Barbara's attitude toward Haydon would affect Harlan's attitude toward the girl. For if she loved Haydon, or trusted him enough to confide in him--or even to communicate with him concerning ordinary details, Harlan could not apprise her of the significance of his presence at the Rancho Seco. For Haydon was unknown to Harlan and Harlan was not inclined to accept Morgan's praise of him as conclusive evidence of the man's worthiness. Besides, Morgan had qualified his instructions with: "Take a look at John Haydon, an' if you think he's on the level--an' you want to drift on--turn things over to him." Harlan did not want to "drift on." Into his heart since his meeting in Lamo with Barbara--and during the ride to the Rancho Seco--had grown a decided reluctance toward "drifting." And not even the girl's scorn could have forced him to leave her at the ranch, unprotected. But he could not tell her why he could not go. Despite her protests he must remain--at least until he was able to determine the character of John Haydon. A gleam of faint mockery came into his eyes as he looked at Barbara. "I'm keepin' my promise to your dad--I'm stayin' at the Rancho Seco because he told me to stay. He wanted me to sort of look out that nothin' happened to you. I reckon we'll get along." The girl caught her breath sharply. In the growing darkness Harlan's smile seemed to hold an evil significance; it seemed to express a thought that took into consideration the loneliness of the surroundings, the fact that she was alone, and that she was helpless. More--it seemed to be a presumptuous smile, insinuating, full of dire promise. For Harlan was an outlaw--she could not forget that! He bore a reputation for evil that had made him feared wherever men congregated; and as she watched him it seemed to her that his face betrayed signs of his ruthlessness, his recklessness, and his readiness for violence of every kind. He might not have killed her father--Rogers and Lawson had acquitted him of that. But he might be lying about the promise to her father merely for the purpose of providing an excuse to come to the Rancho Seco. It seemed to her that if her father had really exacted a promise from him he would have written to her, or sent her some token to prove the genuineness of it. There was no visible evidence of Harlan's truthfulness. "Do you mean to say you are going to stay here--indefinitely?" she demanded, her voice a little hoarse from the fright that was stealing over her. He smiled at her. "You've hit it about right, ma'am." "I don't want you to stay here!" she declared, angrily. "I'm stayin', ma'am." His smile faded, and his eyes became serious--earnest. "Later on--when things shape themselves up--I'll tell you why I'm stayin'. But just now----" She shrank from him, incredulous, a growing fear plain in her eyes. And before he could finish what he intended to say she had wheeled, and was running toward the ranchhouse.