glad with the swift joy that leaped into them.

"That is good of you! And how shall I pay?" she cried.

"With a kiss."

She drew back as if he had struck her, all the sparkling eagerness
driven from her face.

"Oh!" she moaned.

"Just one kiss--I don't ask anything more. Give me that, and I'll turn
him loose. Honor bright."

He held her startled gaze as a snake holds that of a fascinated bird.

"Choose," he told her, in his masterful way.

Her imagination conceived a vision of her young brother being tortured
by this man. She had not the least doubt that he would do what he said,
and probably would think the boy got only what he deserved.

"Take it," she told him, and waited.

Perhaps he might have spared her had it not been for the look of deep
contempt that bit into his vanity.

He kissed her full on the lips.

Instantly she woke to life, struck him on the cheek with her little,
brown fist, and, with a sob of woe, turned and ran from the room.

Weaver cursed himself in a fury of anger. He felt himself to be a hound
because of the thing he had done, and he hated the instinct in him that
drove him to master her. He had insulted and trampled on her. Yet he
knew in his heart that he would have killed another man for doing it.

[Illustration: SHE DREW BACK AS IF HE HAD STRUCK HER, ALL THE SPARKLING
EAGERNESS DRIVEN FROM HER FACE. _Page 116_]

CHAPTER IX

PUNISHMENT

The cattleman strode into the bunk house, where young Sanderson sat
sulkily on a bed under the persuasion of Curly's rifle.

"Have this boy's horse saddled and brought around, Curly."

"You're the doctor," answered the cowboy promptly, and forthwith
vanished outdoors to obey instructions.

Phil looked sullenly at his captor, and waited for him to begin. One of
his hands was under the pillow of the cot upon which he sat. His fingers
circled the butt of a revolver he had found there, where one of the
riders had chanced to leave it that morning.

"I'm going to turn you loose to go home to the hills," Weaver told him.

"And my sister?"

"She stays here."

"Then so do I."

"That's up to you. There's no law against camping on the plains--that
is, out of range of the Twin Star."

"What are you going to do with her?" the boy demanded ominously.

"If you ask no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

"You'll let her go home with me--that's what you'll do," cried Phil.

"I reckon not. You've got a license to feel lucky you're goin