Helen filled it out aloud. “And you were going to say that you care more for him than any of the others. Well, you must stop coquetting and tell him so when we have saved him.” “Yes, ma’am,” agreed Nora, very repentant for the moment of the fact that it was her nature to play with the hearts of those of the male persuasion. Immediately she added: “He was _that_ kind, ma’am, tender-hearted.” Helen, whose own heart was breaking, continued to soothe her. “Don’t say _was_, child. You are to be brave, and not think of him that way.” “Yes, ma’am. He told me he was going to buy cows with the thousand dollars he won yesterday. I knew he meant—” “Yes, of course. It’s a cowboy’s way of saying that he means to start housekeeping. Have you the telegram, Missou?” For that young man was standing in the doorway. He handed her the yellow slip. She ripped open the envelope and read: Company B en route. Railroad connections uncertain. Postpone crisis long as possible. May reach Gimlet Butte by ten-thirty. Her first thought was of unspeakable relief. The militia was going to take a hand. The boys in khaki would come marching down the street, and everything would be all right. But hard on the heels of her instinctive gladness trod the sober second thought. Ten-thirty at best, and perhaps later! Would they wait that long, or would they do their cowardly work as soon as night fell. She must contrive to delay them till the train drew in. She must play for those two lives with all her woman’s wit; must match the outlaw’s sinister cunning and fool him into delay. She knew he would come if she sent for him. But how long could she keep him? As long as he was amused at her agony, as long as his pleasure in tormenting her was greater than his impatience to be at his ruffianly work. Oh, if she ever needed all her power it would be to-night. Throughout the day she continued to receive hourly reports from Denver, who always brought with him four or five honest cowpunchers from up-country to listen to the strange tale she unfolded to them. It was, of course, in part, the spell of her sweet personality, of that shy appeal she made to the manhood in them; but of those who came, nearly all believed, for the time at least, and aligned themselves on her side in the struggle that was impending. Some of these were swayed from their allegiance in the course of the day, but a few she knew would remain true. Meanwhile, all through the day, the enemy was busily at work. As Denver had predicted, free liquor was served to all who would drink. The town and its guests were started on a grand debauch that was to end in violence that might shock their sober intelligence. Everywhere poisoned whispers were being flung broadcast against the two men waiting in the jail for what the night would bring forth.