t cover from any eyes
but its own. Life on the range, its social disadvantages, its rough
diversions, these they spoke of, Lambert's lips dry with his eagerness
to tell her more.

How quickly it had laid hold of him again at sight of her, this
unreasonable longing! The perfume of his romance suffused her, purging
away all that was unworthy.

"I trembled every second that day for fear your horse would break
through the platform and throw you," she said, suddenly coming back to
the subject that he wanted most to discuss.

"I didn't think of it till a good while afterward," he said in slow
reflection.

"I didn't suppose I'd ever see you again, and, of course, I never once
thought you were the famous Duke of Chimney Butte I heard so much about
when I got home."

"More notorious than famous, I'm afraid, Miss Kerr."

"Jim Wilder used to work for us; I knew him well."

Lambert bent his head, a shadow of deepest gravity falling like a cloud
over the animation which had brightened his features but a moment
before. He sat in contemplative silence a little while, his voice low
when he spoke.

"Even though he deserved it, I've always been sorry it happened."

"Well, if you're sorry, I guess you're the only one. Jim was a bad kid.
Where's that horse you raced the train on?"

"I'm resting him up a little."

"You had him out here the other day."

"Yes. I crippled him up a little since then."

"I'd like to have that horse. Do you want to sell him, Duke?"

"There's not money enough made to buy him!" Lambert returned, lifting
his head quickly, looking her in the eyes so directly that she colored,
and turned her head to cover her confusion.

"You must think a lot of him when you talk like that."

"He's done me more than one good turn, Miss Kerr," he explained, feeling
that she must have read his harsh thoughts. "He saved my life only a
week ago. But that's likely to happen to any man," he added quickly,
making light of it.

"Saved your life?" said she, turning her clear, inquiring eyes on him
again in that expression of wonder that was so vast in them. "How did he
save your life, Duke?"

"I guess I was just talking," said he, wishing he had kept a better
hold on his tongue. "You know we have a fool way of saying a man's life
was saved in very trivial things. I've known people to declare that a
drink of whisky did that for them."

She lifted her brows as she studied his face openly and with such a
directness that