passionately.

"I thought you were a gentleman. I have really taken the trouble to
defend you against persons who evidently were not misled as to your
real nature. I will not listen to you," said Betty coldly. She
turned away from him, all her softened feeling changed to scorn.

"You shall listen to me," he whispered as he grasped her wrist and
pulled her backward. All the man's brutal passion had been aroused.
The fierce border blood boiled within his heart. Unmasked he showed
himself in his true colors a frontier desperado. His eyes gleamed
dark and lurid beneath his bent brows and a short, desperate laugh
passed his lips.

"I will make you love me, my proud beauty. I shall have you yet, one
way or another."

"Let me go. How dare you touch me!" cried Betty, the hot blood
coloring her face. She struck him a stinging blow with her free hand
and struggled with all her might to free herself; but she was
powerless in his iron grasp. Closer he drew her.

"If it costs me my life I will kiss you for that blow," he muttered
hoarsely.

"Oh, you coward! you ruffian! Release me or I will scream."

She had opened her lips to call for help when she saw a dark figure
cross the threshold. She recognized the tall form of Wetzel. The
hunter stood still in the doorway for a second and then with the
swiftness of light he sprang forward. The single straightening of
his arm sent Miller backward over a bench to the floor with a
crashing sound. Miller rose with some difficulty and stood with one
hand to his head.

"Lew, don't draw your knife," cried Betty as she saw Wetzel's hand
go inside his hunting shirt. She had thrown herself in front of him
as Miller got to his feet. With both little hands she clung to the
brawny arm of the hunter, but she could not stay it. Wetzel's hand
slipped to his belt.

"For God's sake, Lew, do not kill him," implored Betty, gazing
horror-stricken at the glittering eyes of the hunter. "You have
punished him enough. He only tried to kiss me. I was partly to
blame. Put your knife away. Do not shed blood. For my sake, Lew, for
my sake!"

When Betty found that she could not hold Wetzel's arm she threw her
arms round his neck and clung to him with all her young strength. No
doubt her action averted a tragedy. If Miller had been inclined to
draw a weapon then he might have had a good opportunity to use it.
He had the reputation of being quick with his knife, and many of his
past fights testified that h