f bitter renunciation made
it easy for me to simulate anger.

"You promised not to--not to--" I began, choking. My voice was hoarse
and it broke, matters surely far removed from pretense.

I had seen Sally Langdon in varying degrees of emotion, but never as she
appeared now. She was pale and she trembled a little. If it was not
fright, then I could not tell what it was. But there were contrition and
earnestness about her, too.

"Russ, I know. I promised not to--to tease--to tempt you anymore," she
faltered. "I've broken it. I'm ashamed. I haven't played the game
square. But I couldn't--I can't help myself. I've got sense enough not
to engage myself to you, but I can't keep from loving you. I can't let
you alone. There--if you want it on the square! What's more, I'll go on
as I have done unless you keep away from me. I don't care what I
deserve--what you do--I will--I will!"

She had begun falteringly and she ended passionately.

Somehow I kept my head, even though my heart pounded like a hammer and
the blood drummed in my ears. It was the thought of Steele that saved
me. But I felt cold at the narrow margin. I had reached a point, I
feared, where a kiss, one touch from this bewildering creature of fire
and change and sweetness would make me put her before Steele and my
duty.

"Sally, if you dare break your promise again, you'll wish you never had
been born," I said with all the fierceness at my command.

"I wish that now. And you can't bluff me, Mr. Gambler. I may have no
hand to play, but you can't make me lay it down," she replied.

Something told me Sally Langdon was finding herself; that presently I
could not frighten her, and then--then I would be doomed.

"Why, if I got drunk, I might do anything," I said cool and hard now.
"Cut off your beautiful chestnut hair for bracelets for my arms."

Sally laughed, but she was still white. She was indeed finding herself.
"If you ever get drunk again you can't kiss me any more. And if you
don't--you can."

I felt myself shake and, with all of the iron will I could assert, I hid
from her the sweetness of this thing that was my weakness and her
strength.

"I might lasso you from my horse, drag you through the cactus," I added
with the implacability of an Apache.

"Russ!" she cried. Something in this last ridiculous threat had found a
vital mark. "After all, maybe those awful stories Joe Harper told about
you were true."

"They sure were," I declared with great