the law. I arrest you for trespass and
assault," he shouted, shaking with fear.

"Arrest _me_?" echoed de Spain contemptuously. "You scoundrel, if you
don't climb those stairs I'll send you to the penitentiary the day I
get back to town. Up-stairs with your message!"

"It isn't necessary," said a low voice in the hall, and with the words
Nan appeared in the open doorway. Her face was white, but there was
no sign of haste or panic in it; de Spain choked back a breath; to him
she never had looked in her silence so awe-inspiring.

He addressed her, holding his left hand out with his plea. "Nan," he
said, controlling his voice, "these men were getting ready to marry
you to Gale Morgan. No matter how you feel toward me now, you know me
well enough to know that all I want is the truth: Was this with your
consent?"

She stepped into the line of fire between her cousin and de Spain as
she answered. "No. You know I shall never marry any man but you. This
vile bully," she turned a little to look at her angry cousin, "has
influenced Uncle Duke--who never before tried to persecute or betray
me--into joining him in this thing. They never could have dragged me
into it alive. And they've kept me locked for three days in a room
up-stairs, hoping to break me down."

"Stand back, Nan."

If de Spain's words of warning struck her with terror of a situation
she could not control, she did not reveal it. "No," she said
resolutely. "If anybody here is to be shot, I'll be first. Uncle Duke,
you have always protected me from Gale Morgan; now you join hands with
him. You drive me from this roof because I don't know how I can
protect myself under it."

Gale looked steadily at her. "You promised to marry me," he muttered
truculently. "I'll find a way to make you keep your word."

A loud knocking interrupted him, and, without waiting to be admitted,
Pardaloe, the cowboy, opened the front door and stalked boldly in from
the hall.

If the situation in the room surprised him he gave no evidence of it.
And as he walked in Nan disappeared. Pardaloe was drenched with rain,
and, taking off his hat as he crossed the room to the fire, he shook
it hard into the blazing wood.

"What do you want, Pardaloe?" snapped Duke.

Pardaloe shook his hat once more and turned a few steps so that he
stood between the uncurtained window and the light. "The creek's up,"
he said to Duke in his peculiarly slow, steady tone. "Some of Satt's
boys are trying to get