That night Duane was not troubled by ghosts haunting his waking and sleeping hours. He awoke feeling bright and eager, and grateful to Euchre for having put something worth while into his mind. During breakfast, however, he was unusually thoughtful, working over the idea of how much or how little he would confide in the outlaw. He was aware of Euchre's scrutiny. “Wal,” began the old man, at last, “how'd you make out with the kid?” “Kid?” inquired Duane, tentatively. “Jennie, I mean. What'd you An' she talk about?” “We had a little chat. You know you wanted me to cheer her up.” Euchre sat with coffee-cup poised and narrow eyes studying Duane. “Reckon you cheered her, all right. What I'm afeared of is mebbe you done the job too well.” “How so?” “Wal, when I went in to Jen last night I thought she was half crazy. She was burstin' with excitement, an' the look in her eyes hurt me. She wouldn't tell me a darn word you said. But she hung onto my hands, an' showed every way without speakin' how she wanted to thank me fer bringin' you over. Buck, it was plain to me thet you'd either gone the limit or else you'd been kinder prodigal of cheer an' hope. I'd hate to think you'd led Jennie to hope more'n ever would come true.” Euchre paused, and, as there seemed no reply forthcoming, he went on: “Buck, I've seen some outlaws whose word was good. Mine is. You can trust me. I trusted you, didn't I, takin' you over there an' puttin' you wise to my tryin' to help thet poor kid?” Thus enjoined by Euchre, Duane began to tell the conversations with Jennie and Mrs. Bland word for word. Long before he had reached an end Euchre set down the coffee-cup and began to stare, and at the conclusion of the story his face lost some of its red color and beads of sweat stood out thickly on his brow. “Wal, if thet doesn't floor me!” he ejaculated, blinking at Duane. “Young man, I figgered you was some swift, an' sure to make your mark on this river; but I reckon I missed your real caliber. So thet's what it means to be a man! I guess I'd forgot. Wal, I'm old, an' even if my heart was in the right place I never was built fer big stunts. Do you know what it'll take to do all you promised Jen?” “I haven't any idea,” replied Duane, gravely. “You'll have to pull the wool over Kate Bland's eyes, ant even if she falls in love with you, which's shore likely, thet won't be easy. An' she'd kill you in a minnit, Buck, if she ever got wise. You ain't mistaken her none, are you?” “Not me, Euchre. She's a woman. I'd fear her more than any man.” “Wal, you'll have to kill Bland an' Chess Alloway an' Rugg, an' mebbe some others, before you can ride off into the hills with thet girl.” “Why? Can't we plan to be nice to Mrs. Bland and then at an opportune time sneak off without any gun-play?”