"What do you mean, Betty?" asked Stalker, with an anxious and puzzled
look.

"I mean that I am _not_ Betty Bevan. Paul Bevan has told me so--told me
that I am Betty Buxley, and your sister!"

The dying man's chest heaved with labouring breath, for his wasted
strength was scarcely sufficient to bear this shock of surprise.

"I would not believe it," he said, with some difficulty, "even though
Paul Bevan were to swear to it, were it not for the wonderful likeness
both in look and tone." He pressed her hand fervently, and added, "Yes,
dear Betty. I _do_ believe that you are my very sister."

Tom Brixton, from an instinctive feeling of delicacy, left the tent,
while the Rose of Oregon related to her brother the story of her life
with Paul Bevan, and then followed it up with the story of God's love to
man in Jesus Christ.

Tom hurried to Bevan's tent to have the unexpected and surprising news
confirmed, and Paul told him a good deal, but was very careful to make
no allusion to Betty's "fortin."

"Now, Mister Brixton," said Paul, somewhat sternly, when he had
finished, "there must be no more shilly-shallyin' wi' Betty's feelin's.
You're fond o' _her_, an' she's fond o' _you_. In them circumstances a
man is bound to wed--all the more that the poor thing has lost her
nat'ral protector, so to speak, for I'm afraid she'll no longer look
upon me as a father."

There was a touch of pathos in Paul's tone as he concluded, which
checked the rising indignation in Brixton's breast.

"But you forget, Paul, that Gashford and his men are here, and will
probably endeavour to lay hold of me. I can scarce look on myself as
other than an outlaw."

"Pooh! lay hold of you!" exclaimed Paul, with contempt; "d'ye think
Gashford or any one else will dare to touch you with Mahoghany Drake an'
Mister Fred an' Flinders an' me, and Unaco with all his Injins at your
back? Besides, let me tell you that Gashford seems a changed man. I've
had a talk wi' him about you, an' he said he was done persecutin' of
you--that you had made restitootion when you left all the goold on the
river's bank for him to pick up, and that as nobody else in partikler
wanted to hang you, you'd nothin' to fear."

"Well, that does change the aspect of affairs," said Tom, "and it may be
that you are right in your advice about Betty. I have twice tried to
get away from her and have failed. Perhaps it may be right now to do as
you suggest, though after all the time