“He’d be wanting to know why,” she objected. “What if he does? I’ll tell him why.” “Tell him that you’re trying to help a poor girl back to her feet?--and you wanting to marry his daughter?” “Who told you I wanted to marry his daughter?” “There’s little goes on in the camps that we don’t hear in Powder Can. There’s never a man of yours to come over here without having his say about you and the daughter of the man you’d be working for. ’Tis well I know it was Vinnie Grillage you were telling me about that night at home when you were leaving. I’d not be messing up your life and hers, Davie.” He forced a sour smile. “My part of it is already messed up. Vinnie has been good to me--chiefly because we were kiddies together, long before I knew you, Judith. But that’s all there is to it. There are two other entries now, and I’m out of the race. Does that make it any easier for you to think of my plan?” “It does not!” she flashed out, almost vindictively, he thought. Since there seemed to be nothing more to be said, he got upon his feet, scarcely realizing that the girl stooped and put her arms around him and half lifted him. For a few seconds the dimly lighted interior of the ore shed spun around in dizzying circles, and the bullet bruise throbbed like a whirlwind of hammer blows. But he found he could breathe better standing. “I must get back to camp,” he said. “Have you any idea what time it is?” “’Tis early yet.” Then, anxiously: “You couldn’t be walking all that way, Davie!” “Yes, I can; I’ll be all right in a few minutes more. Can you show me the way out of this place? I don’t want to go through the town unless I have to.” She did not show him; she led him, with a strong arm under his to steady him. At the wagon gate at the rear of the ore yard he would have sent her home, but she would not go. “’Tis not fit you are to be going alone,” she said; and in spite of his urgings she went on with him, choosing a path that skirted the shoulder of the hill and left the town to the right. In sober silence they walked on until half of the distance between Powder Can and the construction camp lay behind them. Then David Vallory made his urgings mandatory. “You must go back,” he insisted. “I’m quite all right, now. If Dargin should hear of this----” “What is it Jack Dargin can do to you?” she interrupted shortly. “It is something about the work; something that he knows. If he should tell Lushing----” She interrupted again. “What has Jack got against you that would make him be giving you away to Jim Lushing?” “I told you a little while ago. I’m trying to wipe him and his man-traps off the map, and he doubtless knows it.” “Jack Dargin would only be respecting you the more for that. Sure, it’s himself that knows how bad Powder Camp would be needing a cleaning up.” “But, good heavens, girl! Dargin is the head and front of the lawlessness himself!”