tella in the
waltz Bud winked at them.

Later, however, he met the irate escort of the girl, when he took her
back to her seat, and they glared at one another for a moment; then the
escort walked off, leaving Bud master of the situation.

After this came the "sour-dough" quadrille, in which only old-timers
were permitted to dance, and Bud led it with Mrs. "Cow" Suggs to the
tune of "Turkey in the Straw."

But finally, as the ball was drawing to a close, Ted heard Stella utter
a slight scream, and saw her trying to draw her hand away from a young
fellow, whose back was turned to him.

He was across the room in an instant, and had the fellow by the
shoulders and swung him around. It was Wiley Creviss, who had been
drinking.

"What has this cur been doing?" asked Ted.

"He insisted on dancing with me, and when I told him I would not, he
said he'd make me," answered Stella. "Then he caught hold of me, and I
suppose I cried out, although I didn't mean to. That is what comes of
wearing these clothes. If I'd had on my others, I'd have had my gun with
me."

Ted had heard enough. There was a window close by, which was about ten
feet above the sidewalk. Ted rushed the struggling and cursing Creviss
toward it, and by sheer strength lifted him to the sill and threw him
out.

"I guess we've had about enough of this," he said quietly, when he
returned to Stella. "No more mixed balls for mine."

As Ted was escorting Stella to the carriage, Billy Sudden ranged up
alongside of him.

"Look out for Creviss and his bunch on the way home. They're telling
around what they're going to do with you. Want any help?"

"No, I reckon not, Billy. Our bunch can take care of them."

"They are going to try to kill you to-night."

CHAPTER V.

SHOTS FROM THE DARK.

As the broncho boys swung through the streets of Soldier Butte, after
leaving the ball, Ted Strong was in the lead, and Bud, Ben, Kit, and
Clay were riding on either side of the carriage, while Jack Slate, with
his black coat tails flapping in the breeze, brought up the rear.

They were passing an alley, at the corner of which an electric lamp shed
a path of light across the street, when a revolver shot cracked out, and
Ted's hat left his head.

The ball had just grazed his scalp, and the merest fraction of an inch
lower would have killed him.

Instantly every one pulled up, and Ted, wheeling suddenly, rode at full
speed for the mouth of the alley.

As he did