ckskin, having
long since known her master, came to hand quivering, the bloody spume
dripping from the bit upon the slippery floor.

Delaney had arrayed himself with painful elaboration, determined to
look the part, bent upon creating the impression, resolved that his
appearance at least should justify his reputation of being "bad."
Nothing was lacking--neither the campaign hat with upturned brim, nor
the dotted blue handkerchief knotted behind the neck, nor the heavy
gauntlets stitched with red, nor--this above all--the bear-skin
"chaparejos," the hair trousers of the mountain cowboy, the pistol
holster low on the thigh. But for the moment this holster was empty,
and in his right hand, the hammer at full cock, the chamber loaded,
the puncher flourished his teaser, an army Colt's, the lamplight dully
reflected in the dark blue steel.

In a second of time the dance was a bedlam. The musicians stopped with a
discord, and the middle of the crowded floor bared itself instantly. It
was like sand blown from off a rock; the throng of guests, carried by an
impulse that was not to be resisted, bore back against the sides of
the barn, overturning chairs, tripping upon each other, falling down,
scrambling to their feet again, stepping over one another, getting
behind each other, diving under chairs, flattening themselves against
the wall--a wild, clamouring pell-mell, blind, deaf, panic-stricken;
a confused tangle of waving arms, torn muslin, crushed flowers, pale
faces, tangled legs, that swept in all directions back from the centre
of the floor, leaving Annixter and Hilma, alone, deserted, their arms
about each other, face to face with Delaney, mad with alcohol, bursting
with remembered insult, bent on evil, reckless of results.

After the first scramble for safety, the crowd fell quiet for the
fraction of an instant, glued to the walls, afraid to stir, struck dumb
and motionless with surprise and terror, and in the instant's silence
that followed Annixter, his eyes on Delaney, muttered rapidly to Hilma:

"Get back, get away to one side. The fool MIGHT shoot."

There was a second's respite afforded while Delaney occupied himself
in quieting the buckskin, and in that second of time, at this moment of
crisis, the wonderful thing occurred. Hilma, turning from Delaney, her
hands clasped on Annixter's arm, her eyes meeting his, exclaimed:

"You, too!"

And that was all; but to Annixter it was a revelation. Never more alive
to