Before the assailants could pull trigger again, however, some one had knocked Bud’s pistol from his hand, Colonel Morgan had grabbed him, and Jim had jerked Dick’s arm down just as his revolver rang out, sending a bullet through Bud’s big toe. The bully jumped with a yell of pain and tried to break through the crowd for the door, toward which Colonel Morgan’s brawny hand, clutched on his collar, was hustling him. When the way was cleared, the old Colonel gave his crestfallen captive a shove and a kick, saying wrathfully, “Now, get, you damned hoodlum, and don’t you ever darken my door again!” “If I catch you,” shouted Dick angrily, “I’ll shoot you on sight.” Bud, terrified now and suffering with pain, ran to the shed, jumped on his horse and sped away. Where he went no one knew, and nobody seemed to care. The panic gradually subsided, and the dance was soon going on as merrily as if nothing had happened. The crowd did not go home till morning; at least the new day was just sending its heralds of light above the hills as the party broke up with hearty thanks and hand shakes to Rancher Morgan and his niece for the jolly time they had given their neighbors. As a parting salute, the cowboys emptied their revolvers into the air and dashed away with whoops that woke the hillside echoes. The girls struck up-- “Good night, ladies, Good night, ladies, Good night, ladies, We’re going to leave you now.” as they rolled along the ranch roads in their buckboards and lumber wagons. Colonel Morgan and his little girl, with animated faces, stood in the door till the revelry had died away. Then Alta turned to her warm-souled uncle, the only father she had ever known, and giving him a sweet--not good-night, but good-morning kiss, left for her room and lay down to rest. But she could not go to sleep. Her thoughts kept tossing excitedly, till to calm them she arose and went to the window where she stood looking out upon the dawning day, and thinking, thinking. The events of the night just past had shocked her soul to a new sense of responsibility. She had begun to learn that it is dangerous business to play with the fire of human hearts. She chided herself for being too free with Dick Davis. What would come of it all? Her sensitive heart was troubled. For Alta Morgan was not a flirt; she was full of life and fun; she liked friends, and she won them quickly by her artless grace and genuine goodness; but though she seemed care-free and merry, her conscience was keen and true. It pained her to hurt any one. She felt more pity than blame for even stupid Bud. But she soothed herself with the feeling that after all, her fault was at worst only a bursting desire for innocent fun; and with this comforting thought she gradually dropped her worries to watch the morning break in peace over her troubled world.