“Wal, there's Dale an' Las Vegas an' me fer Beasley to reckon with. An', Miss Nell, his chances fer long life are as pore as his chances fer heaven!” “But, Roy, I don't believe in deliberate taking of life,” replied Helen, shuddering. “That's against my religion. I won't allow it.... And--then--think, Dale, all of you--in danger!” “Girl, how 're you ever goin' to help yourself? Shore you might hold Dale back, if you love him, an' swear you won't give yourself to him.... An' I reckon I'd respect your religion, if you was goin' to suffer through me.... But not Dale nor you--nor Bo--nor love or heaven or hell can ever stop thet cowboy Las Vegas!” “Oh, if Dale brings Bo back to me--what will I care for my ranch?” murmured Helen. “Reckon you'll only begin to care when thet happens. Your big hunter has got to be put to work,” replied Roy, with his keen smile. Before noon that day the baggage Helen had packed at home was left on the porch of Widow Cass's cottage, and Helen's anxious need of the hour was satisfied. She was made comfortable in the old woman's one spare room, and she set herself the task of fortitude and endurance. To her surprise, many of Mrs. Cass's neighbors came unobtrusively to the back door of the little cottage and made sympathetic inquiries. They appeared a subdued and apprehensive group, and whispered to one another as they left. Helen gathered from their visits a conviction that the wives of the men dominated by Beasley believed no good could come of this high-handed taking over of the ranch. Indeed, Helen found at the end of the day that a strength had been borne of her misfortune. The next day Roy informed her that his brother John had come down the preceding night with the news of Beasley's descent upon the ranch. Not a shot had been fired, and the only damage done was that of the burning of a hay-filled barn. This had been set on fire to attract Helen's men to one spot, where Beasley had ridden down upon them with three times their number. He had boldly ordered them off the land, unless they wanted to acknowledge him boss and remain there in his service. The three Beemans had stayed, having planned that just in this event they might be valuable to Helen's interests. Beasley had ridden down into Pine the same as upon any other day. Roy reported also news which had come in that morning, how Beasley's crowd had celebrated late the night before. The second and third and fourth days endlessly wore away, and Helen believed they had made her old. At night she lay awake most of the time, thinking and praying, but during the afternoon she got some sleep. She could think of nothing and talk of nothing except her sister, and Dale's chances of saving her. “Well, shore you pay Dale a pore compliment,” finally protested the patient Roy. “I tell you--Milt Dale can do anythin' he wants to do in the woods. You can believe thet. ... But I reckon he'll run chances after he comes back.”