't always trust you." After that she relapsed into
silence, read awhile, and dreamed awhile, looking into the fire, and
then she limped over to kiss Helen good night and left the room.

Next day she was rather quiet, seeming upon the verge of one of the
dispirited spells she got infrequently. Early in the evening, just after
the lights had been lit and she had joined Helen in the sitting-room, a
familiar step sounded on the loose boards of the porch.

Helen went to the door to admit Carmichael. He was clean-shaven,
dressed in his dark suit, which presented such marked contrast from
his riding-garb, and he wore a flower in his buttonhole. Nevertheless,
despite all this style, he seemed more than usually the cool, easy,
careless cowboy.

"Evenin', Miss Helen," he said, as he stalked in. "Evenin', Miss Bo. How
are you-all?"

Helen returned his greeting with a welcoming smile.

"Good evening--TOM," said Bo, demurely.

That assuredly was the first time she had ever called him Tom. As she
spoke she looked distractingly pretty and tantalizing. But if she had
calculated to floor Carmichael with the initial, half-promising, wholly
mocking use of his name she had reckoned without cause. The cowboy
received that greeting as if he had heard her use it a thousand times
or had not heard it at all. Helen decided if he was acting a part he
was certainly a clever actor. He puzzled her somewhat, but she liked his
look, and his easy manner, and the something about him that must have
been his unconscious sense of pride. He had gone far enough, perhaps too
far, in his overtures to Bo.

"How are you feelin'?" he asked.

"I'm better to-day," she replied, with downcast eyes. "But I'm lame
yet."

"Reckon that bronc piled you up. Miss Helen said there shore wasn't any
joke about the cut on your knee. Now, a fellar's knee is a bad place to
hurt, if he has to keep on ridin'."

"Oh, I'll be well soon. How's Sam? I hope he wasn't crippled."

"Thet Sam--why, he's so tough he never knowed he had a fall."

"Tom--I--I want to thank you for giving Riggs what he deserved."

She spoke it earnestly, eloquently, and for once she had no sly little
intonation or pert allurement, such as was her wont to use on this
infatuated young man.

"Aw, you heard about that," replied Carmichael, with a wave of his hand
to make light of it. "Nothin' much. It had to be done. An' shore I was
afraid of Roy. He'd been bad. An' so would any of the other boys. I