With this he turns away, but Erma is after him, and puts her hand on his arm, whispering, "How bravely you saved him! I have learned the truth about you. Forgive me!" But the man she addresses is apparently not easy to conciliate, and he remarks curtly, "You did not give me the right even a Vigilance Committee would give!" "What right?" "The right to defend myself!" And he heeds not Erma's pleading eyes. Then she whispers, "Give me the justice I denied you. Let me explain also. How was I, a girl brought up in a land of peace, to know that men could exist like that one from whom you saved Ferdie just now; that to protect the innocent it was necessary to slay the guilty, and _right_, too?" and then bursts forth impetuously, "_Wretches like that murderer I saw out there I would kill also!_" But the young man does not seem to heed her; and muttering, "You don't forgive me any more than you did the murderers," she falters away and says piteously, "And I--alone here!" And there are tears in her beautiful eyes; for at this moment Ferdie seems very little of a protector. This last affects Lawrence. He steps to her, ejaculating huskily, "Not as long as I am here!" "Oh, thank you," cries the girl. "You will take care of me. How nice!" her smiles overcoming her tears. "Certainly. That is my duty," answers Harry, still coldly, for he has been very deeply wounded. "I don't want your duty!" answers Erma hotly. "What do you want?" "Forgiveness! Don't punish me with kindness, and still be implacable. Forgive me," pleads the young lady, her little hand held out towards her judge. Then Miss Travenion gives a startled little "Ough!" for her fingers receive a grip that makes her wince, and as their hands meet, piquant gaiety comes over the young lady, and the gentleman begins to smile, and his eyes grow sunny. A second after he says, "If I am responsible for you, I must look after you. You must have dinner, and so must Ferdie," and he calls cheerily to the youth, who has been brushing the sawdust of barroom floor and the dirt of combat from his light travelling suit. "You are up to a bite, young bantam, ain't you, after your scrimmage?" "Yes, I'm dead hungry," answers Mr. Chauncey. "But Erma, your French maid is in the waiting-room, crying her eyes out. She says my aunt left her with your hand-baggage." "Clothes!" screams Miss Travenion. "There's a new dress in my travelling bag! Oh! to get rid of the dust of travel," and growing very happy at this find--as what woman would not?--she and Lawrence walk across the tracks to the railroad hotel, followed by the maid and Ferdie, who brings up the rear, stopping at every other step to examine his summer suit for rent of combat, and to give it another brush from barroom dirt, and shortly arrive at the hostelry that lies between the tracks of the Union and Central Pacific Railways.