with the implacability of an Apache.

"Russ!" she cried. Something in this last ridiculous threat had found a
vital mark. "After all, maybe those awful stories Joe Harper told about
you were true."

"They sure were," I declared with great relief. "And now to forget
ourselves. I'm more than sorry I distressed Miss Sampson; more than
sorry because what I said wasn't on the square. Blome, no doubt, has
come to Linrock after Steele. His intention is to kill him. I said
that--let Miss Sampson think it all meant fatality to the Ranger. But,
Sally, I don't believe that Blome can kill Steele any more than--than
you can."

"Why?" she asked; and she seemed eager, glad.

"Because he's not man enough. That's all, without details. You need not
worry; and I wish you'd go tell Miss Sampson--"

"Go yourself," interrupted Sally. "I think she's afraid of my eyes. But
she won't fear you'd guess her secret.

"Go to her, Russ. Find some excuse to tell her. Say you thought it over,
believed she'd be distressed about what might never happen. Go--and
afterward pray for your sins, you queer, good-natured, love-meddling
cowboy-devil, you!"

For once I had no retort ready for Sally. I hurried off as quickly as I
could walk in chaps and spurs.