ling
the lower part of his face, he looked piercingly at Pine Coulee--at
Robert Burroughs. The trader caught Me-Casto's eye, and, ostentatiously
clasping Pine Coulee's hand as he swung her in the dance, he smiled full
in the Blackfoot's face, purposely flaunting his ownership of the squaw.
Me-Casto turned and left the room.

"'On wid the dance, let j'y be unconfined!'" yelled O'Dwyer, as he
combined an Irish jig and a Red River reel. He had not noticed Me-Casto,
but Latimer and Danvers exchanged glances. Just then Pine Coulee looked
wistfully toward the opening door. Burroughs, ever watchful, caught a
glimpse of Me-Casto as his lips gave an almost imperceptible signal to
Pine Coulee. The trader's anger was quick; his discretion slight. He
struck the girl flat on the cheek.

"Take that!" he said savagely. "I'll teach yeh to hanker after that
lousy buck!"

The words and the blow were simultaneous. So was the leap of the
indignant Danvers.

"You coward!" he cried, "to strike a woman!" He took the trader by the
nape of the neck and shook him soundly.

Before Burroughs could close with the trooper there came three rifle
shots. Each time a singing bullet whizzed by a dodging form. Only one of
the shots took effect. Pine Coulee sank to the floor, blood flowing from
her bosom.

Screams, oaths and shouts mingled as Danvers raised the squaw. Latimer
assisted him in placing her on a counter, while Burroughs, certain of
the would-be murderer, ran outside for the assailant, the crowd
following. A head pushed past the half-opened side door.

"Didn't I kill Burroughs?" The question was in Blackfoot.

"You shot Pine Coulee!" replied Danvers, sternly. In an instant renewed
shouting indicated that the men had tracked the Indian. A moment later
the sound of fleeing hoofs told that Me-Casto had made a get-away. The
trot of other horses followed, but soon the eternal silence of the
prairie reigned alone.

By the time Burroughs returned to the store Pine Coulee had revived.

As the trader was dragging the squaw to his near-by house, he paused on
the threshold.

"Phil Danvers," he said, moistening his dry lips as his rage increased,
"as true as they's a God above I'll pay yeh back for interferin'
to-night. I've hated yeh from the first time I set eyes on yeh! 'F I
live I'll make yeh feel what hate'll do! Yeh're too good fer the Whoop
Up Country, an' I've got a long score to settle with yeh! 'F ever white
women come to this coun