o was at Calabasas, knew Nan would not be alarmed should
her uncle not return that night. But early in the morning a messenger
from McAlpin rode to her with a note, telling her of the accident.

Whatever his vices, Duke had been a good protector to his dead
brother's child. He had sent her to good schools and tried to revive
in her, despite her untoward surroundings, the better traditions of
the family as it had once flourished in Kentucky. Nan took the saddle
for Sleepy Cat in haste and alarm. When she reached her uncle's
bedside she understood how seriously he had been hurt, and the
doctor's warnings were not needed to convince her he must have care.

Duke refused to let her leave him, in any case, and Nan relieved the
nurse, and what was of equal moment, made herself custodian of the
cash in hand before Duke's town companions could get hold of it.
Occasional trips to the Gap were necessary as the weeks passed and her
uncle could not be moved. These Nan had feared as threatening an
encounter either by accident, or on his part designed, with de Spain.
But the impending encounter never took place. De Spain, attending
closely to his own business, managed to keep accurate track of her
whereabouts without getting in her way. She had come to Sleepy Cat
dreading to meet him and fearing his influence over her, but this
apprehension, with the passing of a curiously brief period, dissolved
into a confidence in her ability to withstand further interference, on
any one's part, with her feelings.

Gale Morgan rode into town frequently, and Nan at first painfully
apprehended hearing some time of a deadly duel between her truculent
Gap admirer and her persistent town courtier--who was more
considerate and better-mannered, but no less dogged and, in fact, a
good deal more difficult to handle.

As to the boisterous mountain-man, his resolute little cousin made no
secret of her detestation of him. She denied and defied him as openly
as a girl could and heard his threats with continued indifference. She
was quite alone, too, in her fear of any fatal meeting between the two
men who seemed determined to pursue her.

The truth was that after Calabasas, de Spain, from Thief River to
Sleepy Cat, was a marked man. None sought to cross his path or his
purposes. Every one agreed he would yet be killed, but not the
hardiest of the men left to attack him cared to undertake the job
themselves. The streets of the towns and the trails of the mo