with her lovers. They get drunk
sometimes when Bland's away. She's got a terrible temper. She's vain.
She likes flattery. Oh, you could fool her easy enough if you'd lower
yourself to--to--"

"To make love to her?" interrupted Duane.

Jennie bravely turned shamed eyes to meet his.

"My girl, I'd do worse than that to get you away from here," he said,
bluntly.

"But--Duane," she faltered, and again she put out the appealing hand.
"Bland will kill you."

Duane made no reply to this. He was trying to still a rising strange
tumult in his breast. The old emotion--the rush of an instinct to kill!
He turned cold all over.

"Chess Alloway will kill you if Bland doesn't," went on Jennie, with her
tragic eyes on Duane's.

"Maybe he will," replied Duane. It was difficult for him to force a
smile. But he achieved one.

"Oh, better take me off at once," she said. "Save me without risking so
much--without making love to Mrs. Bland!"

"Surely, if I can. There! I see Euchre coming with a woman."

"That's her. Oh, she mustn't see me with you."

"Wait--a moment," whispered Duane, as Jennie slipped indoors. "We've
settled it. Don't forget. I'll find some way to get word to you, perhaps
through Euchre. Meanwhile keep up your courage. Remember I'll save you
somehow. We'll try strategy first. Whatever you see or hear me do, don't
think less of me--"

Jennie checked him with a gesture and a wonderful gray flash of eyes.

"I'll bless you with every drop of blood in my heart," she whispered,
passionately.

It was only as she turned away into the room that Duane saw she was lame
and that she wore Mexican sandals over bare feet.

He sat down upon a bench on the porch and directed his attention to the
approaching couple. The trees of the grove were thick enough for him to
make reasonably sure that Mrs. Bland had not seen him talking to Jennie.
When the outlaw's wife drew near Duane saw that she was a tall,
strong, full-bodied woman, rather good-looking with a fullblown, bold
attractiveness. Duane was more concerned with her expression than with
her good looks; and as she appeared unsuspicious he felt relieved. The
situation then took on a singular zest.

Euchre came up on the porch and awkwardly introduced Duane to Mrs.
Bland. She was young, probably not over twenty-five, and not quite so
prepossessing at close range. Her eyes were large, rather prominent, and
brown in color. Her mouth, too, was large, with the lips full, and