"It is my business when Ned follows you into robbery." "Maybe I followed him," he jeered. She bit back the tart answer on her tongue. What was the use of quarreling? It used to be that they were good friends, but of late they jangled whenever they met. Ever since the Western Express affair she had held a grudge at him. Six months ago she had almost promised to marry him. Now nothing was farther from her thoughts. But he was still very much of the mind that she should. "What's the matter with you, Boots?" he wanted to know roughly. "You used to have some sense. You weren't always flying out at a fellow. Now there's no way of pleasing you." "I suppose it is odd that I don't want my friends to be thieves," she flung out bitterly. "Don't use that word if you mean me," he ordered. "What word shall I substitute?" He barely suppressed an oath. "I know what's ailing you? We're not smooth enough up here for you. We're not educated up to your standard. If I'd been to Cornell, say--" "Take care," she warned with a flash of anger in her black eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Why should I cull my words so careful? I notice yours ain't hand-picked. Ever since this guy Beaudry came spying into the park, you've had no use for me. You have been throwing yourself at his head and couldn't see any one else." She gasped. "How dare you, Brad Charlton?" His jealousy swept away the prudence that had dammed his anger. "Didn't you take him out driving? Didn't you spend a night alone with him and Dave Dingwell? Didn't you hot-foot it down to Hart's because you was afraid yore precious spy would meet up with what he deserved?" Beulah drew up Blacky abruptly. "Now you can leave me. Don't stop to say good-bye. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again." He had gone too far and he knew it. Sulkily he began to make his apology. "You know how fond I am of you, Boots. You know--" "Yes, I ought to. I've heard it often enough," she interrupted curtly. "That's probably why you insult me?" Her gypsy eyes stabbed him. She was furiously angry. He attempted to explain. "Now, listen here, Beulah. Let's be reasonable." "Are you going up or down?" she demanded. "I'm going the other way. Take one road or the other, you--you scandalmonger." Never a patient man, he too gave rein to his anger. "Since you want to know, I'm going down--to Battle Butte, where I'll likely meet yore friend Beaudry and settle an account or two with him. I reckon before I git through with him he'll yell something besides Cornell." The girl laughed scornfully. "Last time I saw him he had just beaten a dozen or so of you. How many friends are you going to take along this trip?"