r away from that other dance; of that long,
wonderful, silent ride through the starlight; how careful he had been
of her--how tender! But it was only the way he had with him, she later
reminded herself impatiently, and smiled over her shoulder at the
whirling couples who danced to the music she made; and thought of the
money that made her purse heavy as lead, the money that would wipe out
her debt to the Lorrigans,--to Lance, if it really were Lance who had
bought the piano.

A faint sound came to her through the open window, the rattle of a
wagon coming down the hill in the dark. More people were coming to the
dance, which meant more money to give to the Lorrigans. Mary Hope
smiled again and played faster; so fast that more than one young man
shook his head at her as he circled past, and puffed ostentatiously,
laughing at the pace she set. She had a wild vision of other dances
which she would give--Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New
Year's--and pay the Lorrigans for everything they had done; for the
books, for the schoolhouse, everything. She felt that then, and then
only, could she face Lance Lorrigan level-eyed, cool, calm, feeling
herself a match for him.

The rattle of the wagon sounded nearer, circled the yard, came in at
the gate. Mary Hope was giving the dancers the fastest two-step she
could play, and she laughed aloud. More people were coming to the
dance, and there might not be coffee and sandwiches enough at
midnight,--she had over three hundred dollars already.

The dancers whirled past, parted to right and left, stopped all at
once. Mary Hope, still playing, looked over her shoulder--into the
dark, impenetrable gaze of Tom Lorrigan, standing there in his working
clothes, with his big, black Stetson on his head and his six-shooter
in its holster on his hip. Behind him Mary Hope saw Al and Duke and
Belle, and behind them other Devil's Tooth men, cowboys whom she only
knew slightly from meeting them sometimes in the trail as she rode to
and from school. The cowboys seemed to be facing the other way,
holding back the crowd near the door.

Mary Hope looked again into Tom's face, looked at Belle. Her fingers
strayed uncertainly over the keys, making discords. She half rose,
then sat down again. The room, all at once, seemed very still.

"I'm sorry to disturb yuh," Tom said, touching his hat brim and
lifting his eyebrows at her, half smiling with his lips pulled to one
side, like Lance--oh, maddeningly