The "Wild West" Collection. William MacLeod Raine

of his unworthiness, but there was a tumult in her heart at sight of him. No matter how her judgment condemned him as a villain, some instinct in her denied the possibility of it. She was torn in conflict between her liking for him and her conviction that he deserved only contempt. Somehow it hurt her too that he accepted without protest her verdict, appeared so willing to be a stranger to her.

      Now that the actual physical danger of her adventure was past, Melissy was aware too of a chill dread lurking at her heart. She was no longer buoyed up by the swiftness of action which had called for her utmost nerve. There was nothing she could do now but wait, and waiting was of all things the one most foreign to her impulsive temperament. She acknowledged too some fear of this quiet, soft-spoken frontiersman. All Arizona knew not only the daredevil spirit that fired his gentleness, but the competence with which he set about any task he assigned himself. She did not see how he _could_ unravel this mystery. She had left no clues behind her, she felt sure of that, and yet was troubled lest he guessed at her secret behind that mask of innocence he wore. He did not even remotely guess it as yet, but he was far closer to the truth than he pretended. The girl knew she should leave him and go about her work. Her rle was to appear as inconspicuous as possible, but she could not resist the fascination of trying to probe his thoughts.

      "I suppose your posse will come back with the hold-ups in a few hours. Will it be worth while to wait for them?" she asked with amiable derision.

      The ranger had been absorbed in thought, his chin in his hand, but he brought his gaze back from the distance to meet hers. What emotion lay behind those cold eyes she could not guess.

      "You're more hopeful than I am, Miss Lee."

      "What are you sending them out for, then?"

      "Oh, well, the boys need to work off some of their energy, and there's always a show they might happen onto the robbers."

      "Do you think some of the Roaring Fork gang did it?"

      "Can't say."

      "I suppose you are staying here in the hope that they will drop in and deliver themselves to you."

      He looked at her out of an expressionless face. "That's about it, I reckon. But what I tell the public is that I'm staying so as to be within telephone connection. You see, Sheriff Burke is moving up to cut them off from the Catalinas, Jackson is riding out from Mammoth to haid them off that way, these anxious lads that have just pulled out from here are taking care of the Galiuros. I'm supposed to be sitting with my fingers on the keys as a sort of posse dispatcher."

      "Well, I hope you won't catch them," she told him bluntly.

      "That seems to be a prevailing sentiment round here. You say it right hearty too; couldn't be more certain of your feelings if it had been your own father."

      He said it carelessly, yet with his keen blue eyes fixed on her. Nevertheless, he was totally unprepared for the effect of his words. The color washed from her bronzed cheeks, and she stood staring at him with big, fear-filled eyes.

      "What--what do you mean?" she gasped. "How dare you say that?"

      "I ain't said anything so terrible. You don't need to take it to heart like that." He gave her a faint smile for an instant. "I'm not really expecting to arrest Mr. Lee for holding up that stage."

      The color beat back slowly into her face. She knew she had made a false move in taking so seriously his remark.

      "I don't think you ought to joke about a thing like that," she said stiffly.

      "All right. I'll not say it next time till I'm in earnest," he promised as he walked away.

      "I wonder if he really meant anything," the girl was thinking in terror, and he, "she knows something; now, I would like to know what."

      Melissy attended to her duties in the postoffice after the arrival of the stage, and looked after the dining-room as usual, but she was all the time uneasily aware that Jack Flatray had quietly disappeared. Where had he gone? And why? She found no answer to that question, but the ranger dropped in on his bronco in time for supper, imperturbable and self-contained as ever.

      "Think I'll stay all night if you have a room for me," he told her after he had eaten.

      "We have a room," she said. "What more have you heard about the stage robbery?"

      "Nothing, Miss Lee."

      "Oh, I thought maybe you had," she murmured tremulously, for his blue eyes were unwaveringly upon her and she could not know how much or how little he might mean.

      Later she saw him sitting on the fence, holding genial converse with Jim Budd. The waiter was flashing a double row of white teeth in deep laughter at something the deputy had told him. Evidently they were already friends. When she looked again, a few minutes later, she knew Jack had reached the point where he was pumping Jim and the latter was disseminating misinformation. That the negro was stanch enough, she knew, but she was on the anxious seat lest his sharp-witted inquisitor get what he wanted in spite of him. After he had finished with Budd the ranger drifted around to the kitchen in time to intercept Hop Ling casually as he came out after finishing his evening's work. The girl was satisfied Flatray could not have any suspicion of the truth. Nevertheless, she wished he would let the help alone. He might accidentally stumble on something that would set him on the right track.

      CHAPTER VIII

      THE BOONE-BELLAMY FEUD IS RENEWED

      "Here's six bits on the counter under a seed catalogue. Did you leave it here, daddy?"

      Champ Lee, seated on the porch just outside the store door, took the pipe from his mouth and answered:

      "Why no, honey, I don't reckon I did, not to my ricollection."

      "That's queer. I know I didn't----"

      Melissy broke her sentence sharply. There had come into her eyes a spark of excitement, simultaneous with the brain-flash which told her who had left the money. No doubt the quarter and the half dollar had been lying there ever since the day last week when Morse had eaten at the Bar Double G. She addressed an envelope, dropped the money in, sealed the flap, and put the package beside a letter addressed to T. L. Morse.

      Lee, full of an unhappy restlessness which he could not control, presently got up and moved away to the stables. He was blaming himself bitterly for the events of the past few days.

      It was perhaps half an hour later that Melissy looked up to see the sturdy figure of Morse in the doorway. During the past year he had filled out, grown stronger and more rugged. His deep tan and heavy stride pronounced him an outdoor man no less surely than the corduroy suit and the high laced miners' boots.

      He came forward to the postoffice window without any sign of recognition.

      "Is Mr. Flatray still here?"

      "No!" Without further explanation Melissy took from the box the two letters addressed to Morse and handed them to him.

      The girl observed the puzzled look that stole over his face at sight of the silver in one envelope. A glance at the business address printed on the upper left hand corner enlightened him. He laid the money down in the stamp window.

      "This isn't mine."

      "You heard what my father said?"

      "That applies to next time, not to this."

      "I think it does apply to this time."

      "I can't see how you're going to make me take it back. I'm an obstinate man."

      "Just as you like."

      A sudden flush of anger swept her. She caught up the silver and flung it through the open window into the dusty road.

      His dark eyes met hers steadily and a dull color burned in his tanned cheeks. Without a word he turned away, and instantly she regretted what she had done. She had insulted him deliberately and put herself in the wrong. At bottom she was a tender-hearted child, even though her father and his friends had always spoiled her, and she could not but reproach herself for the hurt look she had brought into his strong, sad