ith you or not. I'm not going to
pretend and make-believe, if that's what you want. I don't have to do
it."

"I see you don't," he retorted bluntly. "I suppose you don't have to
mind your own business either."

"It is my business when Ned follows you into robbery."

"Maybe I followed him," he jeered.

She bit back the tart answer on her tongue. What was the use of
quarreling? It used to be that they were good friends, but of late
they jangled whenever they met. Ever since the Western Express affair
she had held a grudge at him. Six months ago she had almost promised
to marry him. Now nothing was farther from her thoughts.

But he was still very much of the mind that she should.

"What's the matter with you, Boots?" he wanted to know roughly. "You
used to have some sense. You weren't always flying out at a fellow.
Now there's no way of pleasing you."

"I suppose it is odd that I don't want my friends to be thieves," she
flung out bitterly.

"Don't use that word if you mean me," he ordered.

"What word shall I substitute?"

He barely suppressed an oath. "I know what's ailing you? We're not
smooth enough up here for you. We're not educated up to your standard.
If I'd been to Cornell, say--"

"Take care," she warned with a flash of anger in her black eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Why should I cull my words so careful? I notice
yours ain't hand-picked. Ever since this guy Beaudry came spying into
the park, you've had no use for me. You have been throwing yourself at
his head and couldn't see any one else."

She gasped. "How dare you, Brad Charlton?"

His jealousy swept away the prudence that had dammed his anger.
"Didn't you take him out driving? Didn't you spend a night alone with
him and Dave Dingwell? Didn't you hot-foot it down to Hart's because
you was afraid yore precious spy would meet up with what he deserved?"

Beulah drew up Blacky abruptly. "Now you can leave me. Don't stop to
say good-bye. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again."

He had gone too far and he knew it. Sulkily he began to make his
apology. "You know how fond I am of you, Boots. You know--"

"Yes, I ought to. I've heard it often enough," she interrupted curtly.
"That's probably why you insult me?"

Her gypsy eyes stabbed him. She was furiously angry. He attempted to
explain. "Now, listen here, Beulah. Let's be reasonable."

"Are you going up or down?" she demanded. "I'm going the other way.