capture him nor let him go.

For nearly a week the cruel game went on. Frequently he heard their voices
in the hills about him. Sometimes he would call out to them pitifully to
put him out of his misery. Only their horrible laughter answered. When he
had reached the limit of endurance he lay down and died.

And the man who had engineered that heartless revenge was riding beside
her. He had been ready to tell her the whole story, if she had asked for
it, and equally ready to justify it. Nothing could have shown her more
plainly the character of the villain into whose hands she had fallen.

They descended into the valley, winding in and out until they came
suddenly upon ranch houses and a corral in a cleared space.

A man came out of the shadows into the moonlight to meet them. Instantly
Melissy recognized his walk. It was Boone.

"Oh, it's you," MacQueen said coldly. "Any of the rest of the boys up?"

"No."

Not a dozen words had passed between them, but the girl sensed hostility.
She was not surprised. Dunc Boone was not the man to take second place in
any company of riff-raff, nor was MacQueen one likely to yield the
supremacy he had fought to gain.

The latter swung from the saddle and lifted Melissy from hers. As her feet
struck the ground her face for the first time came full into the
moonlight.

Boone stifled a startled oath.

"Melissy Lee!" Like a swiftly reined horse he swung around upon his chief.
"What devil's work is this?"

"My business, Dunc!" the other retorted in suave insult.

"By God, no! I make it mine. This young lady's a friend of mine--or used
to be. _Sabe_?"

"I _sabe_ you'd better not try to sit in at this game, my friend."

Boone swung abruptly upon Melissy. "How come you here, girl? Tell me!"

And in three sentences she explained.

"What's your play? Whyfor did you bring her?" the Arkansan demanded of
MacQueen.

The latter stood balanced on his heels with his feet wide apart. There was
a scornful grin on his face, but his eyes were fixed warily on the other
man.

"What was I to do with her, Mr. Buttinski? She found out who I was. Could
I send her home? If I did how was I to fix it so I could go to Mesa when
it's necessary till we get this ransom business arranged?"

"All right. But you understand she's a friend of mine. I'll not have her
hurt."

"Oh, go to the devil! I'm not in the habit of hurting young ladies."

MacQueen swung on his heel insolently and knocked on the