Salt Lake myself."

The answer did sound rude. I was still a cad. She eyed me, with a certain
whiteness, a certain puzzled intentness, a certain fugitive wistfulness--a
mute estimation that made me too conscious of her clear appraising gaze
and rack my brain for some disarming remark.

"You're not responsible for me, you would say?"

"I'm at your service," I corrected. The platitude was the best that I
could muster to my tongue.

"That is something," she mused. "Once you were not that--when I proposed a
partnership. You are afraid of me?" she asked.

"Why should I be?" I parried. But I was beginning; or continuing. I had
that curious inward quiver, not unpleasant, anticipatory of possible
events.

"You are a cautious Yankee. You answer one question with another." She
laughed lightly. "Yes, why should you be? I cannot run away with you; not
when Daniel and your Mr. Jenks are watching us so closely. And you have
no desire to be run away with. And Pedro must be considered. Altogether,
you are well protected, even if your conscience slips. But tell me: Do you
blame me for running away from Montoyo?"

"Not in the least," I heartily assured.

"You would have helped me, at the last?"

"I think I should have felt fully warranted." Again I floundered.

"Even to stowing me with a bull train?"

"Anywhere, madam, for your betterment, to free you from that brute."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands. "But you didn't have to. I only embarrassed
you by appearing on my own account. You have some spirit, though. You came
to the Adams circle, last night. You did your duty. I expected you. But
you must not do it again."

"Why not?"

"There are objections, there."

"From you?"

"No."

"From Hyrum?"

"Not yet."

"From that Daniel, then. Well, I will come to Captain Adams' camp as often
as I like, if with the Captain's permission. And I shall come to see you,
whether with his permission or not."

"I don't know," she faltered. "I--you would have helped me once, you say?
And once you refused me. Would you help me next time?"

"As far as I could," said I--another of those damned hedging responses
that for the life of me I could not manipulate properly.

"Oh!" she cried. "Of course! The queen deceived you; now you are wise. You
are afraid. But so am I. Horribly afraid. I have misplayed again." She
laughed bitterly. "I am with Daniel--it is to be Daniel and I in the
Lion's den. You know they call Brigham Young the Lion of t