"There you go--reducing everything to terms of business! Can't you see the romance of it--what it stands for? The wild free life of the plains, the daily battling with the elements, and the mastery of nerve and skill over blind brute force and fury! I love it! And tonight I'm going to a real cowboy dance." "Alice!" The word carried a note of grave disapproval. "Surely you were not serious about attending that orgy!" The girl stared at him in surprise. "Serious! Of course I'm serious! When will I ever get another chance to attend a cowboy dance--and with a real cowboy, too?" "The whole thing is preposterous! Perfectly absurd! If you are bound to attend that affair I will take you there, and we can look on and----" "I don't want to look on. I want to dance--to be in it all. It will be an experience I'll never forget." The man nodded: "And one you may never cease to regret. What do you know of that man? Of his character; of his antecedents? He may be the veriest desperado for all you know." The girl clapped her hands in mock delight: "Oh, wouldn't that be grand! I hadn't thought of that. To attend a dance with just a plain cowboy doesn't fall to every girl's lot, but one who is a cowboy and a desperado, too!" She rolled her eyes to express the seventh heavendom of delight. Endicott ignored the mockery. "I am sure neither your mother nor your father----" "No, neither of them would approve, of course. But really, Winthrop, I'm way past the short petticoat stage--though the way they're making them now nobody would guess it. I know it's improper and unconventional and that it isn't done east of the Mississippi nor west of the Rocky Mountains. But when in Rome do as the roamers do, as someone has said. And as for Mr. Purdy," she paused and looked Endicott squarely in the eyes. "Do you know why he didn't shoot that disgusting Tex when he insulted him?" Endicott nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Because he was afraid to." Colour suffused the girl's face and she arose abruptly from the table. "At least," she said haughtily, "you and Wolf River are thoroughly in accord on _that_ point." As the man watched her disappear through the doorway he became aware that the fat woman who had sought refuge under the coach was staring at him through her lorgnette from her seat across the aisle. "Young man, I believe you insulted that girl!" she wheezed indignantly. "You should be a detective, madam. Not even a great one could be farther from the truth," he replied dryly, and rising, passed into the smoking compartment of his Pullman where he consumed innumerable cigarettes as he stared out into the gathering night.