that he
might give it to the woman upon her birthday. Each time that she screeched
the refrain, "Love, I will love you always," she lifted her chin to sing
it to the man beaming down upon her, while upstairs her trunk was packed
to desert him.

Smith always remembered with satisfaction that he had left her in Red
Lodge with only the price of a telegram to her husband, in her shabby
purse.

"I like your style, girl." His eyes swept Dora Marshall's figure as he
spoke.

There was a difference in his tone, a familiarity in his glance, which
sent the color flying to the Schoolmarm's cheeks.

"I think we could hit it off--you and me--if we got sociable."

He leaned toward her and laid his gloved hand upon hers as it rested on
the saddle-horn.

The pupils of her eyes dilated until they all but covered the iris as she
turned them, blazing, upon Smith.

"Just what do you mean by that?"

There was no mistaking the genuineness nor the nature of the emotion which
made her voice vibrate. But Smith considered. Was she deeper--"slicker,"
as he phrased it to himself--than he had thought, or had he really
misunderstood her? Surprising as was the feeling, he hoped some way, that
it was the latter. He looked at her again before he answered gently:

"I didn't mean to make you hot none, Miss. I'm ignorant in handlin' words.
I only meant to say that I hoped you and me would be good friends."

His explanation cleared her face instantly.

"I am sorry if I misunderstood you; but one or two unpleasant experiences
in this country have made me quick--too quick, perhaps--to take offense."

"There's lots just lookin' for game like you. No better nor brutes," said
Smith virtuously, entirely sincere in his sudden indignation against these
licentious characters.

Yes, the Schoolmarm had rebuffed him, as Susie had prophesied, but the
effect of it upon him was such as neither he nor she had reckoned. As they
rode along a swift, overpowering infatuation for Dora Marshall grew upon
him. He felt something like a flame rising within him, burning him,
bewildering him with its intensity. She seemed all at once to possess
every attribute of the angels, from mere prettiness her face took on a
radiant beauty which dazzled him, and when she spoke her lightest word
held him breathless. As the mountain towers above the foothills, so, of a
sudden, she towered above all other women. He had known sensations--all,
he had believed, that it was possible to