a step toward him and
speaking rapidly and hoarsely, her voice quivering as though she had
been running; "leave it instantly!" She stamped a foot to emphasize
the order.

Calumet did not move. He watched her, a smile on his lips, his eyes
narrowed. When she stamped her foot the smile grew to a short, amused
laugh.

"Sorta riled, eh?" he jeered. "Well, go as far as you like--you're
sure amusin'. But I don't reckon that I'll be leavin' here in a hurry.
Didn't the old man tell you I could stay here a year? What's the use
of me goin' now, just when you're goin' to start to reform me? Why,"
he finished, surveying her with interest; "I reckon the old man would
be plumb tickled to see the way you're carryin' on--obeyin' his last
wishes." He rested his head on his arms and laughed heartily.

He heard her step across the floor, and raised his head again, to look
into the muzzle of the pistol he had laid on the desk. It was close to
him, steady in her hands, and behind it her eyes were blazing with
wrath and determination.

"Go!" she ordered sharply; "go now--this minute, or I will shoot you!"

He laughed recklessly into the muzzle of the weapon and then without
visible excitement turned in his chair, reached out a swift hand,
grasped the weapon by the barrel and depressed the menacing muzzle so
that it pointed straight downward. Holding it thus in spite of her
frantic efforts to wrench it free, he got to his feet and stood in
front of her.

"Why, Betty," he jeered; "you're sure some excited." Seizing her other
hand, he turned her around so that she faced him fairly, holding her
with a grip so tight that she could not move.

"It's your game, ain't it?" he said mockingly. "Well, I'm playin' it
with you. Somethin' seems to tell me that we're goin' to have a daisy
time makin' a go of it."

He suddenly released her hands and stepped back, leaving her in
possession of the pistol.

"Usin' it?" he questioned, drawling, nodding toward the weapon. Betty
looked down at it, shuddered, and then with an expression of dread and
horror reached out and laid it gingerly on the desk top.

The next instant Calumet stood alone, grinning widely at the door
through which Betty had vanished. Listening, he heard her retreating
steps, heard a distant door slam. He walked to the desk and looked at
the pistol, then turned and surveyed the room with a speculative eye.

"She didn't even offer me a place to sleep," he said mockin