each other without interruption. For, Rance,
as if revolving some plan of action in his mind, had turned on his heel
and walked off a little way. A moment more, however, and he was back
again and more malevolently aggressive than ever.

"No strangers are allowed in this camp," he said, glowering at Johnson;
and then, his remark having passed unheeded by the other, he sneered:
"Perhaps you're off the road; men often get mixed up when they're
visiting Nina Micheltorena on the back trail."

"Oh, Rance!" protested the Girl.

But Johnson, though angered, let the insinuation pass unnoticed, and
went on to say that he had stopped in to rest his horse and, perhaps, if
invited, try his luck at a game of cards. And with this intimation he
crossed over to the poker table where he picked up the deck that Rance
had been using.

Rance hesitated, and finally followed up the stranger until he brought
up face to face with him.

"You want a game, eh?" he drawled, coolly impudent. "I haven't heard
your name, young man."

"Name," echoed the Girl with a cynical laugh. "Oh, names out here--"

"My name's Johnson--" spoke up the man, throwing down the cards on the
table.

"Is what?" laughed the Girl, saucily, and, apparently, trying to relieve
the strained situation by her bantering tone.

"--Of Sacramento," he finished easily.

"Of Sacramento," repeated the Girl in the same jesting manner as before;
then, quickly coming out from behind the bar, she went over to him and
put out her hand, saying:

"I admire to know you, Mr. Johnson o' Sacramento."

Johnson bowed low over her hand.

"Thank you," he said simply.

"Say, Girl, I--" began Rance, fuming at her behaviour.

"Oh, sit down, Rance!" The interruption came from the Girl as she pushed
him lightly out of her way; then, perching herself up on one end of the
faro table, at which Johnson had taken a seat, she ventured:

"Say, Mr. Johnson, do you know what I think o' you?"

Johnson eyed her uncertainly, while Rance's eyes blazed as she blurted
out:

"Well, I think you staked out a claim in a etiquette book." And then
before Johnson could answer her, she went on to say: "So you think you
can play poker?"

"That's my conviction," Johnson told her, smilingly.

"Out o' every fifty men who think they can play poker one ain't
mistaken," was the Girl's caustic observation. The next instant,
however, she jumped down from the table and was back at her post, where,
fearful lest h