come again."

He released her. Yet she lingered a moment. "Put on those things," she
said, with a sudden happy flash of eyes and teeth, "and lie close till
I come." And then she sped away home.

But midway up the distance she felt her feet going slower, and
something at her heartstrings seemed to be pulling her back. She
stopped, turned, and glanced to where he had been standing. Had she
seen him then, she might have returned. But he had disappeared. She
gave her first sigh, and then ran quickly again. It must be nearly ten
o'clock! It was not very long to morning!

She was within a few steps of her own door, when the sleeping woods
and silent air appeared to suddenly awake with a sharp "crack!"

She stopped, paralyzed. Another "crack!" followed, that echoed over to
the far corral. She recalled herself instantly and dashed off wildly
to the woods again.

As she ran she thought of one thing only. He had been "dogged" by one
of his old pursuers and attacked. But there were two shots, and he was
unarmed. Suddenly she remembered that she had left her father's gun
standing against the tree where they were talking. Thank God! she may
again have saved him. She ran to the tree; the gun was gone. She ran
hither and thither, dreading at every step to fall upon his lifeless
body. A new thought struck her; she ran to the corral. The horse was
not there! He must have been able to regain it, and escaped, _after_
the shots had been fired. She drew a long breath of relief, but it was
caught up in an apprehension of alarm. Her father, awakened from his
sleep by the shots, was hurriedly approaching her.

"What's up now, Salomy Jane?" he demanded excitedly.

"Nothin'," said the girl with an effort. "Nothin', at least, that _I_
can find." She was usually truthful because fearless, and a lie stuck
in her throat; but she was no longer fearless, thinking of _him_. "I
wasn't abed; so I ran out as soon as I heard the shots fired," she
answered in return to his curious gaze.

"And you've hid my gun somewhere where it can't be found," he said
reproachfully. "Ef it was that sneak Larrabee, and he fired them shots
to lure me out, he might have potted me, without a show, a dozen times
in the last five minutes."

She had not thought since of her father's enemy! It might indeed
have been he who had attacked Jack. But she made a quick point of the
suggestion. "Run in, dad, run in and find the gun; you've got no show
out here without it." She