She remained silent. She had recovered both her regular breathing and her composed manner. He could only read in her features a determination that was adamant. “Will you answer a few questions?” he ventured. “Out with them!” “What caused the horse to fall?” “You gump! He fell because the bank gave way,” she replied rudely. “What became of his rider?” “I don’t know.” “Did you leave him at that spot?” She waited a moment. Then, as harshly as before: “Yes.” “You have not seen him since? Or communicated with him?” “Dick Beckworth? I should say not!” “Do you know what became of him?” A bitter, sneering smile marred her lips. “I know what Tolley says—that he’s in Denver.” “Tolley proposes to deny that now,” Hunt said softly. “Let him. One lie is as good as another, and Boss Tolley’s full of them.” “Will you help me discover if Beckworth is alive?” “I tell you once for all, I don’t want anything more to do with Dick the Devil. I don’t want to even hear about him.” “Then you and he quarreled?” The mistake was fatal, and the parson knew it the instant he had said the unwise words. But he could not recall them. “See here, Parson Hunt! you’re making a nuisance of yourself. I want to tell you that no tenderfoot will get far in Canyon Pass if he begins as you have. I’ve got nothing to tell you. I won’t talk to you. I don’t want a thing to do with you. Now! Am I plain enough?” She walked on stoutly, her head up, her cheeks aflame. For a few yards he walked quietly beside her. Then he lifted his hat and turned aside. When Nell had disappeared, Hunt sadly shook his head. “I fear,” he told himself, “that I have made a bad beginning.” Circumstances that followed proved that his suspicion was correct. In less than twenty-four hours he heard that without a doubt he had made another enemy. “I don’t know how it is, parson,” said Bill Judson shaking a mournful head, “but that little devil, Nell Blossom, is on the warpath. And she’s after your scalp.” “It is stuck on pretty tightly, Mr. Judson,” Hunt replied with a smile. “’Tain’t no laughing matter. Nell has a terrible drag with the boys. If she don’t have you run out of town, she may try to bust up your show. She says you’re a mischief-maker, and all that. She’s plumb down on parsons.” “We will have to convince her that the tribe is harmless.” “Not much chance,” said Judson, who evidently shared Hurley’s opinion of Nell’s obstinacy. “Time will cure all that,” said the parson, with more apparent confidence than he really felt. While preparations were going forward for the first meeting with satisfactory speed, Hunt heard on every hand of the gathering forces of opposition.