me
swift, low monotone: "And besides, Black Bart has found the trail of the
man who fired the barn and shot him. And the body of Buck won't be cold
before Dan will be on the heels of the other man. Oh, Dad, two lives lay
in the hollow of your hand. You could have saved them by merely asking
Dan to stay with you; but you've thrown them away."

"Buck Daniels!" repeated the old man, the horror of the thing dawning on
him only slowly. "Why didn't he get farther away? Why didn't he ride
night and day after he left us? He's got to be warned that Dan is
coming!"

"I've thought of that. I'm going into my room now to write a note and
send it to Buck by one of our men. But at the most he'll have less than
a day's start--and what is a day to Satan and Dan Barry?"

"I thought it was for the best," muttered old Joe. "I couldn't see how
it was wrong. But I can send for Dan and tell him that I've changed my
mind." He broke off in a groan. "No, that wouldn't be no good. He's set
his mind on going by this time, and nothing can keep him back. But
--Kate, maybe I can delay him. Has he gone up to his room yet?"

"He's in there now. Talk softly or he'll hear us. He's walking up and
down, now."

"Ay, ay, ay!" nodded old Joe, his eyes widening with horror, "and his
footfall is like the padding of a big cat. I could tell it out of a
thousand steps. And I know what's going on inside his mind!"

"Yes, yes; he's thinking of the blow Buck Daniels struck him; he's
thinking of the man who shot down Bart. God save them both!"

"Listen!" whispered the cattleman. "He's raised the window. I heard the
rattle of the weights. He's standing there in front of the window,
letting the wind of the night blow in his face!"

The wind from the window, indeed, struck against the door communicating
with Joe Cumberland's room, and shook it as if a hand were rattling at
the knob.

The girl began to speak again, as swiftly as before, her voice the
barely audible rushing of a whisper: "The law will trail him, but I
won't give him up. Dad, I'm going to fight once more to keep him
here--and if I fail, I'll follow him around the world." Such words
should have come loudly, ringing. Spoken so softly, they gave a terrible
effect; like the ravings of delirium, or the monotone of insanity. And
with the white light against her face she was more awe-inspiring than
beautiful. "He loved me once; and the fire must still be in him; such
fire _can't_ go out, and I'll fan it