her irresolute.

She was malicious enough to observe in silence the unobtrusive
pantomime by which the enemy tried to coax a semblance of warmth into
his cold coffee. He had begun by pouring cream into it, but the cream
refused to assimilate and only made the mixture look less inviting.

"I'm glad I met you today," he said, while she was getting her breath.
"Looks lonesome around here. Not much doing at the mines, is there?"

"Not a great deal," she answered coldly.

"How about Barb Doubleday--is he up at the mines, or here?"

He was indifferently lifting matches from the stand at his hand,
striking them and burning them patiently against the side of his cup of
coffee. Like a flash came to Kate with his question, the thought that
this disagreeable person must be the court officer. He looked up at
her now as if waiting for an answer: "Why do you ask?" she countered.

"Mostly because I'd like to hear you say something."

"Anything, I suppose," she suggested ironically.

"That's not far from it," was the reply. "Also, I want to see Barb."

"What about?" she asked, borrowing his own assurance. It was time, she
thought, for defensive strategy.

"Just a little business matter." It was long, very long afterward that
Kate learned, and fully realized, the significance of the indifferently
spoken words; when she did, she wondered that a man's manner could so
completely mask all that lay behind them.

"He isn't hiring any men," she ventured, adapting a set phrase she had
often heard Belle use.

"And in spite of my looks," he returned, "I'm not hunting a job--for a
wonder."

But now that Kate wanted to hear more he took his turn at reticence.
"Where are you from?" she asked as unconcernedly as she could.

"Medicine Bend."

"From the marshal's office?" It was foolish of her to ask. She fairly
blurted out the words. He looked at her for the first time keenly--and
just the change in his expression, undefinable but unmistakable, almost
frightened her to death.

"I was in the marshal's office yesterday," he answered, picking up a
sandwich evasively. Kate was no longer doubtful. This was the man to
serve the dreaded, summons. An instant of panic seized her.
Fortunately her persecutor was regarding his stubborn coffee as he
stirred it. Her heart, which had stopped, started with a thump. Her
thoughts cleared. Instinct, self-preservation, asserted itself. She
thought hard and fast. The first step was to