The prisoner halted. “I don’t know that I’m so small a man as to deny the usual courtesies, since you put it that way,” continued Rance. “I always have extended them. But we’ll hear what you have to say--that’s our protection. And it might interest some of us to hear what the Girl will have to say to you, Mr. Johnson--after a week in her cabin there may be more to know than--” Fire leapt to Johnson’s eyes; he cried hoarsely-- “Stop!” “Rance, you don’t know what you’re sayin’,” resented Nick, casting hard looks at him; while Sonora put a heavy hand upon the Sheriff and threatened him with: “Now, Rance, you stop that!” “We’ll hear every word he has to say,” insisted the Sheriff, doggedly. “You bet!” affirmed Trinidad. “Nick! Nick!” called the Girl once more, and while the little barkeeper went over to admit her the Wells Fargo Agent took his leave, calling back after him: “Well, boys, you’ve got him safe--I can’t wait--I’m off!” “Dep, untie the prisoner! Boys, circle round the bar! Trin, put a man at that door! And Sonora, put a couple of men at those windows!” And so swift were the men in carrying out his instructions, that even as he spoke, everyone was at his post, the Sheriff himself and Sonora remaining unseen but on guard at the doors, while the prisoner, edging up close to the door, was not in evidence when the Girl entered. “You can think of something to tell her--lie to her,” had been the Sheriff’s parting suggestion. “I’ll let her think I risked coming back to see her again,” had replied the prisoner, his throat trembling. “She won’t know it’s for the last time--we’ll be there,” had come warningly from the Sheriff as he pointed to the door that led to the bar-room. * * * * * “Why, what have you got the door barred for?” asked the Girl as she came into the room; and then without waiting for an answer: “Why, where are the boys?” “Well, you see, the boys--the boys has--has--” began Nick confusedly and stopped. “The boys--” There was a question in the Girl’s voice. “Has gone.” “Gone where?” “Why, to the Palmetter,” came out feebly from Nick; and then with a sudden change of manner, he added: “Oh, say, Girl, I likes you!” And here he laid his hand affectionately upon her shoulder. “You’ve been my religion--the bar an’ you. Why, you don’t never want to leave us--why, I’d drop dead for you.” “Nick, you’re very nice to--” began the Girl, gratefully, and stopped, for at that instant a gentle tap came upon the door. Turning swiftly, she saw Johnson coming towards her. “Girl!” he cried in an agony of joy, and held out his arms to receive her. “You? You?” she admonished softly. “Don’t say a word,” he whispered hurriedly. “You shouldn’t have come back,” she said with knitted brow. “I had to--to say good-bye once more.” And his voice was so filled with tenderness that she readily forgave him for the indiscretion.