ed. She had meant to prick and lash him for a while yet, but
now in pity she forbore.

He entered. The Deacon was sitting at a little desk. Beside him was a
small safe; it was open, but nearly empty now.

"Well," said Jim gruffly, almost savagely, "what's to do?"

"Nothing," said the Deacon calmly. "You've lost. The Indians have been
here and got most of their plunder. Your five hundred is now the
property of a person named 'Two Strikes' who will, doubtless, call
presently and secure the indemnity, less my reasonable 5 per cent.
commission."

Jim turned in silence. As he joined Belle, she said, "Here, Jim, help me
down; I want a word with the Deacon."

Jim stammered, "I--well--ah----"

She paid no attention, but said, "Now lead the horses over there." When
he was safely away, she entered. The Deacon's eyes twinkled. "Good
afternoon, Two Strikes, you people have made a great killing."

"Yes," she said calmly; "I've come for my share."

He opened the safe, took out the last of the packets tied up in a
particular shape, and said in businesslike tone, "Two hundred and fifty
dollars premium, five hundred dollars insurance, 5 per cent, on
indemnity collected is twenty-five dollars; shall I hold it out?"

"No," she said; "I'll keep that bunch untouched. Here it is." She handed
him his twenty-five dollars, put the seven hundred and fifty dollars in
her side bag, and went forth. Jim stared at her in a frightened way as
she came.

"Belle," he said huskily, "what did he say?"

"Oh, nothing special. Judging from his looks, I don't think he's lost
any money."

"Did--did he tell you anything?"

"About what?"

"About me?"

"No. Why? Why do you look so terribly upset, Jim?" and mounting, she
rode off beside him.

"Oh, Belle, I can't lie to you. I'll tell you all about it. Belle, I put
up all I had, the money I got for Blazing Star. All we were to furnish
with. I wanted to hand you the money _you_ wanted. Calling it insurance
blinded me; the temptation was too much. I should have known better. Oh,
Belle, will you ever forgive me? I'm nothing but a gambler," and,
crushed with shame, he repeated, "I'm nothing but a criminal racetrack
gambler."

An overwhelming compassion swamped her. She leaned toward him and said
softly, "So am I, Jim, I'm just as bad as you are."

"What--what do you mean?"

"Jim, do you know the name of the Indian that got your stake?"

"Yes. He said it was 'Two Strikes.'"

"Jim, dear, I am