here and rest."

Bostwick, already irritated by delay, and impervious to any thought of a
possible service in the horseman's attitude, grew more impatient and far
more irritating.

"I haven't desired your advice," he answered sharply. "Be good enough to
keep it to yourself." He advanced to the station owner, held out a bill,
and added: "Here you are, my man, for your trouble."

"Heck!" said the lank little host. "I don't want your money."

Across the horseman's handsome visage passed a look that, to the girl,
boded anything but peace. Bostwick's manner was an almost intolerable
affront, in a land where affronts are resented. However, the stranger
answered quietly, despite the fact that Bostwick nettled him to an
extraordinary degree.

"I agree that the sooner _you_ vamoose, the prompter the improvement in
the landscape. But you're not going off to Goldite with these ladies in
the car."

Matters might still have culminated differently had Bostwick even asked a
civil "Why?" for Van was a generous and easy-going being.

Beth, in the road, felt her heart beat violently, with vague excitement
and alarm. Bostwick glared, in sudden apprehension as to what the
horseman had in mind.

"Is this a hold-up?" he demanded. "What do you mean?"