th harmful intent."

"Why?"

"Well, I know he's afraid to see you."

"Why?"

"Because it only makes his duty harder."

"Ah!" she breathed.

It seemed to me that my intelligence confirmed a hope of hers and gave
her relief. I felt something terrible in the balance for Steele. And I
was glad to be able to throw them together. The catastrophe must fall,
and now the sooner it fell the better. But I experienced a tightening of
my lips and a tugging at my heart-strings.

"Sally, what do you and Diane know about the goings-on in town
yesterday?" I asked.

"Not much. George was like an insane man. I was afraid to go near him.
Uncle wore a sardonic smile. I heard him curse George--oh, terribly! I
believe he hates George. Same as day before yesterday, there were men
riding in and out. But Diane and I heard only a little, and conflicting
statements at that. We knew there was fighting. Dick and the servants,
the cowboys, all brought rumors. Steele was killed at least ten times
and came to life just as many.

"I can't recall, don't want to recall, all we heard. But this morning
when I saw the red scarf flying in the wind--well, Russ, I was so glad I
could not see through the glass any more. We knew then Steele was all
right or you wouldn't have put up the signal."

"Reckon few people in Linrock realize just what _did_ come off," I
replied with a grim chuckle.

"Russ, I want you to tell me," said Miss Sampson earnestly.

"What?" I queried sharply.

"About yesterday--what Steele did--what happened."

"Miss Sampson, I could tell you in a few short statements of fact or I
could take two hours in the telling. Which do you prefer?"

"I prefer the long telling. I want to know all about him."

"But why, Miss Sampson? Consider. This is hardly a story for a
sensitive woman's ears."

"I am no coward," she replied, turning eyes to me that flashed like dark
fire.

"But why?" I persisted. I wanted a good reason for calling up all the
details of the most strenuous and terrible day in my border experience.
She was silent a moment. I saw her gaze turn to the spot where Steele
lay asleep, and it was a pity he could not see her eyes then. "Frankly,
I don't want to tell you," I added, and I surely would have been glad to
get out of the job.

"I want to hear--because I glory in his work," she replied deliberately.

I gathered as much from the expression of her face as from the deep ring
of her voice, the clear content of her s