iven more than a passing thought
to the sadness in his words, was picturing his fights, drinking in the
dash and courage which had so exalted him in her mind. With all his
loneliness, his danger, she almost envied him his devil-may-care, humorous
recklessness and good fortune, his superb self-confidence and prowess.
Here was a man who fought his own battles, who stood alone against the
best the world sent against him, giving blow for blow, and always
triumphing.

Mrs. Shields stirred, glanced at Helen's bowed head and sighed:

"Now I understand why James likes him so. Poor boy, I believe that if he
had a chance he would be a different and better man. James is right; he
always is."

"I think he is just splendid!" cried Miss Ritchie with a start, emerging
from her dreams of deeds of daring. "Simply splendid! Don't you Helen?"
she asked impulsively.

Helen arose and walked to the door of her room, turning her face toward
the wall as she passed them: "Yes, dear," she replied. "Good night."

"Oh, why are men so cruel!" she cried softly as she paused before her
mirror. "Why must they fight and kill one another! It's awful!"

The door had softly opened and closed and Miss Ritchie's arms were around
her neck, hugging tightly.

"It _is_ awful, dear," she said. "But they can't kill _him!_ They can't
hurt him, so don't you care. Come on to bed--I have _so_ much to talk
about! Don't put your hair up to-night, Helen--let's go right to bed!"

Helen impulsively kissed her and pushed her away, her face flushed.

"You dear, silly goose, do you think I am worrying about him? Why, I had
forgotten him. I'm thinking about James."

"Yes, of course you are," laughed Miss Ritchie. "I was only teasing you,
dear. But it _is_ too bad that nobody cares anything about him, isn't it,
Helen?"

Tears trembled in Helen's eyes and she turned quickly toward the bed.
"Well, it's his own fault--oh, don't talk to me, Grace! Poor James, all
alone out there on that awful plain! I'm just as blue as I can be, so
there!"

"Have a good, long cry, dear," suggested Miss Ritchie. "It does one _so_
much good," she added as she stepped before the mirror. "But I think he is
just as splendid as he can be--I wish I was a man like him!"

And while they played at pretending, the man who was uppermost in their
thoughts was playing a joke on the sheriff at the Cross Bar-8 which would
open that person's eyes wide in the morning.

. .