He stood, hesitating. His impulse was to turn and fly, but he could not quite make up his mind to leave her alone with Houck. The cowman swung toward the girl. "Keep back!" she ordered. Her spurt of defiance tickled him immensely. He went directly to her, his stride unfaltering. "Want to shoot up poor Jake, do you? An' you an' him all set for a honeymoon. Well, go to it, June. You can't miss now." He stood a yard or so from her, easy and undisturbed, laughing in genuine enjoyment. He liked the child's pluck. The situation, with its salty tang of danger, was wholly to his taste. But he had disarmed the edge of June's anger and apprehension. His amusement was too real. It carried the scene from tragedy to farce. June's outburst had not been entirely for the sake of Bob. Back of the immediate cause was the desire to break away from this man's dominance. She had rebelled in the hope of establishing her individual freedom. Now she knew this was vain. What was the use of opposing one who laughed at her heroics and ignored the peril of his position? There was not any way to beat him. She pushed the six-shooter back into its holster and cried out at him bitterly. "I think you're the devil or one of his fiends." "An' I think you're an angel--sometimes," he mocked. "I hate you!" she said, and two rows of strong little white teeth snapped tight. "Sho! Tha's just a notion you got. You like me fine, if you only knew it, girl." She was still shaken with the emotion through which she had passed. "You never were nearer death, Jake Houck, than right now a minute ago." His back to Dillon, the cowman gave a curt command. "Hit the trail, boy--sudden." Bob looked at June, whose sullen eyes were fighting those of her father's guest. She had forgotten he was there. Without a word Bob vanished. "So you love me well enough to shoot me, do you?" Houck jeered. "I wish I could!" she cried furiously. "But you can't. You had yore chance, an' you couldn't. What you need is a master, some one you'll have to honor an' obey, some one who'll look after you an' take the devil outa you. Meanin' me--Jake Houck. Understand?" "I won't! I won't!" she cried. "You come here an' bully me because--because of what you know about Father. If you were half a man--if you were white, you wouldn't try to use that against me like you do." "I'm using it for you. Why, you li'l' spitfire, can't you see as Jake Houck's wife you get a chance to live? You'll have clothes an' shoes an' pretties like other folks instead o' them rags you wear now. I aim to be good to you, June." "You _say_ that. Don't I know you? I'd 'most rather be dead than married to you. But you keep pesterin' me. I--I--" Her voice broke. "If you don' know what's best for you, I do. To-morrow I got to go to Meeker. I'll be back Thursday. We'll ride over to Bear Cat Friday an' be married. Tha's how we'll fix it."