ot so sure of that," he answered.

"But I am; I know them, I've lived among them!"

"Well, let that go. The man tried to kill me, at any rate. However, he
was merely a tool, hired for the business by some one else. Ordinarily
I don't discuss my affairs with any one, but since you've raised the
matter I'll just say that I've enemies in San Mateo who are anxious
to dispose of me."

"Such enemies here!"

"Yes. Who would be delighted to see me lie where that dead man lies
and who are apparently determined to effect it." He touched her sleeve
warningly. "But you will speak of this to no one."

"No, oh, no! Not a word!"

Steele gazed at her steadily. He already repented disclosing even so
little of his private concerns, an impulse altogether at variance with
his close-mouthed habit, but he had, for some vague reason, felt it
necessary to explain his course, to justify himself to this
clear-eyed, fine-spirited girl. He could not let her rest under a
misapprehension that he was a brute who reveled in blood-spilling. And
as he regarded her a conviction that she was absolutely to be trusted
settled firmly into his mind.

She would be staunch; oxen and ropes could not drag information from
her once she had determined not to speak. Yes, she would be loyal to
her given word--and to her friends. Weir's eyes glanced at the diamond
on her finger. It would be a girl like her with whom he would have
chosen to mate if fate had not directed his feet on a road which
seemingly left him no choice but incessant and solitary struggle.

"I hate it all; I have nothing but crusts and nettles!" he exclaimed,
with sudden fierce passion. And with a quick movement of his hand he
beckoned her on.

Submissively she accompanied him, her bosom rising and falling with a
quickened rhythm. Too much had happened, one thing piling on another,
for her to sort her thoughts or to attempt to understand things yet;
and in her tossing state of mind she went at his gesture as one
follows a guide, or as a simple matter of course.

In her mental turmoil that last passionate utterance of the man played
like a lambent flame. Tense, violent, spontaneous, it had come from
the heart. What harsh lot he had lived and sufferings borne she could
not even guess; but no man spoke with such unconscious bitterness who
had not undergone pain and travail of spirit. His head was now turned
a little towards her as they walked: she perceived him staring at the
moonlit stree