stager; I know a whole lot that I
wish I didn't know. I've known women who _said_ they didn't care--lots
of 'em--but they did; they all cared. They all knew they'd lost out.
There's only one end to the trail you're starting in on, and it ain't a
pretty one. Harf married you in good faith, and even if he _is_ gettin'
old and slow-footed and skinny, he's your husband and entitled to a
square deal."

Blinded by her tears, and weak with passionate resentment of his tone,
she could scarcely clamber down from the carriage. As soon as her feet
touched the ground she started away. Kelley retained her by the force of
his hand upon her wrist.

"Wait a moment," he said, huskily. "You're mad now and you want to
murder me, but think it all over and you'll see I'm your friend."

There was something in his voice which caused her to look squarely up
into his face, and the tenderness she saw there remained long in her
memory.

"You're too sweet and lovely to be the sport of a cheap skate like that.
Don't throw yourself away on any man. Good-by and God bless ye."

She walked away with bent head and tear-blinded eyes, her heart filled
with weakness and pain. She was like a child justly punished, yet
resenting it, and mingled with her resentment was a growing love and
admiration for the man whose blunt words had bruised her soul in the
hope of her redemption.

* * * * *

Kelley went back to his little office, gathered his small belongings
together, and called up Harford on the 'phone. "I'll take that blue
cayuse and that Denver-brand saddle, and call it square to date.... Yes,
I'm leaving. I've got a call to a ranch over on the Perco. Sorry, but I
reckon I've worked out my sentence.... All right. So long."

Ten minutes later he was mounted and riding out of town. The air was
crisp with autumn frost and the stars were blazing innumerably in the
sky. A coyote had begun his evening song, and to the north rose the
high, dark mass of the Book cliffs. Toward this wall he directed his
way. He hurried like one fleeing from temptation, and so indeed he was.

KELLY AS MARSHAL

I

Along about '96 Sulphur Springs had become several kinds of a bad town.
From being a small liquoring-up place for cattlemen it had taken on
successively the character of a land-office, a lumber-camp, and a
coal-mine.

As a cow town it had been hardly more than a hamlet. As a mining center
it rose to the dignity of possessing