Certainly, in spite of Sheila's remark about Dakota being a "brute," she had betrayed evidence of admiration for the man. In that case her veiled allusions to his own fear of meeting Dakota were very likely founded on something which Dakota had told her, and certainly anything which Dakota might have said about him would not be complimentary. Therefore his rage against both Sheila and his enemy was bitter when he finally rode up to the door of the latter's cabin. There was hope in his heart that Dakota might prove to be absent, and when, after calling once and receiving no answer, he dismounted and hitched Dakota's pony to a rail of the corral fence, there was a smile of satisfaction on his face. He took plenty of time to hitch the pony; he even lingered at the corral bars, leaning on them to watch several steers which were inside the enclosure. He found time, too, in spite of his fear of his enemy, to sneer over the evidences of prosperity which were on every hand. He was congratulating himself on his good fortune in reaching Dakota's cabin during a time when the latter was absent, when he heard a slight sound behind him. He turned rapidly, to see Dakota standing in the doorway of the cabin, watching him with cold, level eyes, one of his heavy six-shooters in hand. Duncan's face went slowly pale. He did not speak at once and when he did he was surprised at his hoarseness. "I've brought your cayuse back," he said finally. "So I see," returned Dakota. His eyes glinted with a cold humor, though they were still regarding Duncan with an alertness which the other could not mistake. "So I see," repeated Dakota. His slow drawl was in evidence again. "I don't recollect, though, that I sent word to have _you_ bring him back." "I wasn't tickled to death over the job," returned Duncan. Now that his first surprise was over and Dakota had betrayed no sign of resenting his visit, Duncan felt easier. There had been a slight sneer in his voice when he answered. "That isn't surprising," returned Dakota. "There never was a time when you were tickled a heap to stick your nose into my affairs." His smile froze Duncan. "I ain't looking for trouble," said the latter, with a perfect knowledge of Dakota's peculiar expression. "Then why did you come over here? I reckon there wasn't anyone else to send my horse over by?" said Dakota, his voice coming with a truculent snap. Duncan flushed. "Sheila Langford sent me," he admitted reluctantly. Dakota's eyes lighted with incredulity. "I reckon you're a liar," he said with cold emphasis. Duncan's gaze went to the pistol in Dakota's hand and his lips curled. He knew that he was perfectly safe so long as he made no hostile move, for in spite of his derogatory remarks about the man he was aware that he never used his weapons without provocation.