ks as though he could take care of himself," the girl said
thoughtfully when the money had gone.

Templeton whirled about upon her, his eyes blazing.

"Take care of himself!" he scoffed. "What chance has a man to take care
of himself when another man puts a rifle ball through his back? What
chance had Bill Varney of the Twin Dry Diggings stage only three weeks
ago? Varney is dead and the money he was carrying is gone, that's the
chance he had! What chance has any man had for the last six months if he
carried five hundred dollars on him and any one knew about it? They
chased off a dozen steers from Kemble's place not three days ago, you
yourself know what happened at Drury's road house last night, and now
Buck Thornton rides through the same country with five thousand dollars
on him!"

"He did it," she repeated again very softly, her eyes musing.

"And one of these days he's going to find out how simple a matter it is
for a gang like the gang operating in broad daylight in this country now
to separate a fool and his money! The Lord knows how a simple trick like
coming in three days ahead of time fooled them. It won't do it again."

"He is the type of man to succeed," she went on, still musingly.

Templeton shrugged.

"We have our own business on our hands," he said abruptly, looking at
his watch. "The stage leaves in half an hour. Are you going to be
reasonable?"

Then she stood up and smiled at him very brightly.

"The stage is going its way, Mr. Templeton. I am going mine."

Templeton flung down his pen with an access of irritation which brought
a flicker of amusement into the bright grey eyes. But the banker's grim
mouth did not relax; there was anger in the gesture with which he
slammed a blotter down on the big yellow envelope on which his wet pen
had fallen. After his carefully precise fashion he was reaching for a
fresh, clean envelope when the girl took the slightly soiled one from
him.

"Thank you," she said, rising and smiling down at him. "But this will do
just as well. And now, if you'll wish me good luck..."

She went out followed by a look of much grave speculation.

Meanwhile Buck Thornton, leading his horse after him, crossed the dusty
street to the Last Chance saloon. At the watering trough he watered his
horse, and then, slackening the cinch a little, he went inside. In the
front part of the long, dreary room was the bar presided over by a
gentleman in overalls, shirt sleeves and very bla