Came a metallic br-r-r, the unmistakable war cry of the rattler. Into Kelly's eyes came a look of fear, and he sidled gingerly. The buzz had sounded unpleasantly close to his heels. For one brief instant the cold eye of his rifle regarded harmlessly the hillside. During that instant a goodly piece of sandstone whinged under his jaw, and he went down, with Keith upon him like a mountain lion. The latter snatched the rifle and got up hurriedly, for he had not forgotten the rattler. Kelly lay looking up at him in a dazed way that might have been funny at any other time. “I wondered if you were good at grasping opportunities,” said Beatrice. When he looked, there she was, sitting down on the rock, with her little, gloved hands folded in her lap, and that adorable demure look on her face; and a gleam in her eyes he knew was not scorn, though he could not rightly tell what it really did mean. Keith wondered at her vaguely, but a man can't have his mind on a dozen things at once. It was important that he keep a sharp watch on Kelly, and his eyes were searching for a gleaming, gray spotted coil which he felt to be near. “You needn't look, Mr. Cameron. There isn't any snake. It--it was I.” “You!” Keith's jaw dropped. “Look out, Mr. Cameron. It wouldn't work a second time, I'm afraid.” Keith turned back before Kelly had more than got to his elbow; plainly Kelly was not feeling well just then. He looked unhappy, and rather sick. “If you'll hand me the gun, Mr. Cameron, I think I can hold it steady while you fix the saddles. And then we'll go home. I--I don't think I really care to climb the hill.” What Keith wanted to do was to take her in his arms and kiss her till he was tired. What he did do was back toward her, and let her take the rifle quickly and deftly from his hands. She rested the gun upon her knee, and brought it to bear upon Mr. Kelly with a composure not assuring to that gentleman, and she tried to look as if she really and truly would shoot a man--and managed to look only the more kissable. “Don't squirm, Mr. Kelly. I won't bite, if I do buzz sometimes.” Kelly stared at her meditatively a minute, and said: “Well, I'll be damned!” Keith looked at her also, but he did not say anything. The way he slapped his saddle back upon Redcloud and cinched it, and saddled Rex, was a pretty exhibition of precision and speed, learned in roundup camps. Kelly watched him grimly. “I knowed you wasn't as swift as yuh knew how 't be, a while back,” he commented. “I've got this t' say fur you two: You're a little the toughest proposition I ever run up ag'inst--and I've been up ag'inst it good and plenty.” “Thanks,” Keith said cheerfully. “You'd better take Rex now and go ahead, Miss Lansell. I'll take that gun and look after this fellow. Get up, Kelly.” “What are you going to do with him?” Kelly got unsteadily upon his feet. Beatrice looked at him, and then at Keith. She asked a question.