pretty tough to swaller that. But somehow I kind of--of hated to shoot
him." Inwardly he was puzzled. What did the girl mean? He realized
that she was in earnest and that he had suddenly become a hero in her
eyes. Fate was playing strangely into his hands. A glitter of triumph
flashed into his eyes, a glitter that faded into a look of wistfulness
as they raised once more to hers.

"Would you go to the dance with me tonight, mom? These others--they
don't git me right. They'll think I didn't dast to shoot it out with
him."

The girl hesitated, and the cowpuncher continued. "The transfer
train's pulled out an' the trussle won't be fixed 'til mornin', you
might's well take in the dance."

Beside her Endicott moved uneasily. "Certainly not!" he exclaimed
curtly as his eyes met Purdy's. And then, to the girl, "If you are
bound to attend that performance you can go with me."

"Oh, I can go with you, can I?" asked the girl sweetly. "Well thank
you so much, Winthrop, but really you will have to excuse me. Mr.
Purdy asked me first." There was a sudden flash of daring in her eyes
as she turned to the cowpuncher. "I shall be very glad to go," she
said; "will you call for me at the car?"

"I sure will," he answered, and turned his eyes toward the flats. This
was to be _his_ night, his last on the Wolf River range, he realized
savagely. In the morning he must ride very far away. For before the
eyes of all Wolf River he had swallowed an insult. And the man knew
that Wolf River knew why he did not shoot.