tlaw."

Beasley swung his arm in sudden violence, so hard that he flung his
glove to the floor. As he stooped to snatch it up he uttered a sibilant
hiss. Then, stalking to the door, he jerked it open, and slammed it
behind him. His loud voice, hoarse with passion, preceded the scrape and
crack of hoofs.

Shortly after supper that day, when Helen was just recovering her
composure, Carmichael presented himself at the open door. Bo was not
there. In the dimming twilight Helen saw that the cowboy was pale,
somber, grim.

"Oh, what's happened?" cried Helen.

"Roy's been shot. It come off in Turner's saloon But he ain't dead. We
packed him over to Widow Cass's. An' he said for me to tell you he'd
pull through."

"Shot! Pull through!" repeated Helen, in slow, unrealizing exclamation.
She was conscious of a deep internal tumult and a cold checking of blood
in all her external body.

"Yes, shot," replied Carmichael, fiercely.

"An', whatever he says, I reckon he won't pull through."

"O Heaven, how terrible!" burst out Helen. "He was so good--such a
man! What a pity! Oh, he must have met that in my behalf. Tell me, what
happened? Who shot him?"

"Wal, I don't know. An' thet's what's made me hoppin' mad. I wasn't
there when it come off. An' he won't tell me."

"Why not?"

"I don't know thet, either. I reckoned first it was because he wanted
to get even. But, after thinkin' it over, I guess he doesn't want me
lookin' up any one right now for fear I might get hurt. An' you're goin'
to need your friends. Thet's all I can make of Roy."

Then Helen hurriedly related the event of Beasley's call on her that
afternoon and all that had occurred.

"Wal, the half-breed son-of-a-greaser!" ejaculated Carmichael, in utter
confoundment. "He wanted you to marry him!"

"He certainly did. I must say it was a--a rather abrupt proposal."

Carmichael appeared to be laboring with speech that had to be smothered
behind his teeth. At last he let out an explosive breath.

"Miss Nell, I've shore felt in my bones thet I'm the boy slated to brand
thet big bull."

"Oh, he must have shot Roy. He left here in a rage."

"I reckon you can coax it out of Roy. Fact is, all I could learn was
thet Roy come in the saloon alone. Beasley was there, an' Riggs--"

"Riggs!" interrupted Helen.

"Shore, Riggs. He come back again. But he'd better keep out of my
way.... An' Jeff Mulvey with his outfit. Turner told me he heard an
argument an' then