e sick. That's what's
wrong. Love-sick, by Moses!" exploded his friend.

Dick smiled blandly. "You've got another guess coming, Steve. She's
going to eat dirt because she misjudged me so. She's going to lie awake
nights and figure what play she can make to get even again. Getting hold
of those blamed letters is the luckiest shot I've made yet. I was in
bad--darned bad. Explanations didn't go. I was just a plain ornery
skunk. Then I put over this grand-stand play and change the whole
situation. She's the one that's in bad now. Didn't she tell me right off
the bat what kind of a hairpin I was? Didn't she drive me off the ranch
with that game leg of mine all to the bad? Good enough. Now she finds
out I'm a white man she's going to be plumb sore at herself."

"What good does that do you? You're making a fight for the Rio Chama
Valley, ain't you? Or are you just having a kid quarrel with a girl?"

"I wouldn't take the Rio Chama Valley as a gift if I had to steal it
from Miss Valdes and her people. Ain't I making enough money up at
Cripple Creek for my needs? No, Steve! I'm playing for bigger game than
that. Size up my hand beside Don Manuel's, and it looks pretty bum. But
I'm going to play it strong. Maybe at the draw I'll fill."

"Mebbe you won't."

"I can bet it like I had an ace full, can't I? Anybody can play poker
when he's got a mitt full of big ones. Show me the man that can make two
pair back an all-blue hand off the map."

"Go to it, you old sport. My money's on you," grinned the miner
admiringly. "I'll go order a wedding present."

Through the pleasant coolness of the evening Dick sauntered along the
streets to the Underwood home, nor was his contentment lessened because
he knew that at a safe distance the brown shadows still dogged his
steps. In a scabbard fitted neatly beneath his left arm rested a good
friend that more than once had saved its owner's life. To the fraction
of a second Gordon knew just how long it would take him to get this into
action in case of need.

Kate Underwood met him at the door and took her guest into the
living-room. Beside a student lamp a plump little old lady sat knitting.
Somehow even before her soft voice welcomed him the visitor knew that
her gentle presence diffused an atmosphere of home.

"Thee is welcome, Mr. Gordon. Kate has been telling us of thee."

The young man gave no evidence of surprise, but Kate explained as a
matter of course.

"We are Friends, and at hom