Nance’s breast was heaving. Great breaths dilated her lungs and whistled out again. Her hands were shut tight, the fingers on her hat brim crimping the weathered felt. She thought of her Mammy—of Bud—of their long labor and the hardships they had borne. She thought of the cabin on Nameless—of its white scrubbed floors—its homely comforts—and all it meant to them and to her. It was her Pappy’s dream of empire—it had been hers. She thought of Brand Fair and of Sonny. Of Brand and Bud who would sure start the fire to burning in all the lonely reaches at news of her disappearance—and— “I’m as good as most men,” she said, “to take care of myself. I wouldn’t sign that paper to save you and all your rustler nest from eternal damnation! And that’s my last word.” Arnold snapped his fingers. “Enough,” he said, “we’ll see what a night in Rainbow’s Pot will do for you. Basford—my compliments. I give you the beautiful lady. Properly disciplined she’ll make you a fine wife.” But Big Basford shook his unkempt head. “She’s a yellow woman,” he said contemptuously, “I don’t want her,” and his hungry eyes went helplessly toward the dark splendor of Kate Cathrew in her velvet chair. Provine surged forward, a sudden excitement in his snaky orbs. “_I_ do,” he cried, “try me!” Arnold laughed. “Good! I like an eager lover. _You_ may guard Miss Allison inside, and Basford shall take the place I had intended for you outside the Flange. We’ll talk business some more tomorrow. We bid you adieu, Miss Allison. I hope by morning you will be more amenable to reason.” Without a backward glance Nance turned and strode away between her guards. Resistance was useless, she well knew. “‘In my distress I cried unto the Lord and He heard me,’” she thought courageously. “‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help.’” “One moment,” called Arnold, still laughing, “remember that the Secret Way tells no tales—and that Provine has long wanted to go back to Texas.” The girl turned and glanced back. “The hand of God,” she said calmly, “is ever before my face. Neither you nor yours can do me harm for the Lord shall preserve me from all evil, He shall preserve my soul. And He did not make me strong for nothing,” she added “I shall leave it all to Him.” CHAPTER XIX RIDERS OF PORTENT Minnie Pine could get from one place to another more quickly and with less noise than any one at Sky Line. When Rod Stone came in at dusk she came running to him in the shadows to whisper in his ear. “The Sun Woman from the flats on Nameless,” she said, “has thrown their words back in the faces of the Master and the Boss—and they have given her to Sud to guard—in Rainbow’s Pot with Big Basford at the Flange. It’s devil’s work.” There was little or no expression on the half-breed’s placid face, but there was plenty of it in her low voice. “Good God!” said the boy, “are you sure, Minnie?”