n orphan. And I'm not a poor one. I own a plantation in Louisiana.
I'll make a planter out of you. There!"

"Sally! You're rich?" I exclaimed.

"I'm afraid I am. But nobody can ever say you married me for my money."

"Well, no, not if you tell of my abject courtship when I thought you a
poor relation on a visit. My God! Sally, if I only could see this Ranger
job through safely and to success!"

"You will," she said softly.

Then I took a ring from my little finger and slipped it on hers. "That
was my sister's. She's dead now. No other girl ever wore it. Let it be
your engagement ring. Sally, I pray I may somehow get through this awful
Ranger deal to make you happy, to become worthy of you!"

"Russ, I fear only one thing," she whispered.

"And what's that?"

"There will be fighting. And you--oh, I saw into your eyes the other
night when you stood with your hands up. You would kill anybody, Russ.
It's awful! But don't think me a baby. I can conceive what your work is,
what a man you must be. I can love you and stick to you, too. But if you
killed a blood relative of mine I would have to give you up. I'm a
Southerner, Russ, and blood is thick. I scorn my uncle and I hate my
cousin George. And I love you. But don't you kill one of my family,
I--Oh, I beg of you go as far as you dare to avoid that!"

I could find no voice to answer her, and for a long moment we were
locked in an embrace, breast to breast and lips to lips, an embrace of
sweet pain.

Then she broke away, called a low, hurried good-by, and stole like a
shadow into the darkness.

An hour later I lay in the open starlight among the stones and brush,
out where Steele and I always met. He lay there with me, but while I
looked up at the stars he had his face covered with his hands. For I had
given him my proofs of the guilt of Diane Sampson's father.

Steele had made one comment: "I wish to God I'd sent for some fool who'd
have bungled the job!"

This was a compliment to me, but it showed what a sad pass Steele had
come to. My regret was that I had no sympathy to offer him. I failed him
there. I had trouble of my own. The feel of Sally's clinging arms around
my neck, the warm, sweet touch of her lips remained on mine. What Steele
was enduring I did not know, but I felt that it was agony.

Meanwhile time passed. The blue, velvety sky darkened as the stars grew
brighter. The wind grew stronger and colder. I heard sand blowing
against the stones like t