er.

That word "Delilah!" rang in her brain to the exclusion of all the
world. Vaguely she heard voices shouting--she turned a little and saw
Haines facing her with his revolver in his hand, but prevented from
moving by the wolf who crouched snarling at his feet. The order of his
master kept him there even after that master was gone. Now men ran out
into the clearing. A keen whistle sounded far off among the willows,
and the wolf leaped away from his prisoner and into the shadows on the
trail of Dan.

* * * * *

Tex Calder prided himself on being a light sleeper. Years spent in
constant danger enabled him to keep his sense of hearing alert even
when he slept. He had never been surprised. It was his boast that he
never would be. Therefore when a hand dropped lightly on his shoulder
he started erect from his blankets with a curse and grasped his
revolver. A strong grip on his wrist paralysed his fingers. Whistling
Dan leaned above him.

"Wake up," said the latter.

"What the devil--" breathed the marshal. "You travel like a cloud
shadow, Dan. You make no sound."

"Wake up and talk to me."

"I'm awake all right. What's happened?"

There was a moment of silence while Dan seemed to be trying for
speech.

Black Bart, at the other side of the clearing, pointed his nose at
the yellow moon and wailed. He was very close, but the sound was so
controlled that it seemed to come at a great distance from some wild
spirit wandering between earth and heaven.

Instead of speaking Dan jumped to his feet and commenced pacing up and
down, up and down, a rapid, tireless stride; at his heels the wolf
slunk, with lowered head and tail. The strange fellow was in some
great trouble, Calder could see, and it stirred him mightily to know
that the wild man had turned to him for help. Yet he would ask no
questions.

When in doubt the cattleman rolls a cigarette, and that was what
Calder did. He smoked and waited. At last the inevitable came.

"How old are you, Tex?"

"Forty-four."

"That's a good deal. You ought to know something."

"Maybe."

"About women?"

"Ah!" said Calder.

"Bronchos is cut out chiefly after one pattern," went on Dan.

"They's chiefly jest meanness. Are women the same--jest cut after one
pattern?"

"What pattern, Dan?"

"The pattern of Delilah! They ain't no trust to be put in 'em?"

"A good many of us have found that out."

"I thought one woman was different from