ope not!" he blurted--and then marched on with the red flooding
beneath his tan.

And though he strove to put all his belief in her word about herself, he
was conscious of a persistent doubt, and was angered by it.

"If you please, I'll do the talking to Mr. Brophy--is that his
name?--when we reach the hotel," said the girl. "You really do not know
me." There was a flash of honesty, she felt, in that statement, and she
wanted to be as honest as she could--not wholly a compound of lies in
her new role. "It might seem queer, my presenting myself under your
indorsement, as if we had been acquainted somewhere else. Gossip up here
is easily started, isn't it?"

"It is."

He surrendered her bag to her at the porch, as if his services had been
merely the cursory politeness of one who was traveling her way. It was
in Latisan's mind to go along to the big house on the ledges and inform
Flagg what had been done that day, and glory in the boast that there was
a new man in the region who could make a way for himself in spite of
Flagg's opinions as to the prowess of an old man.

Latisan was feeling strangely exhilarated. She had come there to stay!
Martin Brophy was in the desperate state of need to chain a girl like
that one to a table leg in his desire to keep her. And she had announced
her own feelings in the matter! She was in the Noda--the girl who had
stepped out of his life never to enter it again, so he had feared in
his lonely ponderings. He was in the mood of a real man at last! He was
resolved to take no more of Echford Flagg's contumely. He was heartsick
at the thought of starting north and leaving her in the tavern, to be
the object of attentions such as that cheap drummer man bestowed when he
passed them on the street.

The plea of the lady of the tavern parlor had made merely a ripple in
his resolves. He had not thought of her or her proposition during that
busy day.

Now he was wondering whether the fight for Flagg--the struggle against
Craig, even for vengeance, was worth while.

Lida was having no difficulty in locating the landlord. He stood just
beyond the dining-room door and was proclaiming that he was the boss and
was shaking his fist under the nose of a surly youth who had allowed
several dishes to slide off a tray and smash on the floor.

"Do you want to hire a waitress from the city?" she demanded.

"You bet a tin dipper I do," snapped back Brophy.

"I'm ready to begin work at once. If you'll s