e been on his trail ever since."

"A murder! Did you imagine he came this way?"

"Not very likely; fact of it is, the sand storm yesterday destroyed all
traces, and, as a result, we've lost him. So I headed a few of the boys
over in this direction, as I wanted to relieve you of anxiety."

She was silent an instant, and the man crossed to the fireplace, where
Keith could gain a glimpse of him. Already suspicious from the familiar
sound of his voice, he was not surprised to recognize "Black Bart." The
plainsman's fingers gripped the negro's arm, his eyes burning. So this
gambler and blackleg was the gentlemanly Mr. Hawley, was he; well, what
could be his little game? Why had he inveigled the girl into this lonely
spot? And what did he now propose doing with her? As he crouched there,
peering through that convenient crack in the door, Keith completely
forgot his own peril, intent only upon this new discovery. She came
slowly around the end of the table, and stood leaning against it, her
face clearly revealed in the light of the lamp. For the first time
Keith really perceived its beauty, its fresh charm. Could such as she
be singer and dancer in a frontier concert hall? And if so, what strange
conditions ever drove her into that sort of life?

"Is--is Fred with you?" she questioned, doubtfully.

"No; he's with another party riding farther west," the man's eyes
surveying her with manifest approval. "You are certainly looking fine
to-night, my girl. It's difficult to understand how I ever managed to
keep away from you so long."

She flushed to the hair, her lips trembling at the open boldness of his
tone.

"I--I prefer you would not speak like that," she protested.

"And why not?" with a light laugh. "Come, Christie, such fine airs are a
trifle out of place. If I didn't know you were a concert hall artist,
I might be more deeply impressed. As it is, I reckon you've heard love
words before now."

"Mr. Hawley, I have trusted you as a gentleman. I never came here except
on your promise to bring me to my brother," and she stood erect before
him. "You have no right to even assume that I am Christie Maclaire."

"Sure not; I don't assume. I have seen that lady too often to be
mistaken. Don't try on that sort of thing with me--I don't take to it
kindly. Perhaps a kiss might put you in better humor."

He took a step forward, as though proposing to carry out his threat, but
the girl stopped him, her eyes burning with indign