“I am but the sister of the outlaw Silk Lasso Sam, remember.” “Granted.” “This does not deter you from wishing to keep up a friendship with me?” “Not in the slightest, for I abhor the old Biblical law of visiting upon the children the sins of the fathers, only applying it in your case to a sister’s suffering for a brother’s crimes.” “You are generous, you are just,” and Ruth held out her hand, which the colonel held while she continued: “See if you wish my friendship when you hear of me again. If you do, then Miss Carr can tell you of me, for she has promised to be my friend and correspond with me. Now can I go and spend an hour with that unfortunate brother of mine, over whom the shadow of the gallows hangs like a nightmare?” “Yes, I will escort you to the cabin.” When the day came around for the departure of the coach, Major Lester and his wife felt the deepest regret at having to give up their lovely guest. They had become deeply attached to her, and yet they could not urge her to remain longer, for they wished her to be far away when the day of execution came which would end the guilty career of Silk Lasso Sam and the lives of his men, sentenced to die at the same time. Both the major and his wife had observed the deep interest felt by the colonel in their guest, and had spoken of it to each other. “The colonel’s heart has been touched by the sorrow of that beautiful girl,” said Mrs. Lester, and her husband replied: “Pity begets love, it is said, and I really wish the colonel would care for her, as she is a very superior girl, and, whatever the faults of the brother, she is as pure as snow.” Of course, all in the fort had come to understand just why Ruth had come, and those who saw her had felt deepest compassion for her. That she was a lady all acknowledged, whatever Silk Lasso Sam might be. During her stay at Major Lester’s all had discreetly kept away from that officer’s home, well understanding that Miss Arden cared for no visitors, though nearly every lady in the fort left their cards “for Miss Arden,” as an appreciation of her misfortunes, and sympathy in her sorrows. Nina de Sutro had heard of the coming of this visitor to the doomed man. He had not spoken to her, during their short married life, of having a sister; in fact, he had said nothing to her of his past. Who then, she wondered, was this beautiful woman, for she did not regard her as really his sister. Not connecting her in any way with Bonnie Belle, she looked upon herself, Bonnie Belle and this stranger as three, perhaps, who held a claim upon the outlaw. She felt no jealousy of her, for she hated the prisoner too sincerely for that emotion to find lodgment in her heart; but she was anxious to know who she was, and all about her. She had been told that she was very beautiful. She would see and know for herself, for she said: “I must see and talk with that woman.”