ing here?" demanded Morgan, with an enraged oath.

"I left some business with you the other day at Calabasas half
finished," said de Spain. "I'm here this afternoon to clean it up. Get
away from that girl!"

His manner frightened even Nan. The quick step to the side and
back--poising himself like a fencer--his revolver restrained a moment
in its sheath by an eager right arm, as if at any instant it might
leap into deadly play.

Shocked with new fear, Nan hesitated. If it was play, it was too
realistic for the nerves even of a mountain girl. De Spain's angry
face and burning eyes photographed themselves on her memory from that
moment. But whatever he meant, she had her part to do. She backed,
with arms spread low at her sides, directly against her cousin. "You
shan't fight," she cried at de Spain.

"Stand away from that man!" retorted de Spain sternly.

"You shan't kill my cousin. What do you mean? What are you doing here?
Leave us!"

"Get away, Nan, I tell you. I'll finish him," cried Morgan, puncturing
every word with an oath.

She whirled and caught her cousin in her arms. "He will shoot us both
if you fire. Take me away, Gale. You coward," she exclaimed, whirling
again with trembling tones on de Spain, "would you kill a woman?"

De Spain saw the danger was past. It needed hardly an instant to show
him that Morgan had lost stomach for a fight. He talked wrathfully,
but he made no motion to draw. "I see I've got to chase you into a
fight," said de Spain contemptuously, and starting gingerly to circle
the hesitating cousin. Nan, in her excitement, ran directly toward the
enemy, as if to cut off his movement.

"Don't you dare put me in danger," she cried, facing de Spain
threateningly. "Don't you dare fight my cousin here."

"Stand away from me," hammered de Spain, eying Morgan steadily.

"He is wounded now," stormed Nan, so fast she could hardly frame the
words. "You shan't kill him. If you are a man, don't shoot a wounded
man and a woman. You shan't shoot. Gale! protect yourself!" Whirling
to face her cousin, she took the chance to back directly against de
Spain. Both hands were spread open and partly behind her, the palms
up, as if to check him. In the instant that she and de Spain were in
contact he realized, rather than saw--for his eyes never released
Morgan's eyes--what she was frantically slipping to him--the loaded
cartridge. It was done in a flash, and she was running from him again.
Her warm fing