wept over
till her lover decided she had had all the emotion that was good for her,
whereupon he took her back to the home of her aunt and with all the
newborn authority of his position ordered her to bed.

"But it's only three o'clock in the afternoon," Lee protested.

"Good-night," answered Billie inexorably.

She surrendered meekly. "If you say I must, my lord. I _am_ awf'lly
tired." Little globes of gladness welled up in her eyes. "Everybody's so
good to me, Billie. I didn't know folks were so kind. I can't think what
I can ever do to pay them back."

"I'll tell you how. You be good to yourself, honey," he told her with a
sudden wave of emotion as he caught and held her tight in his arms. "You
quit takin' chances with blizzards an' crazy gunmen an'--"

"--And horsethieves hidden in the chaparral?" she asked with a flash of
demure eyes.

"You're goin' to take an awful big chance with one ex-horsethief. Lee,
I'm the luckiest fellow on earth."

She nestled closer to him. Her lips trembled to his kiss.

"Billie, you're sure, aren't you?" she whispered. "It wasn't just pity
for me."

He chose to reassure her after the fashion of a lover, in that wordless
language which is as old as Eden.

His heart was full of her as he swung down the street buoyantly. He
had known her saucy, scornful, and imperious. He had known her gay
and gallant, had been the victim of her temper. Occasionally he had
seen glimpses of tenderness toward Pauline and of motherliness
toward Jim Clanton. But never until last night had he found her
dependent and clinging. Her defense against him had been a manner of cool
self-reliance. In the stress of her need that had been swept aside to
show her flamy and yet shy, quick with innocent passion. She wanted him
for a mate, just as he wanted her, and she made no concealment of it. In
the candor of her love he exulted.

Lee slept round the clock almost twice and appeared for a late breakfast.
Her aunt told her some news with which Live-Oaks was buzzing.

Go-Get-'Em Jim had ridden into town, stopped at the sheriff's office, and
demanded cynically the thousand dollars offered by the Webb estate for
his arrest.

"He'll come to no good end," prophesied Miss Snaith, senior.

"You don't quite understand him, aunt," protested Lee. "That's just his
way. He likes to grand-stand, and he does it rather well. But he isn't
half so bad as he makes out. He says he did not shoot Mr. Webb, and we
feel sure h