t up, Lee," cut in Buck. He sat forward in his chair, drinking up
her story.

"Go on."

"This morning we saw the same posse skirting through the valley and knew
that they were on the old trail. Dan sent Gregg over the hills and rode
Vic's horse down so that the posse would mistake him, and he could lead
them out of the way. I was afraid, terribly, I was afraid that if the
posse got close and began shooting Dan would--"

She stopped; her eyes begged them to understand.

"Go on," said Lee Haines, shuddering slightly. "I know what you mean."

"But I watched him ride down the slope," she cried joyously, "and I saw
the posse close on him--almost on top of him when he reached the valley.
I saw the flash of their guns. I saw them shoot. I wasn't afraid that
Dan would be hurt, for he seems to wear a charm against bullets--I
wasn't much afraid of that, but I dreaded to see him turn and go back
through that posse like a storm. But--" she caught both hands to her
breast and her bright face tilted up--"even when the bullets must have
been whistling around him he didn't look back. He rode straight on and
on, out of view, and I knew"--her voice broke with emotion--"oh, Buck,
I knew that he had won, and I had won; that he was safe forever; that
there was no danger of him ever slipping back into that terrible other
self; I knew that I'd never again have to dream of that whistling in the
wind; I knew that he was ours--Joan's and mine."

"By God," broke out Buck, "I'm happier than if you'd found a gold mine,
Kate. It don't seem no ways--but if you seen that with your own eyes,
it's possible true. He's changed."

"I've been almost afraid to be happy all these years," she said, "but
now I want to sing and cry at the same time. My heart is so full that
it's overflowing, Buck."

She brushed the tears away and smiled at them.

"Tell me all about yourselves. Everything. You first, Lee. You've been
longer away."

He did not answer for a moment, but sat with his head fallen, watching
her thoughtfully. Women had been the special curse in Lee Haines' life;
they had driven him to the crime that sent him West into outlawry long
years before; through women, as he himself foreboded, he would come at
last to some sordid, petty end; but here sat the only one he had loved
without question, without regret, purely and deeply, and as he watched
her, more beautiful than she had been in her girlhood, it seemed, as he
heard the fitful laughter of J