“How did you know she's my sister?” “I reckon she looks like you.” “No one else ever thought so,” replied Helen, trying to smile. Bo had no difficulty in smiling, as she said, “Wish I was half as pretty as Nell.” “Nell. Isn't your name Helen?” queried Dale. “Yes. But my--some few call me Nell.” “I like Nell better than Helen. An' what's yours?” went on Dale, looking at Bo. “Mine's Bo. Just plain B-o. Isn't it silly? But I wasn't asked when they gave it to me,” she replied. “Bo. It's nice an' short. Never heard it before. But I haven't met many people for years.” “Oh! we've left the town!” cried Bo. “Look, Nell! How bare! It's just like desert.” “It is desert. We've forty miles of that before we come to a hill or a tree.” Helen glanced out. A flat, dull-green expanse waved away from the road on and on to a bright, dark horizon-line, where the sun was setting rayless in a clear sky. Open, desolate, and lonely, the scene gave her a cold thrill. “Did your uncle Al ever write anythin' about a man named Beasley?” asked Dale. “Indeed he did,” replied Helen, with a start of surprise. “Beasley! That name is familiar to us--and detestable. My uncle complained of this man for years. Then he grew bitter--accused Beasley. But the last year or so not a word!” “Well, now,” began the hunter, earnestly, “let's get the bad news over. I'm sorry you must be worried. But you must learn to take the West as it is. There's good an' bad, maybe more bad. That's because the country's young.... So to come right out with it--this Beasley hired a gang of outlaws to meet the stage you was goin' in to Snowdrop--to-morrow--an' to make off with you.” “Make off with me?” ejaculated Helen, bewildered. “Kidnap you! Which, in that gang, would be worse than killing you!” declared Dale, grimly, and he closed a huge fist on his knee. Helen was utterly astounded. “How hor-rible!” she gasped out. “Make off with me!... What in Heaven's name for?” Bo gave vent to a fierce little utterance.