Messiter, just finishing her breakfast at the hotel preparatory to leaving in her machine for the ranch,

laid down her knife and fork and looked 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 very white, but she fronted the situation

"Yes, ma'am. They're bringing them in now to jail. Watch out and y'u'll see them pass here in a few minutes.

Seems that Bannister's wound opened up on him and he couldn't go any farther. Course Mac wouldn't leave

him. Sheriff Burns and his posse dropped in on them and had them covered before Mac could chirp."

"Not the way I figure it. He'll have the jail watched all day. But he's got to work the town up to a lynching. I

expect the bars will be free for all today. By night the worst part of this town will be ready for anything. The

rest of the citizens are going to sit down and do nothing just because it is Bannister."

He shook his head. "No use, ma'am. I've talked till my throat aches, but it don't do a mite of good. Nobody

"Proof! We have enough, God knows! didn't this villainthis outlaw that calls himself Jack

"That's what we believe, but the report out is that one of us punchers shot him up for crossing the deadline."

"Didn't this fellow hold up the ranch and try to take Ned Bannister away with him?"

"Yes, ma'am. But that doesn't look good to most people. They say he had his friends come to take him away

so y'u wouldn't hold him and let us boys get him. This cousin business is a fairy tale the way they size it up.

How come this cousin to let him go if he held up the ranch to put the sick man out of business? No, miss.

This country has made up its mind that your friend is the original Ned Bannister. My opinion is that nothing

"I don't want your opinion. I'm going to save him, I tell you; and you are going to help. Are his friends

"You're a friend of Jim McWilliams, aren't you? Are you going to sneak away and let these curs hang him?"

Denver flushed. "Y'u're dead right, Miss Helen. I guess I'll see it out with you. What's the orders?"

"I want you to help me organize a defense. Get all Mac's friends stirred up to make a fight for him. Bring as

many of them in to see me during the day as you can. If you see any of the rest of the Lazy D boys send them

in to me for instructions. Report yourself every hour to me. And make sure that at least three of your friends

that you can trust are hanging round the jail all day so as to be ready in case any attempt is made to storm it

"I'll see to it." Denver hung on his heel a moment before leaving. "It's only 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 moment later she added gently: "I have a plan, my

friend, that may stop this outrage yet. But you must do your best for me." She smiled sadly at him. "You're

Through a window the girl could see a crowd pouring down the street toward the hotel. She flew up the stairs

From her point of vantage she easily picked them outthe two unarmed men riding with their hands tied

behind their backs, encircled by a dozen riders armed to the teeth. Bannister's hat had apparently fallen off

farther down the street, for the man beside him was dusting it. The wounded prisoner looked about him

without fear, but it was plain he was near the limit of endurance. He was pale as a sheet, and his fair curls

McWilliams caught sight of her first, and she could see him turn and say a word to his comrade. Bannister

looked up, caught sight of her, and smiled. That smile, so pale and wan, went to her heart like a knife. But the

message of her eyes was hope. They told the prisoners silently to be of good cheer, that at least they were not

"What is it aboutthe crowd?" Nora asked of her mistress as the latter was returning to the head of the stairs.

In as few words as she could Helen told her, repressing sharply the tears the girl began to shed. "This is not

the time to weepnot yet. We must save them. You can do your part. Mr. Bannister is wounded. Get a

doctor over the telephone and see that he attends him at the. Don't leave the 'phone until you have got one to

"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 other practice, if necessary, and is to keep us informed through the day about his patient's

Helen herself hurried to the telegraph office at the depot. She wrote out a long dispatch and handed it to the

He was one of those supercilious young idiots that make the most of such small power as ever drifts down to

them. Taking the message, he tossed it on the table. "I'll send it when I get time."

Her steady eyes caught and held his shifting ones. "I say you are going to send it nowthis very minute."

"If you don't begin sending that message this minute I'll make it my business to see that you lose your

He snatched up the paper from the place where he had tossed it. "Oh, well, if it's so darned important,"

She stood quietly above him while he sent the telegram, even though he contrived to make every moment of

her stay an unvoiced insult. Her wire was to the wife of the Governor of the State. They had been close

friends at school, and the latter had been urging Helen to pay a visit to Cheyenne. The message she sent was

Battle imminent between outlaws and cattlemen here. Bloodshed certain tonight. My foreman last night

killed in selfdefense a desperado. Bannister's gang, in league with town authorities, mean to lynch him and

one of my other friends after dark this evening. Sheriff will do nothing. Can your husband send soldiers

The operator looked up sullenly after his fingers had finished the last tap. "Well?"

"Just one thing more," Helen told him. "You understand the rules of the company about secrecy. Nobody you

knows I am sending this message. If by any chance it should leak out, I shall know through whom. If you

"I know my business," he growled. Nevertheless, she had spoken in season, for he had had it in his mind to

give a tip where he knew it would be understood to hasten the jail delivery and accompanying lynching.

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 there until the answer was received. "I'll send one of the boys up to relieve you so

that you may come with the telegram as soon as it arrives. I want the operator watched all day. Oh, here's Jim

Henson! Denver has explained the situation to you, I presume. I want you to go up to the telegraph office and

stay there all day. Go to lunch with the operator when he goes. Don't let him talk privately to anybody, not

even for a few seconds. I don't want you to seem to have him under guard before outsiders, but let him know

it very plainly. He is not to mention a wire I sent or the answer to itnot to anybody, Jim. Is that plain?"

"Y'u bet! He's a clam, all right, till the order is countermanded." And the young man departed with a cheerful

Nora, from answering a telephone call, came to report to the general in charge. "The doctor says that he has

looked after Mr. Bannister, and there is no immediate danger. If he keeps quiet for a few days he ought to do

well. Mr. McWilliams sent a message by him to say that we aren't to worry about him. He said he

Nora, bursting into tears, flung herself into Helen's arms. "They are going to kill him. I know they are,

andand 'twas only yesterday, ma'am, I told him not toto get gay, the poor boy. When he tried toto"

Her mistress smiled in spite of herself, though she was bitterly aware that even Nora's grief was only

"We're going to save him, Nora, if we can. There's hope while there's life. You see, Mac himself is full of

"Yes, ma'am, but this is the first gentleman friend I ever had hanged, and" She broke off, sobbing, leaving

Helen filled it out aloud. "And you were going to say that you care more for him than any of the others. Well,

"Yes, ma'am," agreed Nora, very repentant for the moment of the fact that it was her nature to play with the

hearts of those of the male persuasion. Immediately she added: "He was THAT kind, ma'am,

Helen, whose own heart was breaking, continued to soothe her. "Don't say WAS, child. You are to be brave,

"Yes, ma'am. He told me he was going to buy cows with the thousand dollars he won yesterday. I knew he

"Yes, of course. It's a cowboy's way of saying that he means to start housekeeping. Have you the telegram,

He handed her the yellow slip. She ripped open the envelope and read: Company B en route. Railroad

connections uncertain Postpone crisis long as possible. May reach Gimlet Butte by tenthirty.

Her first thought was of unspeakable relief. The militia was going to take a hand. The boys in khaki would

come marching down the street, and everything would be all right. But hard on the heels of her instinctive

gladness trod the sober second thought. Tenthirty at best, and perhaps later! Would they wait that long, or

would they do their cowardly work as soon as night fell She must contrive to delay them till the train drew 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. She knew he would come if she sent for him. But how long could she keep him? As long as

he was amused at her agony, as long as his pleasure in tormenting her was greater than his impatience to be at

Throughout the day she continued to receive hourly reports from Denver, who always brought with him four

or five honest cowpunchers from upcountry to listen to the strange tale she unfolded to them. It was, of

course, in part, the spell of her sweet personality, of that shy appeal she made to the manhood in them; but of

those who came, nearly all believed, for the time at least, and aligned themselves on her side in the struggle

that was impending. Some of these were swayed from their allegiance in the course of the day, but a few she

Meanwhile, all through the day, the enemy was busily at work. As Denver had predicted, free liquor was

served to all who would drink. The town and its guests were started on a grand debauch that was to end in

violence that might shock their sober intelligence. Everywhere poisoned whispers were being flung broadcast

Dusk fell on a town crazed by bad whiskey and evil report. The deeds of Bannister were hashed and rehashed

at every bar, and nobody related them with more ironic gusto than the man who called himself Jack

Holloway. There were people in town who knew his real name and character, but of these the majority were

either in alliance with him or dared not voice their knowledge. Only Miss Messiter and her punchers told the

From the first moment of darkness Helen had the outlaw leader dogged by two of her men. Since neither of

these were her own riders this was done without suspicion. At intervals of every quarter of an hour they

reported to her in turn. Bannister was beginning to drink heavily, and she did not want to cut short his

dissipation by a single minute. Yet she 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 a minute 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 evil when the note reached him. He read it with a

satisfaction he could not conceal. So! He had brought her already to her knees. Before he was through with

"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 sternly when she went to meet the man she

feared; and never had it been more in evidence than in this hour of her greatest torture. Blithely she came

forward to meet him, eye challenging eye gayly. No hint of her anguish escaped into her manner. He read

there only coquetry, the eternal sex conflict, the winsome defiance of a woman hitherto the virgin mistress of

all assaults upon her heart's citadel. It was the last thing he had expected to see, but it was infinitely more

piquant, more intoxicating, than desperation. She seemed to give the lie to his impression of her love for his

Carelessly, almost indolently, she put the question, her raised eyebrows indicating a chair with perfunctory

hospitality. He had not meant to sit, had expected only to gloat a few minutes over her despair; but this

situation called for more deliberation. He had yet to establish the mastery his vanity demanded. Therefore he

"This is ce'tainly an unexpected honor. Did y'u send for me to explain some more about that sufficient

It was a great relief to her to see that, though he had been drinking, as she had heard, he was entirely master

"I sent for you to congratulate you," she answered, with a smile. "You are a bigger man than I thought. You

have done what you said you would do, 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 go out?" he asked brutally.

She laughed lightly. "Hardly. But it does seem as if I'm unlucky in my foremen. They all seem to have

She settled herself comfortably back in an easy chair, as alluring a picture of buoyant, radiant youth as he had

seen in many a day. "But the terms. I am afraid I can't offer you as much as you make at your present

"So you could. But if you use my time for your own profit, you ought to pay me a royalty on your intake."

His eyes lit with laughter. "I reckon that can be arranged. Any percentage you think fair It will all be in the

"I think that is one of the things about which we don't agree," she made answer softly, flashing him the proper

He leaned forward, elbow on the chairarm and chin in hand. "We'll agree about it one of these days."

Just an eyebeat her gaze met his, with that hint of shy questioning, of puzzled doubt that showed a growing

How she hated her task, and him! She was a singularly honest woman, but she 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 half of passion and half of selfishness. It was

a hateful thing to do, this sacrifice of her personal reticence, of the individual abstraction in which she

wrapped herself as a cloak, in order to hint at a possibility of some intimacy of feeling between them. She

shrank from it with a repugnance hardly to be overcome, but she held herself with an iron will and

consummate art to the role she had undertaken. Two lives hung on her success. She must not forget that. She

So, bravely she played her part, repelling always with a hint of invitation, denying with the promise in her

fascinated eyes of ultimate surrender to his ardor. In the zest of the pursuit the minutes slipped away

unnoticed. Never had a woman seemed to him more subtly elusive, and never had he felt more sure of

himself. Her charm grew on him, stirred his pulses to a faster beat. For it was his favorite sport, and this

warm, supple young creature, who was to be the victim of his bow and arrow, showed herself worthy of his

The clock downstairs struck the halfhour, and Bannister, reminded of what lay before him outside, made a

move to go. Her alert eyes had been expecting it, and she forestalled him by a change of tactics. Moved

apparently by impulse, she seated herself on the pianostool, swept the keys for an instant with her fingers,

and plunged into the brilliant "Carmen" overture. Susceptible as this man was to the influence of music, he

could not fail to be arrested by so perfect an interpretation of his mood. He stood rooted, was carried back

again in imagination to a great artiste's rendering of that story of fierce passion and aching desire so

brilliantly enacted under the white sunbeat of a country of cloudless skies. Imperceptibly she drifted into

other parts of the opera. Was it the wild, gypsy seductiveness of _Carmen_ that he felt, or, rather, this

American girl's allurement? From "Love will like a birdling fly" she slipped into the exquisitely graceful

snatches of song with which _Carmen_ answers the officer's questions. Their rare buoyancy marched with his

mood, and from them she carried him into the song "Over the hill," that is so perfect and romantic an

How long she could have held him she will never know, for at that inopportune time came blundering one of

his men into the room with a call for his presence to take charge of the situation outside.

"Can't wait any longer, can't they?" snapped his chief. "Y'u tell them they'll wait till I give the word.

He almost flung the man out of the room, but Helen noticed that she had lost him. His interest was

perfunctory, and, though he remained a little time longer, it was to establish his authority with the men rather

He rose to go. "There is a little piece of business I have to put through. So I'll have to ask y'u to excuse me. I

have had a delightful hour, 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 to me; I count them over, every one apart,

"Dear me! One certainly lives and learns. How could I have guessed that, with your reputation, you could

His vanity purred, so softly she stroked it. "Can't. Wish I could. Y'u hear how noisy things are getting. I've

The triumph of victory mounted to his head. "I'll come back when I've done what I've got to do."

The outraged woman in her, curbed all evening with an iron bit, escaped from control. Delightedly he

laughed. The hot spirit in her pleased him mightily. He took her little hands and held them in one of his while

he smiled down at her. "I guess that kiss will keep, my girl, till I come back."

All her terror, all her detestation and hatred of him, looked haggardly out of her unmasked face. His narrowed

"Because I know a better revenge. I'm going out to take it now. After your lover is dead, I'll come back and

"Never!" She stood before him like a queen in her lissom, brave, defiant youth. "And as for your cousin, you

may kill him, but you can't destroy his contempt for you. He will die despising you for a coward and a

It was true, and he knew it. In his heart he cursed her, while he vainly sought some weapon that would strike

"I make you a present of the information. I love him, and I despise you. Nothing can change those facts," she

"Mebbe, but some day y'u'll crawl on your knees to beg my pardon for having told me so."

"I'm going to break y'u, my beauty, so that y'u'll come running when I snap my fingers."

"And in the meantime I'll go hang your lover." He bowed ironically, swung on his jingling heel, and strode

She stood there listening to his dying footfalls, then covered her face with her hands, as if to press back the

It was understood that the sheriff should make a perfunctory defense against the mob in order to "square" him

with the voters at the election soon to be held. But the word had been quietly passed that the bullets of the

prison guards would be fired over the heads of the attackers. This assurance lent an added braggadocio to the

Dutch courage of the lynchers. Many of them who would otherwise have hung back distinguished themselves

Bannister himself generaled the affair, detailing squads to batter down the outer door, to guard every side of

the prison, and to overpower the sheriff's guard. That official, according to programme, appeared at a window

and made a little speech, declaring his intention of performing his duty at whatever cost. He was hooted down

The yells of the attackers mingled with the sound of the axeblows and the report of revolvers from inside

the building. Among those nearest to the door being battered down were Denver and the few men he had with

him. His plan offered merely a forlorn hope. It was that in the first scramble to get in after the way was

opened he and his friends might push up the stairs in the van, and hold the corridor for as long as they could

It took less than a quarter of an hour to batter down the door, and among the first of those who sprang across

the threshold were Denver, Missou, Frisco and their allies. While others stopped to overpower the struggling

deputies according to the arranged farce, they hurried upstairs and discovered the cell in which their friends

Frisco passed a revolver through the grating to McWilliams, and another to 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 these little

Meanwhile Denver, a young giant of seventysix inches, held the head of the stairs, with four stalwart

plainsmen back of him. The rush of many feet came up pellmell, and he flung the leaders back on those

"Hold on there. This isn't a freelunch counter. Don't you see we're crowded up here already?"

"What's eating you ? Whyfor, can't we come?" growled one of the foremost nursing an injured nose.

"I've just explained to you, son, that it's crowded. Folks are prevalent enough up here right now. Send up that

"What's that? What's that?" The outlaw chief pushed his way through the dense mob at the door and reached

"Who won't?" demanded Bannister sharply, and at once came leaping up the stairs.

"Nothing doing," drawled Frisco, and tossed him over the railing on to the heads of his followers below.

They carried Bannister into the open air, for his head had struck the newelpost in his descent. This gave the

"They're going to come ashooting next time," remarked Denver. "Just as soon as he comes back from

"Y'u bet," agreed Missou. We'll last about three minutes when the stampede begins."

Denver's face lit. "Make it five minutes, Missou, and Mac is safe. At least, I'm hoping so awful hard. Miss

Helen wired for the militia from Sheridan this nothing. Chances are they're on that train. I couldn't tell you

earlier because she made me promise not to. She was afraid it might leak out and get things started sooner. "

Weak but furious, the miscreant from the Shoshones returned to the attack. "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 the mob.

"We'll rush them from both sides, and show those guys on the landing whether they can stop us," added

Suddenly some one raised the cry, "The soldiers!" Bannister looked up the street and swore a vicious oath.

Swinging down the road at double time 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 the nearest dark alley.

The mob scattered by universal impulse; disintegrated so promptly that within five minutes the soldiers held

the ground alone, save for the officials of the prison and Denver's little band.

A boyish lieutenant lately out of the Point, and just come in to a lieutenancy in the militia, was in command.

"Y'u bet," chuckled Denver. "We're right glad to see you, and I'll bet those boys in the cage ain't regretting

your arrival any. Fifteen minutes later and you would have been in time to hold the funeral services, I

"She's at the Elk House, colonel. I expect some of us better drift over there and tell her it's all right. She's the

gamest little woman that ever crossed the Wyoming line. Hadn't been for her these boys would have been

across the divide hours ago. She's a plumb thoroughbred. Wouldn't give up an inch. All day she has generaled

this thing; played a mighty weak hand for a heap more than it was worth. Sand? Seh: she's grit clear through,

if anybody asks you." And Denver told the story of the day, making much of her unflinching courage and

It was ten minutes past eleven when a smooth young, applecheeked lad in khaki presented himself before

"I am Lieutenant Beecher. Governor Raleigh presents his compliments by me, Miss Messiter, and is very

glad to be able to put at your service such forces as are needed to quiet the town."

"With about five minutes to spare. I am having the prisoners brought here for the night if you do not object.

In the morning I shall investigate the affair, and take such steps as are necessary. In the meantime you may

"Thank you I am sure that with you in command everything will now be all right, and I am quite of your

opinion that the prisoners had better stay here for the night. One of them is wounded, and ought to be given

The young man blushed. This was the right kind of appreciation. He wished his old classmates at the Point

"Certainly. And now, Miss Messiter, if there is nothing you wish, I shall retire for the night. You may sleep

"I am sure I may, lieutenant." She gave him a broadside of trusting eyes full of admiration. "But perhaps you

would like me to see my foreman first, just to relieve my mind. And, as you were about to say, his friend

The young man promptly assented, though he had not been aware that he was about to say anything of the

They came in together, Bannister supported by McWilliams's arm. The eyes of both mistress and maid

brimmed over with tears when they saw them. Helen dragged forward a chair for the sheepman, and he sank

"I've heard about it," he told her, in a low voice. "I've heard how y'u fought for my life all day. There's

nothing I can say. I owed y'u everything already twice, and now I owe it all over again. Give me a lifetime

Helen's swift glance swept over Nora and the foreman. They were in a dark alcove, oblivious of anybody

else. Also they were in each other's arms frankly. For some reason wine flowed into the cream of Helen's

"I hope not. If it is, I'm sure bankrupt Even my thanks seem to stay at home. If y'u hadn't done so much for

me, perhaps I could tell y'u how much y'u had done But I have no words to say it."

"It's enough, since you mean it, even though it isn't true," she answered gently.

As it chanced they were close to the window, their shadows reflected on the blind. A man, slipping past in the

street on horseback, stopped at sight of that lighted window, with the moving shadows, in an uncontrollable

white fury. He slid from the saddle, threw the reins over the horse's head to the ground, and slipped his

revolver from its holster and back to make sure that he could draw it easily. Then he passed springily across

the road to the hotel and up the stairs. He trod lightly, stealthily, and by his very wariness defeated his

purpose of eluding observation. For a pair of keen eyes from the hotel office glimpsed the figure stealing past

Helen, who had been pouring a glass of cordial for the spent and wounded sheepman, put the glass down on

the table and turned at sound of the silken, sinister voice. After one glance at the vindictive face, from the

cold eyes of which hate seemed to smolder, she took an instinctive step toward her lover. The cold wave that

drenched her heart accompanied an assurance that the man in the doorway meant trouble.

His sleek smile arrested her. He was standing with his feet apart, his hands clasped lightly behind his back, as

"Ah, make the most of what ye yet may spend, Before ye, too, into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and

he misquoted, with a sneer; and immediately interrupted his irony to give way to one of his sudden blind

With incredible swiftness his right hand moved forward and up, catching revolver from scabbard as it rose.

But by a fraction of a second his purpose had been anticipated. A closed fist shot forward to the salient jaw in

time to fling the bullets into the ceiling. An arm encircled the outlaw's neck, and flung him backward down

the stairs. The railing broke his fall, and on it his body slid downward, the weapon falling from his hand. He

pulled himself together at the foot of the stairs, crouched for an upward rush, but changed his mind instantly.

The young officer who had flung him down had him covered with his own sixshooter. He could hear

footsteps running toward him, and he knew that in a few seconds he would be in the hands of the soldiers.

Plunging out of the doorway, the desperado vaulted to the saddle and drove his spurs home. For a minute

hoofs pounded on the hard, white road. Then the night swallowed him and the echo of his disappearance.

"That was Bannister of the Shoshones and the Tetons," the girl's white lips pronounced to Lieutenant

"And I let him get away from me," the disappointed lad groaned. "Why, I had him right in my hands. I could

have throttled him as easy. But how was I to know he would have nerve enough to come rushing into a hotel

"Y'u have a very persistent cousin, Mr. Bannister," said McWilliams, coming forward from the alcove with

shining eyes. "And I must say he's game. Did y'u ever hear the like? Come butting in here as cool as if he

hadn't a thing to do but sing out orders like he was in his own home. He was 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 have been done. Did you learn your boxing at the Academy, Lieutenant?" Helen

"I was the champion middleweight of our class," Beecher could not help saying boyishly, with another of his

"I wish y'u would teach me how to double up a man so prompt and immediate," said the admiring foreman.

"I expect I'm under particular obligations to that straight right to the chin, Lieutenant," chimed in the

sheepman. "The fact is that I don't seem to be able to get out anything except thanks these days. I ought to

send my cousin a letter thanking him for giving me a chance to owe so much kindness to so many people."

"Oh, I'm strong enough." He glanced at Helen. "Perhaps we had better not tire Miss Messiter with it. If y'u'll

"I should like, above all things, to hear it again," interrupted that young woman promptly.

For the man she loved had just come back to her from the brink of the grave and she was still reluctant to let

So Ned Bannister told his story once more, and out of the alcove came the happy foreman and Nora to listen

to the tale. While he told it his sweetheart's contented eyes were on him. The excitement of the night burnt

pleasantly in her veins, for out of the nettle danger she had plucked safety for her sheepman.

The Fourth of July celebration at Gimlet Butte had been a thing of the past for four days and the Lazy D had

fallen back into the routine of ranch life. The riders were discussing supper and the continued absence of

He stood near the doorway and grinned with embarrassed guilt at the assembled company.

"I reckon I got too much Fourth of July at Gimlet Butte, boys. That's how come I to be onpunctual getting

There was a long silence, during which those at the table looked at him with an expressionless gravity that

Without comment the Lazy D resumed supper. Apparently it had not missed Reddy or noticed his return.

Casual conversation was picked up cheerfully. The return of the prodigal was quite ignored.

"Then that blamed cow gits its back up and makes a beeline for Rogers. The old man hikes for his pony

"Seems good to git my legs under the old table again," interrupted Reddy with cheerful unease.

"loses by about half a second," continued Missou. "If Doc hadn't roped its hind laig"

"Have some cigars, boys. I brought a box back with me." Reddy tossed a handful on the table, where they

"there's no telling what would have happened. As 'twas the old man got off with a"

The interrupted anecdote went on to a finish and the men trooped out and left the prodigal alone with his

hash. When that young man reached the bunkhouse Frisco was indulging in a reminiscence. Reddy got only

"Yep! When I was working on the Silver Dollar. Must abeen three years ago, I reckon, when Jerry Miller

"Threw down the outfit in a row they had with the Lafferty crowd, didn't he?" asked Denver.

Mac got up, glanced round, and reached for his hat. "I reckon I'll have to be going," he said, and forthright

Reddy reached for HIS hat and rose. "I got to go and have a talk with Mac," he explained.

"Don't hurry, Reddy. It ain't polite to rush away right after dinner. Besides, Mac will be here all day. He ain't

"But Mac didn't have a most particular engagement with the boys. There's a difference."

"Gents, I move y'u that it be the horse sense of the Lazy D that our friend Mr. Reddy Reeves be given gratis

one chapping immediately if not sooner. The reason for which same being that he played a lowdown trick on

"And that Denver, being some ablebodied and having a good reach, be requested to deliver same to the gent

Reddy backed in alarm to the wall. "Y'u boys don't want to get gay with me. Y'u can't monkey with"

Just as Reddy whipped out his revolver Denver's long leg shot out and his foot caught the wrist behind the

weapon. When Reddy next took cognizance of his surroundings he was serving as a mattress for the anatomy

of three stalwart riders. He was gently deposited face down on his bunk with a onehundredeightypound

Denver selected a pair of plain leather chaps with care and proceeded to business. What he had to do he did

with energy. It is safe to say that at least one of those present can still vividly remember this and testify to his

Mac drifted in after the disciplining. As foreman it was fitting that he should be discreetly ignorant of what

"That y'u I heard singing, Reddy? Seems to me y'u had ought to take that voice into grand opera. The way y'u

straddle them high notes is a caution for fair. What was it y'u was singing? Sounded like 'Would I were far

McWilliams looked round innocently. "I judge some of y'u boys must abeen teasing Reddy from his

"I shouldn't wonder but he'll hold his conversations standing for a day or two," returned Missou gravely.

Well, y'u boys want to be gentle with him." "He's so plumb tender now that I reckon he'll get along without

Mac departed laughing. He had an engagement that recurred daily in the dusk of the evening, and he was

always careful to be on time. The other party to the engagement met him at the kitchen door and fell with him

"I'm not," protested Nora indignantly. "If you think you're the only man on the place, Jim McWilliams "

"You think you're awful funnywriting in my autograph album that a spinster's best friend is her powder

"You know very well you wrote that in yourself and pretended it was Mr. Halliday, signing his name and

"Now do I look like a forger?" he wanted to know with innocence on his cherubic face.

"Anyway you know it was mean. Mr. Halliday wouldn't do such a thing. You take your arm down and keep it

"That ain't my name, Nora, darling, and I'd like to know where my arm belongs if it isn't round the prettiest

"I'm not sure I'm going to stay engaged to you," announced the young woman coolly, walking at the opposite

"You needn't lecture me. I'm not your wife and I don't think I'm going to be," cut in Nora, whose temper was

"Y'u surely wouldn't make me sue y'u for breach of promise, would y'u?" he demanded, with a burlesque of

"Now don't y'u get mad at me, honey. I was only joking," he explained as he pursued her.

"You think you can laugh at me all you please. I'll show you that you can't," she informed him icily.

"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

And with a final "Good night" flung haughtily over her shoulder Miss Nora Darling disappeared into the

Mac took off his hat and gazed at the door that had been closed in his face. He scratched his puzzled poll in

"I ce'tainly got mine good and straight just like Reddy got his. But what in time was it all about? And me

thinkin' I was a graduate in the study of the ladies. I reckon I never did get jarred up so. It's plumb

If he could have caught a glimpse of Nora at that moment, lying on her bed and crying as if her heart would

In a little hillrift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was a deserted miner's cabin.

The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of the buildings below, while at the same time the

pines that surrounded it screened the shack from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke was rising from

"It's his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I look for him to drop down on the ranch. His

hate's kind of volcanic, Mr. Ned Bannister's is, and it's bound to bubble over mighty sudden one of these

"It did bubble over some when he drove two thousand of my sheep over the bluff and killed the whole outfit,"

"Yes, I reckon that's some irritating," agreed McWilliams. "But if I know him, he isn't going to be content

"Or woman," agreed the other. "Especially when he thinks he can cut y'u deeper by striking at her. If he

Bannister nodded agreement. "He's near the end of his rope. He could see that if he were blind. When we

captured Bostwick and they got a confession out of him, that started the landslide against him. It began to be

noised abroad that the government was going to wipe him out. Folks began to lose their terror of him, and

after that his whole outfit began to 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 scoundrels for that two thousand dollars reward."

The foreman strolled negligently to the door. His eyes drifted indolently down into the valley, and

The sheepman leaped to his feet and strode to the door. Down in the valley a light was gleaming in a window.

"She wants us both," cried the foreman, running to the little corral back of the house.

He presently reappeared with two horses, both saddled, and they took the downward trail at once.

"She can if he gives her a chance, and I think he will. There's a kind of cat instinct in him to play with his

"Yes, but he missed his kill last time by letting her fool him. That's what I'm afraid of' that he won't wait."

They had reached lower ground now, and could put their ponies at a pounding gallop that ate up the trail fast.

As they approached the houses, both men drew rein and looked carefully to their weapons. Then they slid

What the foreman had said was exactly true. Helen Messiter did want them both, and she wanted them very

After supper she had been dreamily playing over to herself one of Chopin's waltzes, when she became aware,

by some instinct, that she was not alone in the room. There had been no least sound, no slightest stir to betray

an alien presence. Yet that some one was in the room she knew, and by some subtle sixth sense could even

Without turning she called over her shoulder: "Shall I finish the waltz?" No faintest tremor in the clear, sweet

"Y'u're a cool hand, my friend," came his ready answer. "But I think we'll dispense with the music. I had

She laughed as she swung on the stool, with that musical scorn which both allured and maddened. "I did

"This is the return match. You won then. I win now," he told her, with a look that chilled.

"Only the immediate future. Y'u're mine, my beauty, and I mean to take y'u with me."

Just a disdainful sweep of her eyes she gave him as she rose from the pianostool and rearranged the lamps.

"You mean so much that never comes to pass, Mr. Bannister. The road to the nether regions is paved with

good intentions, we are given to understand. Not that yours can by any stretch of imagination be called 'good

"Contrariwise, then, perhaps the road to heaven may be paved with evil intentions. Since y'u travel the road

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 his brain. Surely no maiden had ever been more desirable than this one, who

held him in such contemptuous estimation that only her steady eyes moved at his approach. These held to his

and defied him, while she stood leaning 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 him the satisfaction of flying an inch from

"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 pleasure in breaking," he told her, with an admiration half ironic but wholly genuine. "Pools of

At the touch of his lips upon her eyelids a shiver ran through her, but still she made no movement, was cold

"Your lips," he continued to catalogue, "are ripe as fresh flesh of Southern fruit. No cupid ever possessed so

This time it was the mouth he kissed, the while her unconquered spirit looked out of the brave eyes, and fain

would have murdered him. In turn he kissed her cold cheeks, the tip of one of her little ears, the small,

"For the present, and now, having put the seal of my ownership on her more obvious charms, I'll take my

"Nay, you'll die later, Madam Bannister, but not for many years, I hope," he told her, with a theatrical bow.

"Rather so strong that the glory of overcoming y'u fills me with joy. Believe me, madam, though your master

"You are neither my master nor my slave, but a thing I detest," she said, in a low voice that carried

"Then, in faith, we'll reenact a modern edition of 'The Taming of the Shrew.' Y'u'll find me, sweet, as apt at

the part as old Petruchio." He paced complacently up the room and back, and quoted glibly:

"And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. He that knows better how to tame a shrew, Now let him,

"Y'u have said it. What's your will to me? What I want I take. And I sure want my beautiful shrew." His

halfshuttered eyes gloated on her as he rattled off a couple more lines from the play he had mentioned.

"Kate, like the hazeltwig, Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue As hazelnuts, and sweeter than the

She let a swift glance travel anxiously to the door. "You are in a very poetical mood today."

"As befits a bridegroom, my own." He stepped lightly to the window and tapped twice on the pane. "A signal

to bring the horses round. If y'u have any preparations to make, any trousseau to prepare, y'u better set that

Nora, as it chanced, knocked and entered at his moment. The sight of her vivid good looks truck him for the

first time. At sight of him she stopped, gazing with parted lips, a double row of pearls shining through.

He turned swiftly to the mistress. "Y'u ought not to be alone there among so many men. It wouldn't be proper.

"To Arden, my dear." He interrupted himself to look at his watch. "I wonder why that fellow doesn't come

Bannister, standing jauntily with his feet astride as he looked out of the window, heard someone enter the

At sound of the slow drawl the outlaw wheeled like a flash, his hand traveling to the hilt of the revolver that

hung on his hip. But he was too late. Already two revolvers covered him, and he knew that both his cousin

and McWilliams were dead shots. He flashed one venomous look at the mistress of the ranch.

"Y'u fooled me again. That lamp business was a signal, and I was too thickhaided to see it. My compliments

"Y'u don't say." His voice was full of sarcastic admiration. "And you done it with your little gun! My, what a

"Take your hand from the butt of that gun. Y'u better relieve him of it, Mac. He's got such a restless

The outlaw intentionally misunderstood. "If I've got to take y'u, then we'll say y'u go dead rather than alive."

Instantly the man swung round on her. "But now I've changed my mind, ma'am. I'm going to take my cousin

Helen caught his meaning first, and flashed it whitely to her lover. It dawned on him more slowly.

"I see y'u remember, Miss Messiter," he continued, with a cruel, silken laugh. "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 the back

"What's come over this happy family? It don't look so joyous all of a sudden. Y'u don't need to worry, ma'am,

I'll send him back to y'u all rightalive 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, and struck her lover's heart.

murmured the villain in the chair, apparently to the ceiling. "Dear Ned, he always was the soul of honor. I'll

"Yes, but he will take you into the mountain fastnesses, where the men that serve him will do his bidding.

"What's that?" The outlaw broke off the snatch of opera he was singing to slew his head round at

"We're giving y'u surplusage, that's all. Y'u wanted one of us, and y'u get two. We don't charge anything for

Whereat Nora emerged from the background and flung herself on him. "Y'u can't go, Jim! I won't have you

The young man blushed a beautiful pink, and accepted gladly this overt evidence of a reconciliation. "It's all

right, honey. Don't y'u think two big, grownup men are good to handle that scalawag? Sho! Don't y'u

"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 an ironical

"I think we had better cut it down to me alone. We'll not burden your hospitality, sir," said the sheepman.

Bannister, the outlaw, eyed him unpleasantly. "Y'u certainly can so far as I am concerned. I owe y'u one, too,

Mr. McWilliams. Only if y'u come of your own free will, as y'u are surely welcome to do, don't holler if

"I'll try and look out for that. It's settled, then, that we ride together. When do y'u want to start?"

"We can't go any sooner than right now. I hate to take these young men 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 the door and

turned, leaning against the jamb with one hand again it. "I expect y'u can say those loveydov goodbyes

without my help. I'm going into the yard. If y'u want to y'u can plug me in the back through the window," he

Nora and the young man who belonged to her followed him from the room, leaving Bannister and his hostess

"I think so," the sheepman answered. "The truth is that this opportunity falls pat. Jim and have been wanting

to meet those men who are under my cousin's influence and have a talk with them. There is no question but

that the gang is disintegrating, and I believe that if we offer to mediate between its members and the

Government something might be done to stop the outrages that have been terrorizing this country. My cousin

can't be reached, but I believe the rest of them, or, at least a part, can be induced either to surrender or to flee

"Is less than y'u think. Their leader has not anywhere nearly the absolute power he had a few months ago.

"We shall keep an eye on him. Both of us will not sleep at the same time. Y'u may depend on me to bring

"And your foreman's friend," he added. "I have the best of reasons for wanting to return alive. I think y'u

It had come at last, but, womanlike, she evaded the issue her heart had sought. "Yes, I know. You think it

would not be fair to throw away your life in this foolish manner after I have saved it for youhow many

times was it you said?" The blue eyes lifted with deceptive frankness to the 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 to take your life. That's a selfish kind of

"Why should I tell you, since you don't love me enough to give up this quixotic madness?"

"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 me to be a quitter, and y'u so game yourself? Do y'u want it to go all over this cattle

"The boy that takes a dare isn't a hero, is he! There's a higher courage that refuses to be drawn into such

"I don't think that is a parallel case. I'm sorry, we can't see this alike, but I've got to go ahead the way that

"Yes, if that's the way y'u have to put it." He looked at her sorrowfully, and added gently: "I thought you

But she could not bear that he should leave her so, and she cried out after him. "Oh, I see it. I know you must

go; but I can't bear it." Her head buried itself in his coat. "It isn't rightit isn't aa square deal that you

A happy smile shone in his eyes. "I belong to you, do I? That's good hearing, girl o' mine." His arm went

round her and he stroked the black head 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 piece of work I have to do."

"Nothing is going to happen to me. There is a special providence looks after lovers, y'u know."

"I'll dry my socks every time I get my feet wet for fear of taking cold," he laughed.

Even then she could hardly let him go, clinging to him with a reluctance to separate that was a new

experience to her independent, vigorous youth. In the end he unloosened her arm, kissed her once, and

hurried out of the room. In the hallway he met McWilliams, also hurryin out from a tearful farewell on the

Bannister, the outlaw, already mounted, was waiting for them. "Y'u did get through at last, he drawled

insolently. "Well, if y'u'll kindly give orders to your sevenfoot dwarf to point the Winchester another way

For, though the outlaw had left his men in command of the ranch when he went into the house, he found the

situation reversed on his return. With the arrival of reinforcements, in the persons of McWilliams and his

The outlaw chief whistled for his men, and with their guests they rode into the silent, desert night.

There were three of the outlaw's men with him, and both Mcwilliams and his friend noticed that they slept a

little apart from their chief. There were other indications among the rustlers of a camp divided against itself.

Bannister's orders to them he contrived to make an insult, and their obedience was as surly as possible

compatible with safety. For all of the men knew that he would not hesitate to shoot them down in one of his

Throughout the night there was no time that at least two men were not awake in the camp. The foreman and

the sheepman took turns keeping vigil; and on the other side of the fire sat one of the rustlers in silent

watchfulness. To the man opposite him each of the sentinels were outposts of the enemy, but they fraternized

after the manner of army sentries, exchanging tobacco and occasional casual conversation.

The foreman took the first turn, and opposite him sat a oneeyed old scoundrel who had rustle calves from

big outfits ever since Wyoming was a territory and long before. Chalkeye Dave, he was called, and

sometimes merely Chalkeye. What his real name was no man knew. Nor was his past a subject for

conversation in his presence. It was known that he had been in the Nevada penitentiary, and that he had killed

a man in Arizona, but these details of an active life were rarely resurrected. For Chalkeye was deadly on the

shoot, and was ready for it at the drop of the hat, though he had his good points too. One of these was a

remarkable fondness for another member of the party, a mere lad, called by his companions Hughie.

Generally surly and morose, to such a degree that even his chief was careful to humor him as a rule, when

with Hughie all the softer elements of his character came to the surface. In his rough way he was ever

Jim McWilliams found him neither, however. He declined to engage in conversation, accepted a proffer of

tobacco with a silent, hostile grunt and 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'll ce'tainly pine for you," the foreman

suggested, with sarcasm, when the old man rolled up in his blankets preparatory to falling asleep

Chalkeye's successor was a blatant youth much impressed with his own importance. He was both

foulmouthed and foulminded, so that Jim was constrained to interrupt his evil boastings by pretending to

It was nearly two o'clock when the foreman aroused his friend to take his turn. Shortly after this the lad

Hughie was a flaxenhaired, rather goodlooking boy of nineteen. In his small, wistful face was not a line of

wickedness, though it was plain that he was weak. He seemed so unfit for the life he was leading that the

sheepman's interest was aroused. For on the frontier it takes a strong, competent miscreant to be a bad man

and survive. Ineffectives and weaklings are quickly weeded out to their graves or the penitentiaries.

The boy was manifestly under great fear of his chief, but the curly haired young Hermes who kept watch with

him had a very winning smile and a charming manner when he cared to exert it. Almost in spite of himself

the youngster was led to talk. It seemed that he had but lately joined the TetonShoshones outfit of

desperadoes, and between the lines Bannister easily read that his cousin's masterful compulsion had coerced

the young fellow. All he wanted was an opportunity to withdraw in safety, but he knew he could never do this

Under the starroof in the chill, breaking day Ned Bannister talked to him long and gently. It was easy to

bring the boy to tears, but it was harder thing to stiffen a will that was of putty and to hearten a soul in mortal

fear. But he set himself with all the power in him to combat the influence of his cousin over this boy; and

They ate breakfast in the gray dawn under the stars, and after they had finished their coffee and bacon horses

were saddled and the trail taken up again. It led in and out among the foothills slopping upward gradually

toward the first long blue line of the Shoshones that stretched before them in the distance. Their nooning was

at running stream called Smith's Creek, and by nightfall the party was well up in the higher foot hills.

In the course of the day and the second night both the sheepman and his friend made attempt to establish a

more cordial relationship with Chalkeye, but so far as any apparent results went their efforts were vain. He

refused grimly to meet their overtures half way, even though it was plain from his manner that a break

All day by crooked trails they pushed forward, and as the party advanced into the mountains the gloom of the

mournful pines and frowning peaks invaded its spirits. Suspicion and distrust went with it, camped at night

by the rushing mountain stream, lay down to sleep in the shadows at every man's shoulder. For each man

looked with an ominous eye on his neighbor, watchful of every sudden move, of every careless word that

Along a narrow rockrim trail far above a steep canon, whose walls shot precipitously down, they were

riding in single file, when the outlaw chief pushed his horse forward between the road wall and his cousin's

"I reckon this trail isn't wide enough for twounless y'u take the outside," he explained quietly.

The outlaw, who had been drinking steadily ever since leaving the Lazy D, laughed his low, sinister cackle.

"'Twas a place about like this I drove for thousand of your sheep over last week. With sheep worth what they

are I'm afraid it must have cost y'u quite a bit. Not that y'u'll miss it where you are going," he hastened to add.

"Think so?" The "King's" black gaze rested on him. "Y'u'll sing a different song soon Mr. Bannister. It's

"I'll get the chance. I'm not worrying about that. And about those sheepany man that hasn't got more sense

"Those sheep were on the right side of the deadline. You had to cross it to reach them." Their owner's steady

"Is that so? Now how do y'u know that? We didn't leave the herder alive to 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 join your

Rage flared in the other's eye. "Too good for me, are y'u, my mealymouthed cousin? Y'u always thought

yourself better than me. When y'u were a boy you used to go sneaking to that old hypocrite, your

"You have said enough," interrupted the other sternly. "I'll not hear another word. Keep your foul tongue off

"Y'u'll not hear a word!" sneered the chief of the rustlers. "What will y'u do, dear cousin?

Still their steely eyes crossed as with the thrust of rapiers. The challenged man crouched tensely with a

mighty longing for the test, but he had planned a more elaborate revenge and a surer one than this.

"Why should I? Y'u're mine. We're four to two, and soon we'll be a dozen to two. I'd like a heap to oblige y'u,

but I reckon I can't afford to just now. Y'u will have to wait a little for that bumping off that's coming to y'u."

"In that event I'll trouble you not to inflict your society on me any more than is necessary

"That's all right, too. If y'u think I enjoy your conversation y'u have got another guess coming."

So by mutual consent the sheepman fell in behind the blatant youth who had wearied McWilliams so and

It was again getting close to nightfall. The slant sun was throwing its rays on less and less of the trail. They

could see the shadows grow and the coolness of night sift into the air. They were pushing on to pass the rim

of a great valley basin that lay like a saucer in the mountains in order that they might camp in the valley by a

stream all of them knew. Dusk was beginning to fall when they at last reached the saucer edge and only the

opposite peaks were still tipped with the sun rays. This, too, disappeared before they had descended far, and

the gloom of the great mountains that girt the valley was on all their spirits, even McWilliams being affected

They were tired with travel, and the long night watches did not improve tempers already overstrained with

the expectation of a crisis too long dragged out. Rain fell during the night, and continued gently in a misty

drizzle after day broke. It was a situation and an atmosphere ripe for tragedy, and it fell on them like a clap of

Hughie was cook for the day, and he came chill and stifffingered to his task. Summer as it was, there lay a

thin coating of ice round the edges of the stream, for they had camped in an altitude of about nine thousand

feet. The "King" had wakened in a vile humor. He had a splitting headache, as was natural under the

circumstances and he had not left in his bottle a single drink to tide him over it. He came cursing to the

struggling fire, which was making only fitful headway against the rain which beat down upon it.

Now, Hughie was a tenderfoot, and in his knowledge of outdoor life he was still an infant. "I didn't know"

he was beginning, when his master cut him short with a furious tongue lashing out of all proportion to the

The lad's face blanched with fear, and his terror was so manifest that the bully, who was threatening him with

all manner of evils, began to enjoy himself. Chalkeye, returning from watering the horses, got back in time to

hear the intemperate fagend of the scolding. He glanced at Hughie, whose hands were trembling in spite of

him, and then darkly at the 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 to a powder magazine. Whatever thoughts might be each man kept

Hughie jumped up, filled the cup that was handed him and set the coffee pot back on fire. As he handed the

tin cup with the coffee to the outlaw the lad's foot slipped on a piece wet wood, and the hot liquid splashed

over his chief's leg. The man jumped to his feet in a rage and struck the boy across the face with his whip

"By God, that'll do for you!" cried Chalkeye from the other side of the fire, springing revolver in hand.

The "King" wheeled, finding his weapon he turned. Two shots rang out almost simultaneously, and Chalkeye

pitched forward. The outlaw chief sank to his knees, and, with one hand resting on the ground to steady

himself fired two more shots into the twitching body on the other side of the fire. Then he, too, lurched

It had come to climax so swiftly that not one of them had moved except the combatants. Bannister rose and

walked over to the place where the body of his cousin lay. He knelt down and examined him. When he rose it

McWilliams, who had been bending over Chalkeye, looked up. "Here, too. Any one of the shots would have

Bannister nodded. "Yes. That first exchange killed them both." He looked down at the limp body of his

cousin, but a minute before so full of supple, virile life. "But his hate had to reach out and make sure, even

though he was as good as dead himself. He was game." Then sharply to the young braggart, who had risen

and was edging away with a face of chalk: "Sit down, y'u! What do y'u take us for? Think this is to be a

The man came back with palpable hesitancy. "I was aiming to go and get the boys to bury them. My God, did

you ever see anything so quick? They drilled through each other like lightning."

Mac looked him over with dry contempt. "My friend, y'u're too tender for a genuwine A1 bad man. If I was

handing y'u a bunch of advice it would be to get back to the prosaic paths of peace right prompt. And while

we're on the subject I'll borrow your guns. Y'u're scared stiff and it might get into your fool coconut to plug

one of us and light out. I'd hate to see y'u commit suicide right before us, so I'll just natcherally unload y'u."

He was talking to lift the strain, and it was for the same purpose that Bannister 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 whole cattle

country. We'll have peace here at last. Now he's gone, honest men are going to breathe easy. I'll take y'u in

hand and set y'u at work on one of my stations, if y'u like. Anyhow, you'll have a chance to begin life again in

"That's right," agreed the blatant youth. "I'm sick of rustling the mails 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 sudden raucous

McWilliams's cold blue eye transfixed him "Hadn't you better be a little careful how your mouth goes off?

For one thing, he's daid now; and for another, he happens to be Mr. Bannister's cousin."

"That's how I understand it. But this man's passed over the range. A MAN doesn't unload his hatred on dead

folksand I expect if y'u'll study him, even y'u will be able to figure out that my friend measures up to the

"No, I don't suppose y'u do," interrupted the foreman, turning on his heel. Then to Bannister, who was

looking down at his cousin with a stony face: "I reckon, Bann, we better make arrangements to have the

Bannister was thinking of early days, of the time when this miscreant, whose light had just been put out so

instantaneously, had played with him day in and day out. They had attended their first school together, had

played marbles and prisoners' base a hundred times against each other. He could remember how they used to

get up early in the morning to go fishing with each other. And later, when each began, unconsciously, to

choose the path he would follow in already beginning to settle into an established fact. He could see now, by

looking back on trifles of their childhood, that his cousin had been badly handicapped in his fight with

himself against the evil in him. He had inherited depraved instincts and tastes, and with them somewhere in

him a strand of weakness that prevented him from slaying the giants he had to oppose in the making of a

good character. From bad to worse he had gone, and here he lay with the drizzling rain on his white face, a

warning and a lesson to wayward youths just setting their feet in the wrong direction. Surely it was kismet.

Ned Bannister untied the handkerchief from his neck and laid it across the face of his kinsman. A moment

longer he looked down, then passed his hands across his eyes and seemed to brush away the memories that

"We'll go on, Mac, to the rendezvous he had appointed with his outfit. We ought to reach there by noon, and

It had been six days since the two Ned Bannisters had ridden away together into the mountains, and every

waking hour since that time had been for Helen one of harassing anxiety. No word had yet reached her of the

issue of that dubious undertaking, and she both longed and dreaded to hear. He had promised to send a

messenger as soon as he had anything definite to tell, but she knew it would be like his cousin, too, to send

her some triumphant word should he prove the victor in the struggle between them. So that every stranger she

But it was not the nature of Helen Messiter to sit down and give herself up a prey to foreboding. Her active

nature cried out for work to occupy her and distract her attention. Fortunately this was to be had in abundance

just now. For the autumn roundup was on, and since her foreman was away the mistress of the Lazy D

The meeting place for the roundup riders was at Boom Creek, five miles from the ranch, and Helen rode out

there to take charge of her own interests in person. With her were six riders, and for the use of each of them

in addition to his present mount three extra ponies were brought in the remuda. For the riding is so hard

during the roundup that a horse can stand only one day in four of it. At the appointed rendezvous a score of

other cowboys and owners met them. Without any delay they proceeded to business. Mr. Bob Austin, better

known as "Texas," was elected boss of the roundup, and he immediately assigned the men to their places

and announced that they would work Squaw Creek. They moved camp at once, Helen returning to the ranch.

It was three o'clock in the morning when the men were roused by the cook's triangle calling them to the

"chuck wagon" for breakfast. It was still cold and dark as the boys crawled from under their blankets and

squatted round the fire to eat jerky, biscuits and gravy, and to drink cupfuls of hot, black coffee. Before sun

rose every man was at his post far up on the Squaw Creek ridges ready to begin the drive.

Later in the day Helen rode to the parade grounds, toward which a stream of cattle was pouring down the

canyon of the creek. Every gulch tributary to the creek contributed its quota of wild cows and calves. These

came romping down the canyon mouth, where four picked men, with a bunch of tame cows in front of them,

stopped the rush of flying cattle. Lunch was omitted, and branding began at once. Every calf belonging to a

Lazy D cow, after being roped and tied, was flanked with the great D which indicated its ownership by Miss

Messiter, and on account of the recumbent position of which letter the ranch had its name.

It was during the branding that a boyish young fellow rode up and handed Helen a note. Her heart pumped

rapidly with relief, for one glance told her that it was in the handwriting of the Ned Bannister she loved. She

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 it would be a great service to me if you would give him something

to do till I return. His name is Hugh Rogers. I think if you trust him he will prove worthy of it.

Jim and I are going to stay here a few days longer to finish the work that is begun. We hope to meet and talk

with as many of the men implicated in my cousin's lawlessness as is possible. What the result will be I cannot

say. We do not consider ourselves in any danger whatever, though we are not taking chances. If all goes well

She liked the letter because there was not a hint of the relationship between them to be read in it. He had

guarded her against the chance of its falling into the wrong hands and creating talk about them.

"In a way, ma'am. I can't ride like these men." His glance indicated a cowpuncher pounding past after a wild

"All right. You have your chance. I'll see that Mr. Austin finds something for you to do. From today you are

She rode back to the ranch in the late afternoon, while the sun was setting in a great splash of crimson. The

roundup boss had hinted that if she were nervous about riding alone he could find it convenient to

accompany her. But the girl wanted to be alone with her own thoughts, and she had slipped away while he

was busy cutting out calves from the herd. It had been a wonderful relief to her to find that HER Ned

Bannister was the one that had survived in the conflict, and her heart sang a paean of joy as she rode into the

golden glow of the westering sun. He was aliveto love and be loved. The unlived years of her future

seemed to unroll before her as a vision. She glowed with a resurgent happiness that was almost an ecstasy.

The words of a bit of verse she had once seena mere scrap from a magazine that had stuck in an obscure

Ah, the way before them, before her and her romanceradiating hero! It might he rough and hilly, but if they

trod it together Her tangled thoughts were off again in another glad leap of imagination.

The days passed somehow. She busied herself with the affairs of the ranch, rode out often to the scenes of the

cattle drives and watched the roundup, and every twentyfour hours brought her one day nearer to his

return, she told herself. Nora, too, was on the lookout under her longlashed, roguish eyelids; and the two

young women discussed the subject of their lovers' return in that elusive, elliptical way common to their sex.

No doubt each of these young women had conjectured as to the manner of that homecoming and the meeting

that would accompany it; but it is safe to say that neither of them guessed in her daydreams how it actually

Nora had been eager to see something of the roundup, and as she was no horsewoman her mistress took her

out one day in her motor. The drive had been that day on Bronco Mesa, and had finished in the natural corral

made by Bear Canon, fenced with a cordon of riders at the end opening to the plains below. After watching

for two hours the busy scenes of cutting out, roping and branding, Helen wheeled her car and started down

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 are driven, after a little milling around, the whole bunch may gentle almost

immediately, or, on the other hand, it may break through and go crashing away on a wild stampede at a

moment's notice. Every experienced cowman knows enough to expect the unexpected.

At Bronco Mesa the roundup had proceeded with unusual facility. Scores of wiry, longlegged steers had

drifted down the ridges or gulches that led to the canon; and many a cow, followed by its calf, had stumbled

forward to the herd and apparently accepted the inevitable. But before Helen Messiter had well started out of

A big hill steer, which had not seen a man for a year, broke through the human corral with a bellow near a

point where Reddy kept guard. The puncher wheeled and gave chase, Before the other men could close the

opening a couple of twoyearolds seized the opportunity and followed its lead. A second rider gave chase,

and at once, as if some imp of mischief had stirred them, fifty tails went up in wild flight. Another minute and

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 space of

about fifty yards, and in her excitement she made the mistake of choosing 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

Nora glanced back in affright at the two hundred and fifty tons of beef that was charging wildly toward them.

"Run!" cried Helen, following her example and scudding for the sides of the canyon, which here sloped down

less precipitately than at other points. But before they had run a dozen steps each of them was aware that they

could not reach safety in time to escape the hoofs rushing toward them so heavily that the ground quaked.

"Look out!" A resonant cry rang out above the dull thud of the stampeding cattle that were almost upon them.

Down the steep sides of the gorge two riders were galloping recklessly. It was a race for life between them

and the first of the herd, and they won by scarce more than a length. Across the sand the horses plowed, and

as they swept past the two trembling young women each rider bent from the saddle without slackening speed,

The danger was not past. As the horses swerved and went forward with the rush Helen knew that a stumble

would fling not only her and the man who had saved her, but also the horse down to death. They must

contrive to hold their own in that deadly rush until a way could be found of escaping 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 the sand with double weight upon its back.

As he spoke they reached the end of the canyon and firm ground simultaneously. Helen saw that her rescuer

had now a revolver in his hand, and that he was firing in such a way as to deflect the leaders to the left. At

first the change in course was hardly perceptible, but presently she noticed that they were getting closer to the

outskirts of the 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 had one shot left in his revolver, and this

time he did not fire into the air. It was a mighty risk, for the animal in falling might stagger against the horse

and hunt them all down to death. But the man took it without apparent hesitation. Into the ear of the bullock

he sent the lead crashing. The brute stumbled and went down head over heels. Its flying hoofs struck the

flanks of the pony, but the bronco stuck to its feet, and next moment staggered out from among the herd

The man slid from its back and lifted down the halffainting girl. She clung to him, white a trembling. "Oh, it

was horrible, Ned!" She could still look down in imagination upon the sea of dun backs that swayed and

"It was a near thing, but we made it, girl. So did Jim. He got out before we did. It's all past now. You can

She shuddered. "I don't want to remember it at all." And so shaken was she that she did not realize that his

"A cattle stampede is a nasty thing to get in front of. Never mind. It's done 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

"I think we did. There will be no more Shoshone gang. It's members have scatted in all directions."

"I'm glad you stayed, then. We can live at peace now." And presently she added: "I knew you would not

come back until you had done what you set out to do. You're very obstinate, sir. Do you know that?"

"Perseverance, I call it," he smiled, glad to see that she was recovering her lightness of tone.

"You don't always insist on putting your actions in the most favorable light. Do you remember the first day I

"I didn't mean THAT. What I was getting at was that you let me go away from you thinking you were 'the

"If you valued my good opinion I don't see how you could let me go without telling me. Was it fair or kind?"

"If y'u come to that, was it so fair and kind to convict me so promptly on suspicion?" he retaliated with a

"No, it wasn't. But" She flushed with a divine shyness. "But I loved you all the time, even when they said

"I didn't. I never would believe you onenot deep in my heart. I wouldn't let myself. I made excuses for

He adored her for the frank simplicity of her confession, that out of the 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 girl could be.

"Y'u always swamp my vocabulary, sweetheart. I can't ever tell y'ulife wouldn't be long enoughhow

They stood looking at each other, palms pressed to palms in meeting hands, supremely happy in this miracle

of love that had befallen them. They were alonefor Nora and Jim had gone into temporary eclipse behind a

hill and seemed in no hurry to emergealone in the sunshine with this wonder 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

of contact with the supple, surrendered figure, then released her as she drew away in maidenly reserve.

"When shall we be married, Helen? Is the early part of next week too late?" he asked.

Still blushing, she straightened her hat. "That's ridiculous, sir. I haven't got used to the thought of you yet."

"Plenty of time for that afterward. Then we'll say next week if that suits y'u."

"But it doesn't. Don't you know that it is the lady's privilege to name the day? Besides, I want time to change

"That's what I'm afraid of," he laughed joyfully. "So I have to insist on an early marriage."

"I've been told on the best of authority that I'm very obstinate," he gayly answered.

"I have a mind of my own myself. If I ever marry you be sure I shall name the day, sir."

"We'll see." The eyes slanted at him under the curved lashes, teased him delightfully. "Did Nora tell you she

Bannister looked mildly hurt. "My common sense has been telling it to me a month."