“Well, I reckon you’re dog tired. It’s easy to sleep out here. An’ that gun I give you will scare away most anything that walks or crawls. Ain’t nothin’ to be afeerd of, anyhow. In case anything should happen, you----” “I’m not asking him for any favors!” He suppressed a grin and continued as if there had been no interruption. “In a few days I’ll bring you a collie dog an’ a hoss. Then you’ll be fixed. Meanwhile you just set tight an’ git organized. I’ll see Hazen an’ the land office. G’night.” He drove away, bent for the pines and Burnt Creek. But if he thought to avoid Jim Hunter, he was mistaken. The young man was camped outside the house and Bud saw him move through the dark toward the buggy. The storekeeper sighed a little and came to a halt. “All right,” he acquiesced wearily. “Go on now an’ say what’s been burnin’ you.” “Of all the old fools!” rasped out Jim Hunter. “You know very well she can’t stay out here! It’s impossible. What can a woman do? Here I work my head off and just break even. How do you expect her to get by? Just because she’s bent on----” “What should I have done?” asked Bud gently. “Told her to go home, of course. Discourage her from such a crazy idea.” “Huh. No wonder you’n she quarreled. Don’t you s’pose I did some arguin’? Huh; it was like talkin’ to myself. If I hadn’t brought her she’d up an’ walked out on the darn desert by herself. Got to handle her another way. She’s as stubborn as you.” Hunter groaned. “I know it. She’s always been like that. If she gets her mind set, nothing short of an act of God can change it. But she can’t stay!” “I wouldn’t be so durned certain,” snapped out Bud. The late hour and the prior excitement had put him a little out of humor. “She seems plumb able to take care of herself. I’ve seen women get by on this desert. She can beat a man all hollow fer endurin’ things.” “It’s not only that,” broke in Hunter. “It’s not safe. All sorts of queer ducks roam these places. A lone woman just invites trouble. There’s ‘Bottle-nose’ Henderson, for example. Great Scott----” Bud scratched his stubbled chin. He, too, had thought of Bottle-nose. It was a prickling thought that remained in the rear of his head, vaguely disturbing. Yet here was Jim within a short distance of her. If she called for help, he’d be over in a jiffy. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. G’ap, Toby. You people fight it out atween you.” “There’s not going to be any fight--or anything else!” bellowed Jim.