be cornered like a trapped coyote was another matter. I
almost tore my clothes off in that passage. The dust nearly stifled me.

When I burst into the patio it was not one single instant too soon. But
one deep gash of breath revived me, and I was up, gun in hand, running
for the outlet into the court. Thumping footsteps turned me back. While
there was a chance to get away I did not want to meet odds in a fight. I
thought I heard some one running into the patio from the other end. I
stole along, and coming to a door, without any idea of where it might
lead, I softly pushed it open a little way and slipped in.

Chapter 9

IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO

A low cry greeted me. The room was light. I saw Sally Langdon sitting on
her bed in her dressing gown. Shaking my gun at her with a fierce
warning gesture to be silent, I turned to close the door. It was a heavy
door, without bolt or bar, and when I had shut it I felt safe only for
the moment. Then I gazed around the room. There was one window with
blind closely drawn. I listened and seemed to hear footsteps retreating,
dying away. Then I turned to Sally. She had slipped off the bed to her
knees and was holding out trembling hands as if both to supplicate mercy
and to ward me off. She was as white as the pillow on her bed. She was
terribly frightened. Again with warning hand commanding silence I
stepped softly forward, meaning to reassure her.

"Russ! Russ!" she whispered wildly, and I thought she was going to
faint. When I got close and looked into her eyes I understood the
strange dark expression in them. She was terrified because she believed
I meant to kill her, or do worse, probably worse. She had believed many
a hard story about me and had cared for me in spite of them. I
remembered, then, that she had broken her promise, she had tempted me,
led me to kiss her, made a fool out of me. I remembered, also how I had
threatened her. This intrusion of mine was the wild cowboy's vengeance.

I verily believed she thought I was drunk. I must have looked pretty
hard and fierce, bursting into her room with that big gun in hand. My
first action then was to lay the gun on her bureau.

"You poor kid!" I whispered, taking her hands and trying to raise her.
But she stayed on her knees and clung to me.

"Russ! It was vile of me," she whispered. "I know it. I deserve
anything--anything! But I am only a kid. Russ, I didn't break my
word--I didn't make you kiss me just for, vanit