pose, he knew that she was keyed up for tragedy. She meant to defend the
boy from him if it resulted in homicide.

It did not occur to him to be afraid. He laughed aloud, half in
admiration, half in derision.

"I b'lieve you would, you spunky li'l wild cat," he told her in great
good humor.

"Run, Bob," called June to the boy.

He stood, hesitating. His impulse was to turn and fly, but he could not
quite make up his mind to leave her alone with Houck.

The cowman swung toward the girl.

"Keep back!" she ordered.

Her spurt of defiance tickled him immensely. He went directly to her, his
stride unfaltering.

"Want to shoot up poor Jake, do you? An' you an' him all set for a
honeymoon. Well, go to it, June. You can't miss now."

He stood a yard or so from her, easy and undisturbed, laughing in genuine
enjoyment. He liked the child's pluck. The situation, with its salty tang
of danger, was wholly to his taste.

But he had disarmed the edge of June's anger and apprehension. His
amusement was too real. It carried the scene from tragedy to farce.

June's outburst had not been entirely for the sake of Bob. Back of the
immediate cause was the desire to break away from this man's dominance.
She had rebelled in the hope of establishing her individual freedom. Now
she knew this was vain. What was the use of opposing one who laughed at
her heroics and ignored the peril of his position? There was not any way
to beat him.

She pushed the six-shooter back into its holster and cried out at him
bitterly. "I think you're the devil or one of his fiends."

"An' I think you're an angel--sometimes," he mocked.

"I hate you!" she said, and two rows of strong little white teeth snapped
tight.

"Sho! Tha's just a notion you got. You like me fine, if you only knew it,
girl."

She was still shaken with the emotion through which she had passed. "You
never were nearer death, Jake Houck, than right now a minute ago."

His back to Dillon, the cowman gave a curt command. "Hit the trail,
boy--sudden."

Bob looked at June, whose sullen eyes were fighting those of her father's
guest. She had forgotten he was there. Without a word Bob vanished.

"So you love me well enough to shoot me, do you?" Houck jeered.

"I wish I could!" she cried furiously.

"But you can't. You had yore chance, an' you couldn't. What you need is a
master, some one you'll have to honor an' obey, some one who'll look
after you an' take the devil outa you.