ast year or so
not a word!"

"Well, now," began the hunter, earnestly, "let's get the bad news over.
I'm sorry you must be worried. But you must learn to take the West as it
is. There's good an' bad, maybe more bad. That's because the country's
young.... So to come right out with it--this Beasley hired a gang of
outlaws to meet the stage you was goin' in to Snowdrop--to-morrow--an'
to make off with you."

"Make off with me?" ejaculated Helen, bewildered.

"Kidnap you! Which, in that gang, would be worse than killing you!"
declared Dale, grimly, and he closed a huge fist on his knee.

Helen was utterly astounded.

"How hor-rible!" she gasped out. "Make off with me!... What in Heaven's
name for?"

Bo gave vent to a fierce little utterance.

"For reasons you ought to guess," replied Dale, and he leaned forward
again. Neither his voice nor face changed in the least, but yet there
was a something about him that fascinated Helen. "I'm a hunter. I live
in the woods. A few nights ago I happened to be caught out in a storm
an' I took to an old log cabin. Soon as I got there I heard horses.
I hid up in the loft. Some men rode up an' come in. It was dark. They
couldn't see me. An' they talked. It turned out they were Snake Anson
an' his gang of sheep-thieves. They expected to meet Beasley there.
Pretty soon he came. He told Anson how old Al, your uncle, was on his
last legs--how he had sent for you to have his property when he died.
Beasley swore he had claims on Al. An' he made a deal with Anson to get
you out of the way. He named the day you were to reach Magdalena. With
Al dead an' you not there, Beasley could get the property. An' then he
wouldn't care if you did come to claim it. It 'd be too late.... Well,
they rode away that night. An' next day I rustled down to Pine. They're
all my friends at Pine, except old Al. But they think I'm queer. I
didn't want to confide in many people. Beasley is strong in Pine, an'
for that matter I suspect Snake Anson has other friends there besides
Beasley. So I went to see your uncle. He never had any use for me
because he thought I was lazy like an Indian. Old Al hates lazy men.
Then we fell out--or he fell out--because he believed a tame lion of
mine had killed some of his sheep. An' now I reckon that Tom might have
done it. I tried to lead up to this deal of Beasley's about you, but
old Al wouldn't listen. He's cross--very cross. An' when I tried to tell
him, why, he went right ou