He remembered his part in the nick of time as they came closer, and David helped the girl down from the saddle and brought her forward. The gambler drew himself up and made his face grave with disapproval. Now or never he must prove to David that there was no shadow of a connection between him and the girl. Yet he was by no means easy. There was something forced and stereotyped in the smile of the girl that told him she had been through a crucial test and was still near the breaking point. David presented them to one another uneasily. He was even a little embarrassed under the accusing eye of Connor. "I make you known, Ruth," he said, "to my brother Benjamin. He is that man of whom I told you." "I am happy," said the girl, "to be known to him." "That much I cannot say," replied the gambler. He turned upon David with outstretched arm. "Ah, David, I have warned you!" "As Abraham warned me against you, Benjamin. And dying men speak truth." The counter-attack was so shrewd, so unexpected, that the gambler, for the moment, was thrown completely off his guard. He could only murmur: "You are the judge for yourself, David." "I am. Do not think that the power is in me. But God loves the Garden and His voice is never far from me. Neither are the spirits of the four who lived here before me and made this place. When there is danger they warn me. When I am in error the voice of God corrects me. And just as I heard the voice against the woman, Ruth, and heed it not." He seemed to have gathered conviction for himself, much needed conviction, as he spoke. He turned now toward the girl. "Be not wroth with Benjamin; and bear him no malice." "I bear him none in the world," she answered truthfully, and held out her hand. But Connor was still in his role. He folded his arms and pointedly disregarded the advance. "Woman, let there be peace and few words between us. My will is the will of David." "There speaks my brother!" cried the master of the valley. "And yet," muttered Connor, "why is she here?" "She came to buy a horse." "But they are not sold." "That is true. Yet she has traveled far and she is in great need of food and drink. Could I turn her away hungry, Benjamin?" "She could have been fed at the gate. She could surely have rested there." It was easy to see that David was hardpressed. His eye roved eagerly to Ruth. Then a triumphant explanation sparkled in his eye. "It is the horse she rides, a gelding from my Garden. His lot in the world has been hard. He is scarred with the spur and the whip. I have determined to take him back, at a price. But who can arrange matters of buying and selling all in a moment? It is a matter for much talk. Therefore she is here." "I am answered," said Connor, and turning to Ruth he winked broadly.