She flushed a little, there was such a curious yearning in the eyes of the big man. "If you wish it," he said simply, "I will do what I can." As he walked beside her towards her horse, she turned to him abruptly. "You are very different from the men I have met around here," she said. "I am glad," he answered. "Glad?" "If you find me different, you will remember me, whether for better or worse." He spoke so earnestly that she grew grave. He helped her to the saddle and she leaned a little to study him with the same gentle gravity. "I should like to see you again, Mr. Lee," she said, and then in a little outburst, "I should like to see you a _lot!_ Will you come to my house sometime?" The directness, the sudden smile, made him flinch. His voice was a trifle unsteady when he replied. "I _shall!_" He paused and his hand met hers. "If it is possible." Her eyebrows raised a trifle. "Is it so hard to do?" "Do not ask me to explain," he said, "I am riding a long way." "Oh, a 'long-rider'!" she laughed, "then of course--" She stopped abruptly. It may have been imagination, but he seemed to start when she spoke the phrase by which outlaws were known to each other. He was forcing his eyes to meet hers. He said slowly: "I am going on a long journey. Perhaps I will come back. If I am able to, I shall." He dropped his hand from hers and she remained silent, guessing at many things, and deeply moved, for every woman knows when a man speaks from his soul. "You will not forget me?" "I shall never forget you," she answered quietly. "Good-bye, Mr. Lee!" Her hand touched his again, she wheeled, and rode away. He remained standing with the hand she had grasped still raised. And after a moment, as he had hoped, she turned in the saddle and waved to him. His eyes were downward and he was smiling faintly when he re-entered the saloon. Silent sat at a table with his chin propped in his hand--his left hand, of course, for that restless right hand must always be free. He stared across the room towards Whistling Dan. The train of thoughts which kept those ominous eyes so unmoving must be broken. He sat down at the side of his chief. "What the hell?" said the big man, "ain't you started yet?" "Look here, Jim," said Haines cautiously, "I want you to lay off on this kid, Whistling Dan. It won't meant anything to you to raise the devil with him." "I tell you," answered Silent, "it'll please me more'n anything in the world to push that damned girl face of his into the floor." "Silent, I'm asking a personal favour of you!" The leader turned upon him that untamed stare. Haines set his teeth. "Haines," came the answer, "I'll stand more from you than from any man alive. I know you've got guts an' I know you're straight with me. But there ain't anything can keep me from manhandlin' that kid over there." He opened and shut his fingers slowly. "I sort of yearn to get at him!" Haines recognized defeat.