Kells gave her a piercing glance. "Miss Randle, I had to take the
fight out of your friend," he said.

"You--you--Is he--dead?"

"I just crippled his gun arm. If I hadn't he would have hurt
somebody. He'll ride back to Hoadley and tell your folks about it.
So they'll know you're safe."

"Safe!" she whispered.

"That's what I said, Miss Randle. If you're going to ride out into
the border--if it's possible to be safe out there you'll be so with
me."

"But I want to go home. Oh, please let me go!"

"I couldn't think of it."

"Then--what will you--do with me?"

Again that gray glance pierced her. His eyes were clear, flawless,
like crystal, without coldness, warmth, expression. "I'll get a
barrel of gold out of you."

"How?" she asked, wonderingly.

"I'll hold you for ransom. Sooner or later those prospectors over
there are going to strike gold. Strike it rich! I know that. I've