The man pushed the boy away roughly. Kneeling, Dalhart caught the girl in his arms, uttering impetuous words. What he saw filled Cinquo with shame and horror. This man had touched the divinity of Del Sol! He was holding her in his arms! He was going to kiss her! Sacrilege! Cinquo saw flame points. He sprang forward, his long revolver in his hand. “Say, you! You let go of her, mister! Stop now, or I’ll stop you for shore!” The boy was blubbering in his excitement, but as Dalhart turned he saw that the aim of the weapon was true. Taisie beat at him with her hands, weakly, pushing him away. “I’ll wring your neck!” began Dalhart, starting toward the boy. Only the girl’s voice saved them one or both. “No! No!” she called. “He means well! Cinquo, come here!” Dalhart turned to her almost savagely. “You promised me!” he said. “You gave me your word down there! Is this how you keep your promise?” But between the two of them, the girl with her tears and the boy with his revolver, Cal Dalhart got on very ill with his wooing. “I can wait,” said he slowly at last. In his sobbing excitement the boy was dangerous as a rattlesnake, and Dalhart was wise enough to know it. Only one voice could calm him. Taisie spoke with decision. “Throw down your gun, Cinquo! Drop it, I tell you!” Cinquo obeyed. His tears came freely now. He trembled. “Trouble with me is, ma’am,” said he, “I got chills and fever. To-day I got ’em both. I been up all night. I don’t give a damn for that man, but this here is awful hard for you.” “Cinquo,” said Taisie, putting her hand on his grimy shirt sleeve as she drew him beside her, “you are as good a man as I’ve got. Listen now! I’m not hurt. I just ran into a tree in the dark and got knocked out of the saddle. For a long time I didn’t know anything—my head’s bruised; but I was going to get up and ride right soon. Now go and find the horses; they’re not far. I saw the bell mare just below.” The boy, shivering in his saddle, racked by the native ague, went off dully about his duties. He cast an eye over his shoulder, saw Dalhart riding close to the side of the mistress of Del Sol. “The trouble with you is,” broke out Dalhart moodily, “you don’t know how a man can love you—you don’t know how I love you!” He reached out a hand to touch the bridle of her saddle horse, which flung its head impatiently. “I think I do,” said Taisie slowly. “You love me like a man. They’re all alike.” “I believe you do love that damned Gonzales renegade. He’s gone again, and he may come back, or he may not. What you need is a man to take care of you; some one better than that cold-blooded killer that ain’t got a heart for either man or woman!” “Stop! I tell you I want to hear no more of this!” The girl’s voice had in it a quiet fury. “At least I never have heard that man say a word against you or any one else. If he’s a killer he’d face his man, I’m sure of that, and not curse him behind his back.”