ed to be the
one that got the best aim; and the time with the Indians, I'm sure he
did not shoot to kill. It just happened that way. He told me so
himself."

Ashton ran his tongue over his lip. "Yes--I suppose so," he muttered.

"Kid has all the good qualities and only a few of the faults of the
old-time cowboys," went on the girl. "He is almost fiercely loyal to
Daddy's interests. That's why he led a raid on a sheep outfit, four
years ago, when almost half of a large flock were run over into Deep
Canyon--poor innocent beasts! Daddy was furious with Kid; but there was
no legal proof as to who were members of the attacking party, and the
sheep were destroying our range. All of Daddy's cattle would have
starved."

"He was not punished?" murmured Ashton.

"Daddy could not be expected to discharge him, could he, when Kid did
it to save our range? You see, it was just because he was so very
loyal. You must not think from these things that he--It is true he is
suspicious of strangers, but he always has been very kind and gentle
to me. I am very fond of him."

"You are?" exclaimed Ashton, stirred from his uneasy depression. "I
should hardly have thought him the kind to interest a girl like you."

"Really?" she bantered. "Why not? I have lived on the range ever since
I was fourteen."

He stared at her incredulously. "Since you were fourteen?"

"For nine years," she added, smiling at his astonishment.

"But--it can't be," he protested, his eyes on her stylish costume. "At
least, not all the time."

She nodded at him encouragingly. "So you _can_ see--a little. Nearly
all my winters have been spent in Denver, except one in Europe."

"Europe?" he repeated.

"We didn't cross in a cattle boat," she flashed back at him, dimpling
mischievously. "Nor did I go as the Queen of the Rancho, or of the
Roundup, or even of the Wild and Woolly Outlaw Band."

He flushed with mortification. "I am only too well aware, Miss
Knowles, how you must regard me."

"Oh, I do not regard you at all--as yet," she bantered. "But of course
I could not expect you to know that Daddy's sister is one of the
Sacred Thirty-six."

"Sacred--? Is that one of the orders of nuns?"

"None whatever," she punned. In the same moment she drew a most
solemn looking face. "My deah Mistah Ashton, I will have you to
understand my reference was to that most select coterie which
comprises Denver's Real Society."

"Indeed!" he said, with a subtle alteration in