Dale to do it would be a calamity--a terrible thing. Helen did not analyze that strange thought. She was as afraid of it as she was of the stir in her blood when she visualized Dale. Her meditation was interrupted by Bo, who entered the room, rebellious-eyed and very lofty. Her manner changed, which apparently owed its cause to the fact that Helen was alone. “Is that--cowboy gone?” she asked. “Yes. He left quite some time ago,” replied Helen. “I wondered if he made your eyes shine--your color burn so. Nell, you're just beautiful.” “Is my face burning?” asked Helen, with a little laugh. “So it is. Well, Bo, you've no cause for jealousy. Las Vegas can't be blamed for my blushes.” “Jealous! Me? Of that wild-eyed, soft-voiced, two-faced cow-puncher? I guess not, Nell Rayner. What 'd he say about me?” “Bo, he said a lot,” replied Helen, reflectively. “I'll tell you presently. First I want to ask you--has Carmichael ever told you how he's helped me?” “No! When I see him--which hasn't been often lately--he--I--Well, we fight. Nell, has he helped you?” Helen smiled in faint amusement. She was going to be sincere, but she meant to keep her word to the cowboy. The fact was that reflection had acquainted her with her indebtedness to Carmichael. “Bo, you've been so wild to ride half-broken mustangs--and carry on with cowboys--and read--and sew--and keep your secrets that you've had no time for your sister or her troubles.” “Nell!” burst out Bo, in amaze and pain. She flew to Helen and seized her hands. “What 're you saying?” “It's all true,” replied Helen, thrilling and softening. This sweet sister, once aroused, would be hard to resist. Helen imagined she should hold to her tone of reproach and severity. “Sure it's true,” cried Bo, fiercely. “But what's my fooling got to do with the--the rest you said? Nell, are you keeping things from me?” “My dear, I never get any encouragement to tell you my troubles.” “But I've--I've nursed uncle--sat up with him--just the same as you,” said Bo, with quivering lips. “Yes, you've been good to him.” “We've no other troubles, have we, Nell?” “You haven't, but I have,” responded Helen, reproachfully. “Why--why didn't you tell me?” cried Bo, passionately. “What are they? Tell me now. You must think me a--a selfish, hateful cat.”