Flora Schuyler made a half-impatient gesture, and then, sweeping her dress aside, made room for Christopher Allonby. She also succeeded so well with him that when the guests had departed and the girls came out into the corral where he was pacing up and down, he flung his cigar away and forsook his duty to join them. It was a long ride to Cedar Range, and Torrance had decided to stay with Allonby until morning. "It was very hot inside--they would put so much wood in the stove," said Hetty. "Besides, Flo's fond of the moonlight." "Well," said Allonby, "it's quite nice out here, and I guess Miss Schuyler ought to like the moonlight. It's kind to her." Flora Schuyler laughed as they walked past the end of the great wooden stable together. "If you look at it in one sense, that wasn't pretty. You are guarding the prisoner?" "Yes," said the lad, with evident diffidence. "The boys who brought him here had 'bout enough of him, and they're resting, while ours are out on the range. I'm here for two hours any way. It's not quite pleasant to remember I'm watching Larry." "Of course!" and Miss Schuyler nodded sympathetically. "Now, couldn't you just let us talk to him? The boys have cut his forehead, and Hetty wanted to bring him some balsam. I believe he used to be kind to her." Allonby looked doubtful, but Miss Schuyler glanced at him appealingly--and she knew how to use her eyes--while Hetty said: "Now, don't be foolish, Chris. Of course, we had just to ask your uncle, but he would have wanted to come with us and would have asked so many questions, while we knew you would tell nobody anything. You know I can't help being sorry for Larry, and he has done quite a few nice things for you, too." "Miss Schuyler is going with you?" "Of course," and Hetty smiled mischievously as she glanced at her companion. "Still, you needn't be jealous, Chris. I'll take the best care she doesn't make love to him." Flora Schuyler looked away across the prairie, which was not quite what one would have expected from a young woman of her capacities; but the laughing answer served to banish the lad's suspicions, and he walked with them towards the door. Then he stopped, and when he drew a key from an inner pocket Hetty saw something twinkle in the moonlight at his belt. "Chris," she said, "stand still for a minute and shut your eyes quite tight." The lad did as he was bidden, for a few years ago he had been the complaisant victim of Hetty's pleasantries, and felt a light touch on his lips. Then, there was a pluck at his belt, and Hetty was several yards away when he made a step forward with his eyes wide open. She was laughing at him, but there was a pistol in her hand.