Stanley sat on his haunches, and regarded him unwinkingly for so long that Phoebe's nerves took a panic, and she drew Evadna away from the place. The boys edged closer, their hands resting suggestively upon their gun-butts. Old Peaceful half-raised his rifle, and held it so. It was like being compelled to watch a fuse hiss and shrivel and go black toward a keg of gun-powder. “I believe, by heck, you would!” said Stanley at last, and so long a time had elapsed that even Good Indian had to think back to know what he meant. Stanley squinted up at the sun, hitched himself up so that his back rested against the tree more comfortably, inspected his cigarette, and then fumbled for a match with which to relight it. “How'd you find out Baumberger was back uh this deal?” he asked curiously and without any personal resentment in tone or manner, and raked the match along his thigh. Good Indian's shoulders went up a little. “I knew, and that's sufficient. The dead line is down past the Point o' Rocks. After sundown this ranch is going to hold the Harts and their friends--and NO ONE ELSE. Tell that to your pals, unless you've got a grudge against them!” Stanley held his cigarette between his fingers, and blew smoke through his nostrils while he watched Good Indian turn his back and walk away. He did not easily lose his hold of himself, and this was, with him, a cold business proposition. Miss Georgie stood where she was until she saw that Stanley did not intend to shoot Good Indian in the back, as he might have done easily enough, and followed so quickly that she soon came up with him. Good Indian turned at the rustling of the skirts immediately behind him, and looked down at her somberly. Then he caught sight of something she was carrying in her hand, and he gave a short laugh. “What are you doing with that thing?” he asked peremptorily. Miss Georgie blushed very red, and slid the thing into her pocket. “Well, every little helps,” she retorted, with a miserable attempt at her old breeziness of manner. “I thought for a minute I'd have to shoot that man Stanley--when you turned your back on him.” Good Indian stopped, looked at her queerly, and went on again without saying a word. CHAPTER XXVI. “WHEN THE SUN GOES AWAY” “I wish,” said Phoebe, putting her two hands on Miss Georgie's shoulders at the gate and looking up at her with haggard eyes, “you'd see what you can do with Vadnie. The poor child's near crazy; she ain't used to seeing such things happen--” “Where is she?” Good Indian asked tersely, and was answered immediately by the sound of sobbing on the east porch. The three went together, but it was Grant who reached her first. “Don't cry, Goldilocks,” he said tenderly, bending over her. “It's all right now. There isn't going to be any more--” “Oh! Don't TOUCH me!” She sprang up and backed from him, horror plain in her wide eyes. “Make him keep away, Aunt Phoebe!”