honestly afraid he would kill
you?"

"No, I wasn't!" declared Denver. "He didn't look bad to me--don't now
and never did--and as long as the cards are coming my way I don't let no
alleged bad-man run it over me. Here's the gun that I took away from
him."

"Yes, I noticed it," she said. "But when he comes back for it are you
going to give it up?"

"Sure," answered Denver, "just show me a rock-pile and I'll run him out
of town like a rabbit."

"And you fought him with _rocks_!" she said half to herself, "I
wish I were as brave as that."

"Well, it's all in your mind," expounded Denver. "Some people are afraid
to crack an egg but I'm game to try anything once."

"So am I!" she defended looking him boldly in the eye but he shook his
head and smiled.

"Nope," he said, "you don't believe in kisses. But I was willing to take
a chance on getting killed."

"No," she said, "a kiss means more than that. It means--well, it means
that you love someone."

"It means what you want it to mean," he corrected. "Don't you have to
kiss the tenor in these operas?"

"Well that's different," she responded blushing. "That's why I'm afraid
I'll never succeed! Of course we're taught to do stage kisses, but
somehow I can't bring myself to it. But oh, I do so love to sing! I like
it all, except just that part of it--and the singers are not all nice
men. Some of them just make a business of flattering pretty girls and
offering to get them a hearing. That's why some girls succeed and get
such big parts--they have an understanding with someone that can use his
influence with the directors. They don't take the best singers and
actors at all, it's all done by intrigue and money. Oh, I wish some real
_nice_ man would start a new company and invite me to take a part.
I've heard one was being organized--a traveling company that will sing
in all the big cities--and I've written to my music teacher about it.
But if I don't get some position my money will all be gone in no time
and then--well, what will I do?"

She looked at him bravely and he saw in her eyes the calmness that goes
with desperation.

"You write to me," he said, "and I'll send you the last dollar I've
got."

"No, I didn't mean that," she replied, "I can earn my living at
something. But father and mother have spent all their money in training
me to be a great singer and I just can't bear to disappoint them. It's
cost ten thousand dollars to bring me where I am, and this five