uzzled by these unexpected
words. "There has nothing occurred between us, I am sure, which requires
explanation. Have we met before?"

The man smiled. Seeing the woman's face in the shadows he was still
convinced she was the same he had last parted with on the Salt Fork.
However, if she preferred to ignore all that, and begin their relations
anew, it was greatly to his liking. It gave him insight into her
character, and fresh confidence that he could gain her assistance.
Anyhow, he was ready enough to play her game.

"Let us assume not," just the slightest trace of mockery in the tone,
"and begin anew. At least, you will confess the receipt of my letters--I
am Bartlett Hawley."

She cast a half-frightened glance toward Keith, and the man, following
the direction of her eyes, perceived the presence of the other. His
right leg went backward, his hand dropping to the belt, his form
stiffening erect. Keith's voice, low but clear in the silence, seemed to
cut the air.

"Not a motion, Hawley! I have you covered."

"Oh, gentlemen, please don't!"

"Have no fear, Miss Maclaire; this man and I will settle our differences
elsewhere, and not in your presence." He stepped forth into the middle
of the room, revolver drawn, but held low at the hip, his watchful eyes
never deserting the gambler's face.

"Back up against the wall, Hawley," he commanded. "I hardly need to tell
you how I shoot, for we, at least, have met before. Now, I'm going
out, and leave you to your interview with Miss Maclaire, and I wish you
happiness and success."

He moved across to the opening, keeping his face toward his adversary;
then backed out slowly, closed the door with a snap, and sprang aside
to avoid any possibility of a bullet crashing after him. No sound of
movement from within reached his ears, however, and he walked silently
to the head of the stairs.

Chapter XXIII. An Unexpected Meeting

Keith paused at the landing, looking down into the deserted office,
almost tempted to return and force Hawley into a confession of his
purpose. It was easy for him to conceive what would be the final result
of this interview between the artistic gambler and Miss Maclaire. In
spite of the vague suspicion of evil which the plainsman had implanted
within the woman's mind, the other possessed the advantage, and would
certainly improve it. All conditions were decidedly in his favor. He
merely needed to convince the girl that she was actually the