cheeks.

"I told you no," replied Neale.

His reply transported her into a sudden fury. She swung her hand
viciously. Hough caught it, saving Neale from a sounding slap in the
face.

"Ruby, don't lose your temper," remonstrated the gambler.

"He insulted me!" she cried, passionately.

"He did not. Ruby, you're spoiled--"

"Spoiled--hell!... Didn't he look at me, flirt with me? That's why I
asked him to dance. Then he insulted me. I'll make Cordy shoot him up
for it."

"No, you won't," replied Hough, and he pulled her toward his companion,
a tall woman with golden hair. "Stanton, shut her up."

The woman addressed spoke a few words in Ruby's ear. Then the girl
flounced away. But she spoke with withering scorn to Neale.

"What in hell did you come in here for, you big handsome stiff?"

With that she was lost amid her mirthful companions.

Hough turned to Neale. "The girl's a favorite. You ruffled her vanity...
you see. That's Benton. If you had happened to be alone you would have
had gunplay. Be careful after this."

"But I didn't flirt with her," protested Neale. "I only looked at
her--curiously, of course. And I said I wouldn't dance."

Hough laughed. "You're young in Benton. Neale, let me introduce to you
the lady who saved you from some inconvenience.... Miss Stanton--Mr.
Neale."

And that was how Neale met Beauty Stanton. It seemed she had done him
a service. He thanked her. Neale's manner with women was courteous and
deferential. It showed strangely here by contrast. The Stanton woman was
superb, not more than thirty years old, with a face that must have been
lovely once and held the haunting ghost of beauty still. Her hair was
dead gold; her eyes were large and blue, with dark circles under them;
and her features had a clear-cut classic regularity.

"Where's Ancliffe?" asked Hough, addressing Stanton. She pointed, and
Hough left them.

"Neale, you're new here," affirmed the woman, rather curiously.

"Didn't I look like it? I can't forget what that girl said," replied
Neale.

"Tell me."

"She asked me what in the hell I came here for. And she called me--"

"Oh, I heard what Ruby called you. It's a wonder it wasn't worse. She
can swear like a trooper. The men are mad over Ruby. It'd be just like
her to fall in love with you for snubbing her."

"I hope she doesn't," replied Neale, constrainedly.

"May I ask--what did you come here for?"

"You mean here to your dance-hall? Why, Hough brou