and certainly I wanted to help harassed people, especially women and
children; but mainly with me it was the zest, the thrill, the hazard,
the matching of wits--in a word, the adventure of the game.

Next morning I rode with the young ladies. In the light of Sally's
persistently flagrant advances, to which I was apparently blind, I saw
that my hard-won victory over self was likely to be short-lived.

That possibility made me outwardly like ice. I was an attentive,
careful, reliable, and respectful attendant, seeing to the safety of my
charges; but the one-time gay and debonair cowboy was a thing of the
past.

Sally, womanlike, had been a little--a very little--repentant; she had
showed it, my indifference had piqued her; she had made advances and
then my coldness had roused her spirit. She was the kind of girl to
value most what she had lost, and to throw consequences to the winds in
winning it back.

When I divined this I saw my revenge. To be sure, when I thought of it
I had no reason to want revenge. She had been most gracious to me.

But there was the catty thing she had said about being kissed again by
her admirers. Then, in all seriousness, sentiment aside, I dared not
make up with her.

So the cold and indifferent part I played was imperative.

We halted out on the ridge and dismounted for the usual little rest.
Mine I took in the shade of a scrubby mesquite. The girls strolled away