“I’m sure enough. And, anyhow, that’s a poor cold sort of philosophy. I want to be where _you_ are.” The slim, straight figure, the dusky, gallant little head, the eyes so luminous and quick, reproached with their eagerness his prudent caution. She offered him the greatest gift in the world, and he hung back with _ifs_ and _buts_. There was in him something that held at bay what he wanted more than anything else on earth. He could not brush aside hesitations with her magnificent scorn. He had lost the right to do it. His generosity would be at her expense. “If you knew, dear, how much I want you. If you knew! But I’ve got to think of you, to protect you from myself. Oh, Betty, why didn’t I meet you two years ago?” His voice was poignant as a wail. “You didn’t. But you’ve met me now. If you really want me--well, here I am.” “Yes, you’re there, the sweetest girl ever God made--and I’m here a thousand miles away from you.” “Not unless you think so, Tug,” she answered softly, her dusky eyes inviting him. “You’ve made me love you. What are you going to do with me?” “I’m going to see you get the squarest deal I can give you, no matter what it costs.” “Costs you or me?” The sound in his throat was almost a groan. “Dear heart, I’m torn in two,” he told her. “Don’t be, Tug.” Her tender eyes and wistfully smiling lips were very close to him. “It’s all right. I’m just as _sure_.” He shook his head. “I’ve got to play the game,” he said miserably. Betty talked, pleaded, argued with him, but his point of view remained unchanged. A reaction of irritation swept her. It was in part offended modesty. She had offered herself, repeatedly, and he would not have her. How did she know that he was giving the true reason? It might be only a tactful way of getting rid of her. “Play it then,” she replied curtly, and she walked out of the room without another look at him. He was astounded, shocked. He had been to blame, of course, in ever letting his love leap out and surprise them. Probably he had not made clear to her the obligation that bound him not to let her tie up her life with his. He must see her at once and make her understand. But this he could not do. A note dispatched by Ruth brought back the verbal message that she was busy. At supper Betty did not appear. The specious plea was that she had a headache. Nor was she at breakfast. From Bridget he gathered that she had gone to the Quarter Circle D E and would stay there several days. “Lookin’ after some fencing,” the housekeeper explained. “That gir-rl’s a wonder if iver there was one.” Tug agreed to that, but it was in his mind that the fencing would have had to wait if affairs had not come to a crisis between him and Betty. He had no intention of keeping her from her home. Over the telephone he made arrangements to stay at the Wild Horse House. Clint, perplexed and a little disturbed in mind, drove him to town.