er an unromantic hero, but her pulsing
emotions morally condemned one no more than the other.

This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that strong
men engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a courtesy that
an outsider could not have guessed the antagonism that ran between them,
enduring as life.

Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. "Afraid I
must say 'Lights out.' It's past eleven. We'll have to be up and on
our way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don't need to
worry about waking. I'll have you called in good time. Buenos noches."

He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyes
rose to meet his.

"--Buenos noches, senor;--I'm sure I shall sleep well to-night," she
said.

It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie' life. Emotions and sensations,
surging through her, had trodden on each other's heels. Woman-like, she
welcomed the darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of her
mind. She had been swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no
worse name. She had felt herself nearer to him than to some honest men
she could name who had offered her their love.

Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This
discerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposed
the secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She had
confessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Here
she could plead an ulterior motive. To save his life any deception was
permissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? With that insistent demand of
the outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of joy. What could it mean
unless it meant what she would not admit that it could mean? Why, the
man was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen him a
half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a month ago.
One month ago--

A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in a
barefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped a
chamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. It
was the note in which the sheriff on the night of the train robbery had
written his prediction of how the matter would come out. She was to open
the envelope in a month, and the month was up to-night.

As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little flashing
smiles that she could never have guessed under what circumstances sh