looking at her. They
were now almost abreast. His fine resolution went smash overboard. The
very instinctive knowledge that her eyes were bent on his made him
steal a glance at her in spite of himself. The next instant he was
shamefacedly touching his hat. Though nothing was lost on her, Nan
professed not to see the greeting. He even continued to dream she did
not recognize him. Her eyes, in fact, were directed toward Sassoon,
and when she spoke her tone was dry with suspicion.

"Wait a moment, Sassoon. Where are you going?" she demanded. Sassoon
hitched with one hand at his trousers band. He inclined his head
sulkily toward his companion. "Starting a man on the trail for Sleepy
Cat."

"Stop," she exclaimed sharply, for de Spain, pushing his own horse
ahead, had managed without being observed, to kick Sassoon's horse in
the flank, and the two were passing. Sassoon at the resolute summons
stopped. De Spain could do no less; both men, halting, faced their
suspicious inquisitor. She scrutinized de Spain keenly. "What is this
man doing in the Gap?"

"He come up from Thief River last night," answered Sassoon monotonously.

"What is he doing here with you?" persisted Nan.

"He's a cousin of John Rebstock's from Williams Cache," continued
Sassoon. The yarn would have sounded decently well in the circumstances
for which it was intended, but in the searching gaze of the eyes now
confronting and clearly recognizing him, it sounded so grotesque that
de Spain would fully as lief have been sitting between his horse's
legs as astride his back.

"That's not true, Sassoon," said his relentless questioner. Her tone
and the expression of her face boded no friendliness for either of the
two she had intercepted.

De Spain had recovered his wits. "You're right," he interposed without
an instant's hesitation. "It isn't true. But that's not his fault; he
is under arrest, and is telling you what I told him to tell you. I
came in here this morning to take Sassoon to Sleepy Cat. He is a
prisoner, wanted for cutting up one of our stage-guards."

Nan, coldly sceptical, eyed de Spain. "And do you try to tell me"--she
pointed to Sassoon's unbound hands--"that he is riding out of here, a
free man, to go to jail?"

"I do tell you exactly that. He is my prisoner----"

"I don't believe either of you," declared Nan scornfully. "You are
planning something underhand together."

De Spain laughed coolly. "We've planned that much together, but