“Yes, 'indeed.'” He mimicked her tone. “I want you. I want you! I wanted you long before I ever saw you. And so I'm not taking any chances--I didn't dare, you see. I just had to take you first, and ask you afterward.” Beatrice laughed a little, with tears very close to her lashes, and gave up. What was the use of trying to resist this masterful fellow, who would not even give her a chance to refuse him? She did not know quite how to say no to a man who did not ask her to say yes. But the queer part, to her, was the feeling that she would have hated to say no, anyway. It never occurred to her, till afterward, that she might have stood upon a pedestal of offended dignity and cried, “Unhand me, villain!”--and that, if she had, Keith would undoubtedly have complied instantly. As it was, she just laughed softly, and blushed a good deal. “I believe mama is right about you, after all,” she said wickedly. “At heart, you're a bold highwayman.” “Maybe. I know I'd not stand and see some other fellow walk off with my Heart's Desire, without putting up a fight. It did look pretty blue for me, though, and I was afraid--but it's all right now, isn't it? Possession is nine points in law, they say, and I've got you now! I'm going to keep you, too. When are you going to come over and take charge of the Cross ranch?” “Dear me!” said Beatrice, snuggling against his shoulder, and finding it the best place in the world to be. “I never said I was going to take charge at all!” Then the impulse of confession seized her. “Will you hate me, if I tell you something?” “I expect I will,” Keith assented, his eyes positively idolatrous. “What is it, girlie?” “Well, I--it was Dick's fault; I never would have thought of such a thing if he hadn't goaded me into it--but--well, I was going to make you propose, on a wager--” The brown head of Beatrice went down out of sight, on his arm. “I was going to refuse you--and get Rex--” “I know.” Keith held her closer than ever. “Dick rode over and told me that day. And I wasn't going to give you a chance, missy. If you hadn't started to cry, here-- Oh! what's the use? You didn't refuse me--and you're not going to, either, are you, girlie?” Beatrice intimated that there was no immediate danger of such a thing happening.