a little from him until the light from
the saloon fell directly across her face. "Well," she declared,
slowly, "you see it had to be either her or--or you, Bob, and I 'd
rather it would be you."

"You mean she said you would have to cut me out entirely if you stayed
there with her?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with entreaty. "Yes, that was about it. I
wasn't ever to have anything more to do with you, not even to speak to
you if we met--and after you 'd saved my life, too."

"Never mind about that little affair, Kid," and Hampton rested his hand
gently on her shoulder. "That was all in the day's work, and hardly
counts for much anyhow. Was that all she said?"

"She called you a low-down gambler, a gun-fighter, a--a miserable
bar-room thug, a--a murderer. She--she said that if I ever dared to
speak to you again, Bob Hampton; that I could leave her house. I just
could n't stand for that, so I came away."

Hampton never stirred, his teeth set deep into his cigar, his hands
clinched about the railing. "The fool!" he muttered half aloud, then
caught his breath quickly. "Now see here, Kid," and he turned her
about so that he might look down into her eyes, "I 'm mighty glad you
like me well enough to put up a kick, but if all this is true about me,
why should n't she say it? Do you believe that sort of a fellow would
prove a very good kind to look after a young lady?"

"I ain't a young lady!"

"No; well, you 're going to be if I have my way, and I don't believe
the sort of a gent described would be very apt to help you much in
getting there."

"You ain't all that."

"Well, perhaps not. Like an amateur artist, madam may have laid the
colors on a little thick. But I am no winged angel, Kid, nor exactly a
model for you to copy after. I reckon you better stick to the woman,
and cut me."

She did not answer, yet he read an unchanged purpose in her eyes, and
his own decision strengthened. Some instinct led him to do the right
thing; he drew forth the locket from beneath the folds of her dress,
holding it open to the light. He noticed now a name engraven on the
gold case, and bent lower to decipher it.

"Was her name Naida? It is an uncommon word."

"Yes."

"And yours also?"

"Yes."

Their eyes met, and those of both had perceptibly softened.

"Naida," his lips dwelt upon the peculiar name as though he loved the
sound. "I want you to listen to me, child. I sincerely wish I might
keep you here