nd, mind you, Gordon Smith's brother
had never seen the man in his life until he walked up and shot him
dead. Oh, this was a peaceful country a few years ago! Gordon Smith
was right-of-way man in the mountains then. He buried his brother, and
asked the officers what they were going to do about getting the
murderer. They laughed at him. He made no protest, except to ask for a
deputy United States marshal's commission. When he got it he started
for Williams Cache after Williams in a buckboard--think of it,
Dicksie--and didn't they laugh at him! He did not even know the
trails, and imagine riding two hundred miles in a buckboard to arrest
a man in the mountains! He was gone six weeks, and came back with
Williams's body strapped to the buckboard behind him. He never told
the story; all he said when he handed in his commission and went back
to his work was that the man was killed in a fair fight. Hate him! No
wonder they hate him--the Williams Cache gang and all their friends
on the range! Your cousin thinks it policy to placate that element,
hoping that they won't steal your cattle if you are friendly with
them. I know nothing about that, but I do know something about
Whispering Smith. It will be a bad day for Williams Cache when they
start him up again. But what has that to do with your trouble? He will
not eat you up if you go to the camp, Dicksie. You are just raising
bogies."

They had moved to the front porch and Marion was sitting in the
rocking-chair. Dicksie stood with her back against one of the pillars
and looked at her. As Marion finished Dicksie turned and, with her
hand on her forehead, looked in wretchedness of mind out on the
valley. As far, in many directions, as the eye could reach the waters
spread yellow in the flood of sunshine across the lowlands. There was
a moment of silence. Dicksie turned her back on the alarming sight.
"Marion, I can't do it!"

"Oh, yes, you can if you want to, Dicksie!" Dicksie looked at her with
tearless eyes. "It is only a question of being plucky enough,"
insisted Marion.

"Pluck has nothing to do with it!" exclaimed Dicksie in fiery tones.
"I should like to know why you are always talking about my not having
courage! This isn't a question of courage. How can I go to a man that
I talked to as I talked to him in your house and ask for help? How can
I go to him after my cousin has threatened to kill him, and gone into
court to prevent his coming on our land? Shouldn't I look