ure.
That she did not receive his insinuation seriously but added fuel to the
unreasoning jealousy beginning to flame in Smith's breast.

Yet Smith treated Ralston with a consideration which was surprising in
view of the wanton insults he frequently inflicted upon those whom he
disliked. Susie guessed the reason for his superficial courtesy, and
Ralston, perhaps, suspected it also. In his heart, Smith was afraid. First
and always, he was a judge of men--rather, of certain qualities in men. He
knew that should he give intentional offense to Ralston, he would be
obliged either to retract or to back up his insult with a gun. Ralston
would be the last man to accept an affront with meekness.

Smith did not wish affairs to reach this crisis. He did not want to force
an issue until he had demonstrated to his own satisfaction that he was the
better man of the two with words or fists or weapons. But once he found
the flaw in Ralston's armor, he would speedily become the aggressor. Such
were Smith's tactics. He was reckless with caution; daring when it was
safe.

The role he was playing gave him no concern. Though the Indian woman's
spells of sullenness irritated him, he conciliated her with endearing
words, caresses, and the promise of a speedy marriage. He appeased her
jealousy of Dora by telling her that he studied the foolish book-words
only that he might the better work for her interests; that he was fitting
himself to cope with the shrewd cattlemen with whom there were constant
dealings, and that when they were married, the Schoolmarm should live
elsewhere. Like others of her sex, regardless of race or color, the Indian
woman believed because she wanted to believe.

Just where his actions were leading him, Smith did not stop to consider.
He had no fear of results. With an overweening confidence arising from
past successes, he believed that matters would adjust themselves as they
always had. Smith wanted a home, and the MacDonald cattle, horses, and
hay; but more than any of them he wanted Dora Marshall. How he was going
to obtain them all was not then clear to him, but that when the time came
he could make a way, he never for a moment doubted.

Smith's confidence in himself was supreme. If he could have expressed his
belief in words, he might have said that he could control Destiny, shape
events and his own life as he liked. He had been shot at, pursued by
posses, all but lynched upon an occasion, and always he had esca