p his hands or reach for his gun. He does
nothing but smile right along the level of the sight into your eyes. It
was disturbing to Pete's sense of etiquette on such occasions. It threw
him off. There are similar instances in history. A soldier once put a
musket at Bonaparte's head. Some of Caesar's legionaries once pressed
their swords at his breast. Such old hands in human psychology had the
presence of mind to smile. And the history of the West is full of
examples which have not been recorded. Go on, Mary!"

"Ignacio says he has a devil in him," she added.

"That little Indian has a lot of primitive race wisdom. Probably he is
right," her father said soberly.

"It explains what followed," she proceeded.

She was emphatic about the reason for her part. She went out to the
_arroyo_ on behalf of her responsibility for a human life.

"But why did you not rouse me? Why did you go alone?" he asked.

"I didn't think--there wasn't time--I was upset and hurried."

She proceeded in a forced monotone which seemed to allow her hardly a
single full breath.

"And I am going to kill you!" she repeated, shuddering, at the close of
the narrative.

"When he said that did his face change completely? Did it seem like the
face of another man? Yes, did it seem as if there were one face that
could charm and another that could kill?" Jasper's words came slowly and
with a drawn exactness. They formed the inquiry of one who expected
corroboration of an impression.

"Yes."

"You felt it--you felt it very definitely, Mary?"

"Yes."

She was living over the moment of Jack's transformation from silk to
steel. The scene in the _arroyo_ became burning clear. Under the strain
of the suppression of her own excitement, concentrated in her purpose to
make all the realism of the duel an absurdity, she did not watch keenly
for the signs of expression by which she usually knew what was passing
in her father's mind. But she was not too preoccupied to see that he was
relieved over her assent that there was a devil in Jack Wingfield, which
struck her as a puzzle in keeping with all that morning's experience.
It added to the inward demoralization which had suddenly dammed her
power of speech.

"Ignacio saw it, too, so I was interested," Jasper added quickly,
in a more natural tone, settling back into his chair. His agitation
had passed.

So that was it. Her father's dominant, fine old egoism was rejoicing in
another proof of his excellence