"It will be safer. You don't have to be too open about it. You can arrest the people the gang doesn't care anything about."

"That would be hard on the people, I should say."

"It's better than running into danger all the time. I tell you, Billy, as true as I stand here this minute, if you try to fight the gang, you won't last out your term."

She clasped her hands and regarded him piteously. When a pretty girl clasps her hands and regards you piteously, what are you going to do?

Right. You can't help yourself, can you? Neither could Billy.

But when he had kissed her three times on the mouth she pushed him away and cried distractedly. "You mustn't! You mustn't! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Oh, yes, I do," he a.s.sured her and seized her b.u.t.tery hands. "We'll be married to-morrow!"

At which she whipped her hands from his grasp and put the table between them. "No! Go over there and sit down!"

"I won't! I love you! And you love me!"

"I don't," she stormed.

"What did you kiss me back for then?" he demanded triumphantly. "You did! You know you did! I felt you!"

This was true. But she continued to keep the table between them, despite his efforts to come around to her side.

"You go over there and sit down--please!" she begged. "Please, please, pretty please!"

He went slowly. He sat down. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and teetered his heels on the rowels of his spurs.

"Look here, Hazel," he complained, for he was feeling most ill-used, "I don't understand this a-tall. You lemme kiss you three times and then you shove me away, and when I ask you to marry me, you run behind the table. What did you let me kiss you for if you don't love me?"

"I couldn't help myself. You were so quick."

"You kissed me back, too. Don't forget that."

"It was a mistake, all a mistake. You don't love me."

"You don't know a thing about it. I do love you. And you love me, you know you do."

But by this time she had regained complete control of herself. "I don't know anything of the kind. Let's forget it."

As if he could forget the pressure of her soft lips! Why, for another such kiss he would cheerfully have fought a grizzly. For that's the kind of a kiss it was.

He shook his head. "I can't forget."

Her poor heart almost choked her at the words. She wanted him to kiss her again, and keep on kissing her till she told him to stop. How wonderful that would be! But she stifled the desire with an effort of will that turned her cheeks white.

"You must forget," she told him, her chin wobbling.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll do my best."

"I don't--" she began and paused. To save her life she could not tell this man the contrary of what every fiber of her being was proclaiming.

She could not. She compromised. "I don't know," she said tightly. "I don't know."

"But I know," objected Billy. "You just give me a----"

"No," she interrupted, "don't plague me, Billy, please don't.

Just--just don't ask me again, that's all."

"Is there anybody else?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "No one."

"Then I've got a chance."

But at this she took fright anew. "You mustn't think of it! You mustn't! I can't marry you now, Billy."

"Now? All right, some other time."

He stooped over as though to pick up something from the floor.

Apparently he overbalanced himself, for he fell forward on his hands and knees. When he picked himself up he was within arm's length of Hazel. He reached out two triumphant arms and swept her against him.

A bare instant she struggled desperately. Then with a sigh she relaxed and put up her mouth to be kissed.

"There, there," he said later, his lips pressed against her hair, "I knew it would be all right once you let yourself go."

She lifted her body slightly in his arms. "Tell me you love me, dearest."

Then when he told her, she asked, "How much? More than anything else in the world? Are you sure?"

What ridiculous questions. Of course he was sure.

"Then you'll do anything I ask, won't you? Promise?"

She raised her head from his shoulder. "Promise?" she repeated, her warm lips on his.

Even as her arms tightened about his neck, he felt a tightening at his heart. And the latter was not a pleasant tightening. What did she mean? He loved her. G.o.d, how he loved her dark loveliness, but--what was she driving at?

"I can't promise till you tell what you want me to do."

"No, say you promise. Say it, say it."

But he would not, and she tried a new angle. "If I tell you, will you promise?"

"After you've told me," he persisted.

She sat up straight at this and took his face between her two arm palms.

"Billy, you know I love you, don't you?"

Looking into her eyes how could he doubt it.

She resumed. "You know I wouldn't ask you to do anything that wasn't for your own good, yet you won't promise the first promise I ever asked you to make."