"_You_ can ask that." Her indignation gathered and broke. "Because you are what you are. Because I know what you told Jim Yeager this afternoon. Why don't you go?" "What did I tell Yeager? About the knife, you mean?" "You tried to lay it on Phil to save yourself." "Did Yeager tell you that?" "No, but I know it," She pushed him toward the door. "Go, while there is still a chance." "I'm not going--not yet. Not till you promise to ask Yeager what I said." A footstep sounded, and the door opened. The intruder stopped, his hand still on the handle, aware that there were others in the room. "Who is it?" Phyllis breathed, stricken almost dumb with terror. "It's Slim. Hope I ain't buttin' in, Phyllie." Unconsciously he had given her the cue she needed. "Well, you are." She laughed nervously, as might a lover caught unexpectedly. "It's--it's Phil," she pretended to pretend. "Oh, it's Phil." Slim laughed in kindly derision, and declared before he went out: "I expect you would spell his name B-r-i-double l. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding, Phyllie. Meanwhile I'll be mum as a clam till you say the word." With which he jingled away. The door was scarce closed before the girl turned on Keller. "There! You see. They may catch you any moment." "Will you ask Yeager?" "Yes, if you'll go." "All right. I'll go." Still he did not leave. The magic of this slim girl had swept him from his feet. In imagination he still felt the touch of her warm fingers, soft as a caress, the thrill of her hair as it had brushed his cheek when she had stooped over him. The drag of sex was upon him and had set him trembling strangely. "Why don't you go?" she cried softly. He snatched himself away. But before he had reached the door he came back in two strides. Startled and unnerved, she waited on him. He caught both her hands in his, and opened them wide so that she was drawn toward him by the swing of the motion. There for an instant he stood, looking down into her eyes by the faint light that sifted through the window upon her. "What--what do you want?" she demanded tremulously, emotion flooding her in waves. "Why are you saving me, girl?" "I--don't know. I've told you why." "I'm a villain, by your way of it, yet you save my life even while you think me a skunk. I can't thank you. What's the use of trying?" He looked down into her eyes, and that gaze did more than thank her. It told her he would never forget and never let her forget. How it happened she could not afterward remember, but she found herself in his arms, his kiss tingling through her blood like wine. She thrust him from her--and he was gone.