t's a week in your young life?" Kirby suggested.

"A week's a week, and I don't intend to stay. Why did you limp when
you came in? Get hurt?"

"Not really hurt. Jammed my leg against a fence. I drew Wild Fire."

"Did you win the championship?" the girl asked eagerly.

"No. Finals to-morrow. Sanborn an' me. How's the arm? Bone broken?"

"Yes. Oh, it aches some. Be all right soon."

He drew her letters from his pocket. "Stopped to get your mail at the
hotel. Thought you'd like to see it."

Wild Rose looked the envelopes over and tore one open.

"From my little sister Esther," she explained. "Mind if I read it?
I'm some worried about her. She's been writing kinda funny lately."

As she read, the color ebbed from her face. When she had finished
reading the letter Kirby spoke gently.

"Bad news, pardner?"

She nodded, choking. Her eyes, frank and direct, met those of her
friend without evasion. It was a heritage of her life in the open that
in her relations with men she showed a boylike unconcern of sex.

"Esther's in trouble. She--she--" Rose caught her breath in a stress
of emotion.

"If there's anything I can do--"

The girl flung aside the rug that covered her and rose from the chair.
She began to pace up and down the room. Presently her thoughts
overflowed in words.

"She doesn't say what it is, but--I know her. She's crazy with
fear--or heartache--or something." Wild Rose was always
quick-tempered, a passionate defender of children and all weak
creatures. Now Lane knew that the hot blood was rushing stormily to
her heart. Her little sister was in danger, the only near relative she
had. She would fight for her as a cougar would for its young. "By
God, if it's a man--if he's done her wrong--I'll shoot him down like a
gray wolf. I'll show him how safe it is to--to--"

She broke down again, clamping tight her small strong teeth to bite
back a sob.

He spoke very gently. "Does she say--?"

His sentence hung suspended in air, but the young woman understood its
significance.

"No. The letter's just a--a wail of despair. She--talks of suicide.
Kirby, I've got to get to Denver on the next train. Find out when it
leaves. And I'll send a telegram to her to-night telling her I'll fix
it. I will too."

"Sure. That's the way to talk. Be reasonable an' everything'll work
out fine. Write your wire an' I'll take it right to the office. Soon
as I've got the train schedule I'