e ran. He savvied your game all right.
It's funny, Vaughn, how these rustlers and gunmen don't mind being
killed. But to cripple them, rope them, jail them--that's hell to them!
Well, I'm to go on, up at the ranch, falling further in love with that
sweet kid instead of coming out straight to face things with you?"

Steele had to laugh, yet he was more thoughtful of my insistence.

"Russ, you think you have patience, but you don't know what patience is.
I won't be hurried on this job. But I'll tell you what: I'll hang under
cover most of the time when you're not close to me. See? That can be
managed. I'll watch for you when you come in town. We'll go in the same
places. And in case I get busy you can stand by and trail along after
me. That satisfy you?"

"Fine!" I said, both delighted and relieved. "Well, I'll have to rustle
back now to tell Miss Sampson you're all right."

Steele had about finished pulling on a clean shirt, exercising care not
to disarrange the bandages; and he stopped short to turn squarely and
look at me with hungry eyes.

"Russ, did she--show sympathy?"

"She was all broken up about it. Thought you were going to die."

"Did she send you?"

"Sure. And she said hurry," I replied.

I was not a little gleeful over the apparent possibility of Steele being
in the same boat with me.

"Do you think she would have cared if--if I had been shot up bad?"

The great giant of a Ranger asked this like a boy, hesitatingly, with
color in his face.

"Care! Vaughn, you're as thickheaded as you say I'm locoed. Diane
Sampson has fallen in love with you! That's all. Love at first sight!
She doesn't realize it. But I know."

There he stood as if another bullet had struck him, this time straight
through the heart. Perhaps one had--and I repented a little of my
overconfident declaration.

Still, I would not go back on it. I believed it.

"Russ, for God's sake! What a terrible thing to say!" he ejaculated
hoarsely.

"No. It's not terrible to _say_ it--only the fact is terrible," I went
on. I may be wrong. But I swear I'm right. When you opened your coat,
showed that bloody breast--well, I'll never forget her eyes.

"She had been furious. She showed passion--hate. Then all in a second
something wonderful, beautiful broke through. Pity, fear, agonized
thought of your death! If that's not love, if--if she did not betray
love, then I never saw it. She thinks she hates you. But she loves you."

"Get out of h