of us
will stay in this country a long time."

"Cheap bluff," Cross sneered. "You ain't goin' to prospect round these
ditches, linin' them up for powder. Come here alone, and I'll make you
eat the sights off of my gun."

Casey laughed softly--with him most dangerous of signs.

"Mr. Cross, you really amuse me. I won't argue the point just now.
Later, perhaps. Good evening."

Clyde had listened in amazement. Once more she had experienced the
sensation of standing on the brink of tragedy. Once more it had failed
to occur.

"And that's one of the gunmen," said Casey. "That's what we have been
putting up with. I think it will have to stop."

"Don't get into any trouble," she begged. "Promise me you won't. What
do you care what men like that say?"

"I'm partly human," he replied grimly. "I can stand as much as most
men, but there are some things I won't stand. I'm not going to climb a
tree for any man. However, I won't crowd things with Cross, though I
know plenty of men that would, on that provocation. I'm all for peace
and a quiet life. You won't think I'm afraid, I hope."

"Certainly not," she said indignantly. "You don't give me much of your
confidence, but I know you better than to think such a thing. I wish
you would tell me more of what is going on. Let me be your friend, and
not merely your guest. Talk to me as you would to--Miss McCrae."

It was the first time she had spoken to him of Sheila. It was her
challenge. She would be on the same footing.

"Sheila's different," he replied. "Sheila's one of us. I've known her
for years. She's a good deal like a sister."

"Oh," she said, "a _sister_?"

To have saved her immortal soul she could not have kept the note of
sceptical interrogation from the word. He laughed.

"Yes, a sister. Why, great Scott! you didn't think I was in love with
her, did you, just because I call her by her first name? I think
everything of her, but not in that way. She's a thousand times too good
for me. Besides, she knows me too well. That's usually fatal to
sentiment. That's why no man is a hero to his wife."

"How do you know he isn't? Kitty Wade simply worships her husband."

"Maybe. But I'll bet his pedestal isn't nearly so high as it was before
they were married. When you marry, Miss Burnaby"--he smiled at her
frankly--"you will occupy the pedestal yourself."

"Doesn't your rule work both ways?" she laughed.

"I won't admit it--to you, anyway."

"Why not--to me?"

"Beca