The stage had no sooner stopped than Walker was out, his pistol in hand, ready to show June and all her female relatives so dear that he was there to stand between them and danger as long as their peril might last. Smith looked around carefully. "Funny about them two fellers!" he muttered. From the inside of the stage came June's voice, raised in admiration of Mr. Walker's intrepidity, and her mother's voice, commanding her to be silent, and not draw down upon them the fury of the bandits, who even then might be taking aim at them from behind a rock. Nobody appearing, between whom and June he might precipitate himself, Walker mounted a rock for a look around. He had no more than reached the top when the two horsemen who had caused the flurry rode from behind the house-size boulder which had hidden them, turned their backs, crouching in their saddles as if to hide their identity, and galloped off. "Huh! Old Hun Shanklin's one of 'em," sniffed Smith, plainly disgusted that the affair had turned out so poorly. He put his weapon back in its place and took the lines. "And that feller, he don't have to go around holdin' people up with a gun in his hand," he added. "He's got a safer and surer game of it than that." "And that's no cross-eyed view of it, either," Dr. Slavens agreed. Walker came over and stood beside the near wheel. "One of them was Hun Shanklin!" said he, whispering up loudly for the doctor's ear, a look of deep concern on his youthful face. Slavens nodded with what show of unconcern he could assume. For, knowing what he knew, he wondered what the gambler was there for, and why he seemed so anxious to keep the matter of his identity to himself. When they arrived at Comanche the sun was down. Mrs. Reed hurried June indoors, all exclamations and shudders over what she believed to have been a very narrow escape. Vowing that she never would go exploring around in that wild land again, she whisked off without a word for Smith. The others shook hands with the driver, Agnes coming last. He took off his hat when it came her turn. "Keep your eyes skinned," he advised her, "and don't let 'em play you for a sucker. Any time you need advice, or any help that I can give you, if I'm not here I'm on the road between here and Meander. You can git me over there by telephone." "Thank you, Mr. Smith," said she warmly and genuinely, wondering why he should take such an unaccountable interest in her. The others had gone about their business, thinking strongly of supper, leaving Smith and her alone beside the old green stage. "But don't ask for Smith if you call me up," said he, "for that's only my first name, and they's a horse-wrangler over there with that for his last. They might think you wanted him." "Oh, I didn't know!" she stammered, all confusion over the familiarity that she had been taking all day. "I didn't know your other name--nobody ever told me."