down the dark stair and out upon the platform, where the cavalrymen were
mounting guard. There was no word spoken by either until they reached
the _Nadia's_ forward vestibule, and then it was Lidgerwood who broke
the silence to say: "I have discovered something to-night, Eleanor: I'm
not quite all the different kinds of a coward I thought I was."

"Don't tell me!" she said, in keen self-reproach, and her voice thrilled
him like the subtle melody of a passion song. "Howard, dear, I--I'm
sitting in sackcloth and ashes. I saw it all--with my own eyes, and I
could neither run nor scream. Oh, it was splendid! I never dreamed that
any man could rise by the sheer power of his will to such a pinnacle of
courage. Does that make amends--just a little? And won't you come to
breakfast with us in the morning, and let me tell you afterward how
miserable I've been--how I fairly _nagged_ father into bringing this
party out here so that I might have an excuse to--to----"

He forgot the fierce strife so lately ended; forgot the double victory
he had won.

"But--but Van Lew," he stammered--"he told me that you--that he--" and
then he took her in his arms and kissed her, while a young man with a
bandaged head--a man who answered to the name of Jack Benson, and who
was hastening up to get permission to go home to Faith Dawson--turned
his back considerately and walked away.

"What were you going to say about Herbert?" she murmured, when he let
her have breath enough to speak with.

"I was merely going to remark that he can't have you now, not if he were
ten thousand times your accepted lover."

She escaped from his arms and ran lightly up the steps of the private
car. And from the safe vantage-ground of the half-opened door she turned
and mocked him.

"Silly boy," she said softly. "Can't you read print when it's large
enough to shout at all the world? Herbert and Carolyn have been
'announced' for more than three months, and they are to be married when
we get back to New York. That's all; good-night, and don't you dare to
forget your breakfast engagement!"

End of Project Gutenberg's The Taming of Red Butte Western, by Francis Lynde

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