ss, Miss Cantire," he said. "A man in my line
has to cultivate it."

She wished he hadn't said that, but, nevertheless, she returned a little
archly: "But you haven't any business with the stage company nor with
ME, although I admit I intend to get my Dunstable hereafter from your
firm at the wholesale prices."

Before he could reply, the detonation of two gunshots, softened by
distance, floated down from the ridge above them. "There!" said Miss
Cantire eagerly. "Do you hear that?"

His face was turned towards the distant ridge, but really that she might
not question his eyes. She continued with animation: "That's from the
coach--to guide us--don't you see?"

"Yes," he returned, with a quick laugh, "and it says hurry up--mighty
quick--we're tired waiting--so we'd better push on."

"Why don't you answer back with your revolver?" she asked.

"Haven't got one," he said.

"Haven't got one?" she repeated in genuine surprise. "I thought
you gentlemen who are traveling always carried one. Perhaps it's
inconsistent with your gospel of good-humor."

"That's just it, Miss Cantire," he said with a laugh. "You've hit it."

"Why," she said hesitatingly, "even I have a derringer--a very little
one, you know, which I carry in my reticule. Captain Richards gave it to
me." She opened her reticule and showed a pretty ivory-handled pistol.
The look of joyful surprise which came into his face changed quickly as
she cocked it and lifted it into the air. He seized her arm quickly.

"No, please don't, you might want it--I mean the report won't carry far
enough. It's a very useful little thing, for all that, but it's only
effective at close quarters." He kept the pistol in his hand as they
walked on. But Miss Cantire noticed this, also his evident satisfaction
when she had at first produced it, and his concern when she was about to
discharge it uselessly. She was a clever girl, and a frank one to those
she was inclined to trust. And she began to trust this stranger. A smile
stole along her oval cheek.

"I really believe you're afraid of something, Mr. Boyle," she said,
without looking up. "What is it? You haven't got that Indian scare too?"

Boyle had no false shame. "I think I have," he returned, with equal
frankness. "You see, I don't understand Indians as well as you--and
Foster."

"Well, you take my word and Foster's that there is not the least danger
from them. About here they are merely grown-up children, cruel and
destru