this must be
some purpose which she could not fathom.

"Elected yourself chaperon of the young lady, have you, Mr. Keller?"
Buck asked pleasantly.

The young man smiled at the girl before he answered. "You've been
losing too much time on the job, Mr. Weaver. Subject to her approval, I
got a notion I'd take her back home."

"Best place for her," assented Weaver promptly. "I've been thinking for
a day or two that she ought to get back to those school kids of hers.
But I'm going to take her there myself."

"Yourself!" Phyllis spoke up in quick surprise.

"Why not?" The cattleman smiled.

"Do you mean with your band of thugs?"

"No, ma'am. You and I will be enough."

The suggestion was of a piece with his usual audacity. The girl knew
that he would be quite capable of riding with her into the hills, where
he had a score of bitter, passionate enemies, and of affronting them, if
the notion should come into his head, even in their stronghold. Within
twenty-four hours he had shot one of them; yet he would go among them
with his jaunty, mocking smile and that hateful confidence of his.

"You would not be safe. They might kill you."

"Would that gratify you?"

"Yes!" she cried passionately.

He bowed. "Anything to give pleasure to a lady."

"No--you can't go! I won't go with you. I wouldn't be responsible for
what might happen."

"What might happen--another family impulse?"

"You know as well as I do--after what you've done. And there's bad blood
between you already. Besides, you are so reckless, so intemperate in
what you say and do."

"All right. If you won't go with me, I'll go alone," he said.

She appealed to Keller to support her, but the latter shook his head.

"No use. A wilful man must have his way. If he says he's going, I reckon
he'll go. But whyfor should I be euchred out of my ride. Let me go along
to keep the peace."

Her eyes thanked him. "If you are sure you can spare the time."

"Don't incommode yourself, if you're in a hurry. We won't miss you."
Weaver's cold stare more than hinted that three would be a crowd.

The younger man ignored him cheerfully. "Time to burn, Miss Sanderson."

"You don't want to let that spring plowing suffer," the cattleman
suggested ironically.

"That's so. Glad you mentioned it. I'll try to pick up some one to do it
at the store," returned the optimist.

"Seems to me there are a pair of us, Mr. Keller, who may not be welcome
at Seven Mile. Last time you w