"_Him_? Him?"

"Yes, him. Bill. Mr. William H. Wingo. The sheriff of Crocker County. That's what _I'd_ do if _I_ loved him."

"I don't love him," snapped Hazel, the shine in her black eyes giving the lie to her words.

"You blessed child," said Sally Jane, and threw her arms around Hazel and drew her to her breast. "You blessed child. I don't know what ever came between you and Bill, but something did, and if you've got an atom of sense in your head, you'll move heaven and earth to make it up with him."

"He doesn't love me any more," declared Hazel, her emotion getting the better of her.

"Do you love him?" probed the older girls.

A p.r.o.nounced sniffle.

"Do you?"

"I always have," came the dragging confession.

"Then, for heaven's sake, tell him so! I'll bet he loves you fast enough! Land alive, if you've got Love in your grasp, don't turn it down! Love is the greatest thing in the world, and if you throw it away, you'll never have any luck the rest of your life. And you won't deserve any either."

Hazel drew out a damp ball of a handkerchief and blew her nose vigorously. "It's no use," she told her friend with a catch in her voice. "I couldn't tell him. I just couldn't."

Sally Jane flung up her hands. "You're a coward, that's what you are.

A moral coward. If I loved a man, which I don't, I'd tell him so, that is, providing he didn't tell me first," she added thoughtfully.

Hazel stooped to pick up a fallen chemise. "You're--you're different, Sally Jane. Besides, he doesn't love me any more. So it wouldn't do any good."

"Oh, no, of course not," Sally Jane waxed sarcastic. "And they say all mules are quadrupeds! Look here, Hazel, if it hadn't been for him, you'd be in a fine fix right now. Why, that Rale man-- Oh, you make me so mad I could shake you! I've told you more'n once how much you owe Bill. Look how he fought for you. Look-- Oh, Lord! Haven't you got any grat.i.tude at all?"

"Plenty," Hazel replied over her shoulder. "But my grat.i.tude can't make him love me."

Sally Jane put her hand on her friend's shoulders and turned her around. "I tell you, you're making a mistake. I tell you he does love you. You remember that last winter he came here several times, and he certainly didn't come to see me or Dad. And you weren't overly cordial, you know, Hazel. You didn't fall on his neck exactly."

"I'm not going to throw myself at any man's head!"

"Oh, don't be so high-strung! You're too proud for any human use! And Bill's just like you, the stiff-necked lollop!"

"He is not!" Hazel cried, with a decided flash of temper. "He's not stiff-necked! He's not a lollop! Oh, Sally dear, don't spoil everything," she begged. "You've been so good to me."

Sally Jane immediately changed her tune. "But why leave here? Why go home?"

"Because I've imposed on you long enough. I'll be safe there--now."

Sally Jane looked long into the eyes of Hazel Walton. "All right," she said shortly. "I'll drive you over myself."

Billy Wingo stretched out his long legs and absent-mindedly hacked the edge of his desk with a pocket knife. "I told her she'd have to come to me and put her arms around my neck and tell me I was right and she was wrong, and now I've got to stick to it, damitall! Bill, you idiot, you always did let your tongue run away with you. Always. And now she won't make it up. Three days now, since I got my job back, and not a word. Not a word. Well, one thing is certain sure, I ain't going to run after her. I ain't, not by a jugful."

"His lips are moving, but he ain't sayin' anything," announced Riley Tyler in a loud, cheerful tone. "Do you think he's going crazy, Shotgun, or is it only the beginnings of droolin' old age?"

"I dunno," said Shotgun. "Better watch him. If he begins to gibber and pull out his hair, he's looney and we'll have to tie him down, I expect. Is your rope strong, Riley?"

"You fellers," Billy remarked with dignity, "make me more tired than a week's work."

So saying, he arose and went to the corner where his saddle and bridle lay. Three minutes later he rode out of Golden Bar.

"He's taken the Hillsville trail," said Riley Tyler, his nose flattened against the window pane. "Where do you suppose he's going?"

"Going to spend some of the reward money, I expect. Joke on you, Riley, having to dig up a thousand plunks you haven't got."

"I'd rather owe it to him than cheat him out of it," grinned Riley, who had long since spent the money obtained from Jack Murray. "Alla same, I'll pay him when I get it. You lend me a hundred, Shotgun."

"Go 'way from me!" snarled Shotgun, flapping both hands at him. "If you're looking for easy money, sit into a game of draw, or rob a bank or somethin'. You won't get a single wheel from me. Nawsir!"

Billy, riding the Hillsville road, came at last to the mouth of the draw that led to Walton's. He stopped his horse and looked along the draw. Then he looked along the road.

"Of course, I was going to Hillsville," he lied rapidly to himself, "but I don't suppose it would hurt to sort of ride past her house.

Seems to me I heard somethin' about her leaving Prescott's. It may not be true, and then again-- Let's go, feller."

Feller headed obediently into the draw.

Hazel Walton, sewing in the front room, saw a rider coming up the draw.

"That looks like Bill's horse," she muttered. "And Bill's hat. It--it is Bill."

Her heart began to pound. Her throat constricted. There was something the matter with her knees. She dropped the sewing in her lap and clasped her hands together. She breathed in little gasps.

Billy Wingo came on. He came quite close--within twenty yards and stopped his horse and rested his hands on the saddle horn, and looked at the house. Just looked.

Although she knew he could not see her through the scrim curtains, she drew her chair a little away and to one side.

He pushed back his hat with the old familiar gesture. His face was expressionless. There were hollows under his eyes. He looked thin.

Poor boy. He had had an awfully hard time. And he had fought for her.

He had risked his life for her. Certainly she owed him a good deal,--everything, in fact. And here she couldn't even find sufficient courage to thank him. As though thanks, empty thanks, could possibly be adequate. Sally Jane was right. She was a coward. And proud.

Especially proud. She shivered.

Suddenly Billy pulled his hat forward and picked up his reins. She saw his heel move. The horse began to turn. It was then that something snapped in Hazel's breast. Strength came to her shaking knees. She sprang to her feet, ran to the door, flung it open and dashed out.

Billy's startled horse shied away. Billy dragged him back with a jerk.

Six feet from the horse Hazel stopped and stood very straight, her arms stiff at her sides. Her knees began to shake again. She knew that her voice would tremble. It did. "Bill, I--I've changed my mind. I was wrong. I--you--you did the right thing to see it through. If--if you hadn't, I don't know what would have become of me."

Then, of a sudden, he was off his horse, his arms were around her, and she knew that all her troubles were over.

THE END