. But I--I meant what I said."

"You wronged Steele. I happen to know. I know his record along the Rio
Grande. It's scarcely my place, Miss Sampson, to tell you what you'll
find out for yourself, sooner or later."

"What shall I find out?" she demanded.

"I've said enough."

"No. You mean my father and cousin George are misinformed or wrong about
Steele? I've feared it this last hour. It was his look. That pierced me.
Oh, I'd hate to be unjust. You say I wronged him, Russ? Then you take
sides with him against my father?"

"Yes," I replied very low.

She was keenly hurt and seemed, despite an effort, to shrink from me.

"It's only natural you should fight for your father," I went on.
"Perhaps you don't understand. He has ruled here for long. He's
been--well, let's say, easy with the evil-doers. But times are changing.
He opposed the Ranger idea, which is also natural, I suppose. Still,
he's wrong about Steele, terribly wrong, and it means trouble."

"Oh, I don't know what to believe!"

"It might be well for you to think things out for yourself."

"Russ, I feel as though I couldn't. I can't make head or tail of life
out here. My father seems so strange. Though, of course, I've only seen
him twice a year since I was a little girl. He has two sides to him.
When I come upon that strange side, the one I never knew, he's like a
man I never saw.

"I want to be a good and loving daughter. I want to help him fight his
battles. But he doesn't--he doesn't _satisfy_ me. He's grown impatient
and wants me to go back to Louisiana. That gives me a feeling of
mystery. Oh, it's _all_ mystery!"

"True, you're right," I replied, my heart aching for her. "It's all
mystery--and trouble for you, too. Perhaps you'd do well to go home."

"Russ, you suggest I leave here--leave my father?" she asked.

"I advise it. You struck a--a rather troublesome time. Later you might
return if--"

"Never. I came to stay, and I'll stay," she declared, and there her
temper spoke.

"Miss Sampson," I began again, after taking a long, deep breath, "I
ought to tell you one thing more about Steele."

"Well, go on."

"Doesn't he strike you now as being the farthest removed from a ranting,
brutal Ranger?"

"I confess he was at least a gentleman."

"Rangers don't allow anything to interfere with the discharge of their
duty. He was courteous after you defamed him. He respected your wish. He
did not break up the dance.

"This may not strike you