I--we'll all thank him--all our lives," replied Dale. "Wilson,
you're a man!... If you'll shake that gang--"

"Dale, shore there ain't much of a gang left, onless you let Burt git
away," replied Wilson.

"I didn't kill him--or hurt him. But I scared him so I'll bet he's
runnin' yet.... Wilson, did all the shootin' mean a fight?"

"Tolerable."

"Oh, Dale, it was terrible! I saw it all. I--"

"Wal, Miss, you can tell him after I go.... I'm wishin' you good luck."

His voice was a cool, easy drawl, slightly tremulous.

The girl's face flashed white in the gloom. She pressed against the
outlaw--wrung his hands.

"Heaven help you, Jim Wilson! You ARE from Texas!... I'll remember
you--pray for you all my life!"

Wilson moved away, out toward the pale glow of light under the black
pines.

CHAPTER XXIV

As Helen Rayner watched Dale ride away on a quest perilous to him, and
which meant almost life or death for her, it was surpassing strange that
she could think of nothing except the thrilling, tumultuous moment when
she had put her arms round his neck.

It did not matter that Dale--splendid fellow that he was--had made
the ensuing moment free of shame by taking her action as he had taken
it--the fact that she had actually done it was enough. How utterly
impossible for her to anticipate her impulses or to understand them,
once they were acted upon! Confounding realization then was that when
Dale returned with her sister, Helen knew she would do the same thing
over again!

"If I do--I won't be two-faced about it," she soliloquized, and a hot
blush flamed her cheeks.

She watched Dale until he rode out of sight.

When he had gone, worry and dread replaced this other confusing emotion.
She turned to the business of meeting events. Before supper she packed
her valuables and books, papers, and clothes, together with Bo's, and
had them in readiness so if she was forced to vacate the premises she
would have her personal possessions.

The Mormon boys and several other of her trusted men slept in their
tarpaulin beds on the porch of the ranch-house that night, so that Helen
at least would not be surprised. But the day came, with its manifold
duties undisturbed by any event. And it passed slowly with the leaden
feet of listening, watching vigilance.

Carmichael did not come back, nor was there news of him to be had. The
last known of him had been late the afternoon of the preceding day, when
a sheep-herder had s