s
clasped about one knee;--listened in a kind of fascination, until the
last reverberations of the song had died out in a wailing echo; then
he sprung abruptly to his feet, drew one hand wearily across the
masked brow; raised his sombrero with a deft movement, and bowed
himself out--out into the night, where the moon and stars looked down
at him, perhaps with more lenience than on some.

Alice Terry rose from her seat, crossed over to the door, and gazed
after the straight handsome form, until it had mingled with the other
road-agents, who had camped upon the slope. Then she turned about, and
sat down on the couch beside Anita.

"You are still, dear," she said, stroking the other's long, unconfined
hair. "Are you lonely? If not why don't you say something?"

"I have nothing to say," replied Anita, a sad, sweet smile playing
over her features. "I have been too much taken up with the music to
think of talking."

"But, you are seldom talkative."

"So brother used to tell me. He said I had lost my heart, and tongue."

Redburn was drumming on the window-casing with his fingers;--a sort of
lonely tattoo it was.

"You seemed to be much interested in the outlaw. Miss Terry," he
observed, as if by chance the thought had just occurred to him, when,
in reality, he was downright jealous. "Had you two ever met--"

"Certainly not, sir," and Alice flashed him an inquiring glance. "Why
do you ask?"

"Oh! for no reason, in particular, only I fancied that song was meant
especially for him."

Redburn, afterward, would have given a hundred dollars to have
recalled those words, for the haughty, half-indignant look Alice gave
him instantly showed him he was on the wrong track.

If he wished to court her favor, it must be in a different way, and he
must not again give her a glimpse of his jealous nature.

"You spoke of a brother," said Alice, turning to Anita. "Does he live
here with you?"

"Yes, when not away on business. He has now been absent for over a
month."

"Indeed! Is he as sweet, sad, and silent as yourself?"

"Oh! no; Ned is unlike me; he is buoyant, cheerful, pleasant."

"Ned? What is his full name, dear?"

"Edward Harris."

Alice grew suddenly pale and speechless, as she remembered the
handsome young miner whom Fearless Frank had slain in the duel, just
outside of Deadwood. This, then, was his sister; and evidently she as
yet knew nothing of his sad fate.

"Do you know aught concerning Edward Harris?" Re