ted the other. "Whut did
ye hit me fer, ye long-legged minin' jackass?"

The explanation was never uttered. Out from the surrounding gloom of
underbrush a hatless, dishevelled individual on foot suddenly dashed
into the centre of that hesitating ring of horsemen. With skilful
twist of his foot he sent a dismounted road-agent spinning over
backward, and managed to wrench a revolver from his hand. There was a
blaze of red flame, a cloud of smoke, six sharp reports, and a wild
stampede of frantic horsemen.

Then the Reverend Howard Wynkoop flung the empty gun disdainfully down
into the dirt, stepped directly across the motionless outstretched
body, and knelt humbly beside a slender, white-robed figure lying close
against the fringe of bushes. Tenderly he lifted the fair head to his
throbbing bosom, and gazed directly down into the white, unconscious
face. Even as he looked her eyes unclosed, her body trembling within
his arms.

"Have no fear," he implored, reading terror in the expression of her
face. "Miss Spencer--Phoebe--it is only I, Mr. Wynkoop."

"You! Have those awful creatures gone?"

"Yes, yes; be calm, I beg you. There is no longer the slightest
danger. I am here to protect you with my life if need be."

"Oh, Howard--Mr. Wynkoop--it is all so strange, so bewildering; my
nerves are so shattered! But it has taught me a great, great lesson.
How could I have ever been so blind? I thought Mr. Moffat and Mr.
McNeil were such heroes, and yet now in this hour of desperate peril it
was you who flew gallantly to my rescue! It is you who are the true
Western knight!"

And Mr. Wynkoop gazed down into those grateful eyes, and modestly
confessed it true.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PARTING HOUR

To Lieutenant Brant these proved days of bitterness. His sole comfort
was the feeling that he had performed his duty; his sustaining hope,
that the increasing rumors of Indian atrocity might soon lead to his
despatch upon active service. He had called twice upon Hampton, both
times finding the wounded man propped up in bed, very affable, properly
grateful for services rendered, yet avoiding all reference to the one
disturbing element between them.

Once he had accidentally met Naida, but their brief conversation left
him more deeply mystified then ever, and later she seemed to avoid him
altogether. The barrier between them no longer appeared as a figment
of her misguided imagination, but rather as a real thi