Fraser, greatly disturbed, patted gently the heavy coil of blue-black
hair.

"Now, don't you, Arlie; don't you. I ain't worth it. Honest, I ain't.
I did what it was up to me to do. Not a thing more. Dick would have
done it. Any of the boys would. Now, let's look at what you've done
for me."

From under the arm a muffled voice insisted she had done nothing but
suspect him.

"Hold on, girl. Play fair. First off you ride sixty miles to help me
when I'm hunted right hard. You bring me to your home in this valley
where strangers ain't over and above welcome just now. You learn I'm
an officer and still you look out for me and fight for me, till you
make friends for me. It's through you I get started right with the
boys. On your say-so they give me the glad hand. You learn I've lied
to you, and two or three hours later you save my life. You sit there
steady, with my haid in your lap, while some one is plugging away at
us. You get me to a house, take care of my wounds, and hold the fort
alone in the night till help comes. Not only that, but you drive my
enemy away. Later, you bring me home, and nurse me like I was a
long-lost brother. What I did for you ain't in the same class with
what you've done for me."

"But I was suspicious of you all the time."

"So you had a right to be. That ain't the point, which is that a girl
did all that for a man she thought might be an enemy and a low-down