now they are, and--and 'twas only yesterday,
ma'am, I told him not to--to get gay, the poor boy. When he tried
to--to--" She broke down and sobbed.

Her mistress smiled in spite of herself, though she was bitterly aware
that even Nora's grief was only superficially ludicrous.

"We're going to save him, Nora, if we can. There's hope while there's
life. You see, Mac himself is full of courage. HE hasn't given up. We
must keep up our courage, too."

"Yes, ma'am, but this is the first gentleman friend I ever had hanged,
and--" She broke off, sobbing, leaving the rest as a guess.

Helen filled it out aloud. "And you were going to say that you care more
for him than any of the others. Well, you must stop coquetting and tell
him so when we have saved him."

"Yes, ma'am," agreed Nora, very repentant for the moment of the fact
that it was her nature to play with the hearts of those of the
male persuasion. Immediately she added: "He was THAT kind, ma'am,
tender-hearted."

Helen, whose own heart was breaking, continued to soothe her. "Don't say
WAS, child. You are to be brave, and not think of him that way."

"Yes, ma'am. He told me he was going to buy cows with the thousand
dollars he won yesterday. I knew he meant--"

"Yes, of course. It's a cowboy's way of saying that he means to start
housekeeping. Have you the telegram, Missou?" For that young man was
standing in the doorway.

He handed her the yellow slip. She ripped open the envelope and read:
Company B en route. Railroad connections uncertain Postpone crisis long
as possible. May reach Gimlet Butte by ten-thirty.

Her first thought was of unspeakable relief. The militia was going to
take a hand. The boys in khaki would come marching down the street, and
everything would be all right. But hard on the heels of her instinctive
gladness trod the sober second thought. Ten-thirty at best, and perhaps
later! Would they wait that long, or would they do their cowardly work
as soon as night fell She must contrive to delay them till the train
drew in. She must play for those two lives with all her woman's wit;
must match the outlaw's sinister cunning and fool him into delay. She
knew he would come if she sent for him. But how long could she keep
him? As long as he was amused at her agony, as long as his pleasure in
tormenting her was greater than his impatience to be at his ruffianly
work. Oh, if she ever needed all her power it would be to-night.

Throughout the day she