f the card players, "but if I was in your
place I'd begin to think that me stayin' here was crowdin' the population
of this town by one."

Blanca's teeth gleamed. "My frien'," he said insinuatingly, "it's your
deal." His smile grew. "Thees is a nize country," he continued. "I like it
ver' much. I come back here to stay. Dakota--hees got the Star too cheap."
He tapped his gun holster significantly. "To-night Dakota hees go
somewhere else. To-morrow who takes the Star? You?" He pointed to each of
the card players in turn. "You?" he questioned. "You take it?" He smiled
at their negative signs. "Well, then, Blanca take it. Peste! Dakota give
himself till sundown!"

* * * * *

The six-o'clock was an hour and thirty minutes late. For two hours Sheila
Langford had been on the station platform awaiting its coming. For a full
half hour she had stood at one corner of the platform straining her eyes
to watch a thin skein of smoke that trailed off down the horizon, but
which told her that the train was coming. It crawled slowly--like a huge
serpent--over the wilderness of space, growing always larger, steaming its
way through the golden sunshine of the afternoon, and after a time, with a
grinding of brakes and the shrill hiss of escaping air, it drew alongside
the station platform.

A brakeman descended, the conductor strode stiffly to the telegrapher's
window, two trunks came out of the baggage car, and a tall man of fifty
alighted and was folded into Sheila's welcoming arms. For a moment the two
stood thus, while the passengers smiled sympathetically. Then the man held
Sheila off at arm's length and looked searchingly at her.

"Crying?" he said. "What a welcome!"

"Oh, daddy!" said Sheila. In this moment she was very near to telling him
what had happened to her on the day of her arrival at Lazette, but she
felt that it was impossible with him looking at her; she could not at a
blow cast a shadow over the joy of his first day in the country where,
henceforth, he was to make his home. And so she stood sobbing softly on
his shoulder while he, aware of his inability to cope with anything so
mysterious as a woman's tears, caressed her gently and waited patiently
for her to regain her composure.

"Then nothing happened to you after all," he laughed, patting her cheeks.
"Nothing, in spite of my croaking."

"Nothing," she answered. The opportunity was gone now; she was committed
irrevoc