understood that this was so. For some moments she sat stroking
Bessie's shoulder with her rawhide riding-switch. The mare grew
restive. She, too, seemed to understand something of the awkwardness,
and did her best to break it up by one or two of her frivolous
gambols. When she had been pacified, the girl leaned forward in her
saddle and looked straight into her companion's eyes.

"Tell me," she said, abruptly; "why did you ride that animal?"

The man laughed a little harshly. "Because--well, because I hadn't
sense enough to refuse, I suppose."

"Ah, I understand. Jake Harnach."

Tresler shrugged.

"I came out purposely to speak to you," the girl went on, in a quiet,
direct manner. There was not the least embarrassment now. She had made
up her mind to avoid all chance of misunderstanding. "I want to put
matters quite plainly before you. This morning's business was only a
sequel to your meeting with Jake, or rather a beginning of the
sequel."

Tresler shook his head and smiled. "Not the beginning of the sequel.
That occurred last evening, after I left you."

Diane looked a swift inquiry.

"Yes, Jake is not an easy man. But believe me, Miss Marbolt, you need
have no fear. I see what it is; you, in the kindness of your heart,
dread that I, a stranger here in your land, in your home, may be
maltreated, or even worse by that unconscionable ruffian. Knowing your
father's affliction, you fear that I have no protection from Jake's
murderous savagery, and you are endeavoring bravely to thrust your
frail self between us, and so stave off a catastrophe. Have no fear. I
do not anticipate a collision. He is only an atrocious bully."

"He is more than that. You underestimate him."

The girl's face had darkened. Her lips were firmly compressed, and an
angry fire burned in her usually soft eyes.

Tresler, watching, read the hatred for Jake; read the hatred, and saw
that which seemed so out of place in the reliant little face. A
pronounced fear was also expressed, and the two were so marked that it
was hard to say which feeling predominated. Hatred had stirred depths
of fire in her beautiful eyes, but fear had paled her features, had
set drawn lines about her mouth and brows. He wondered.

"You are right, Mr. Tresler, in that you think I dread for your
safety," she went on presently. "It was certainly that dread that
brought me out here to-day. You do not anticipate a collision because
you are a brave man. You have no fear