"Yes, but I thought you were only fooling. Besides I _had_ to come."

"Why? You don't fit here. You've got too clean a look."

Pan gazed down at her, feeling in her words and presence something that prompted him to more than kindliness and good nature.

"Louise, I can return the compliment. You don't fit here."

"_d.a.m.n you!_" she flashed. "I'll fall in love with you."

"Well, if you did, I'd sure drag you out of this h.e.l.l," replied Pan, bluntly.

"Come away from these gamblers," she demanded, and drew him from behind the circle to seats at an empty table. "I won't ask you to drink or dance. But I'm curious. I've been hearing about you."

"That so? Who told you?"

"I overheard d.i.c.k Hardman tonight, just before supper. He has a room next to mine in the hotel here, when he stays in town. He was telling his father about you. Such cussing I never heard. I'm giving you a hunch. They'll do away with you."

"Thanks. Reckon it's pretty fine of you to put me on my guard."

"I only meant behind your back.--What has d.i.c.k against you?"

"We were kids together back in Texas. Just natural rivals and enemies.

But I hadn't seen him for years till last night. Then he didn't know me."

"He knows you now all right. He ran into you today?"

"I reckon he did," replied Pan, with a grim laugh.

"Panhandle, this is getting sort of warm," she said, leaning across the table to him. "I'm not prying into your affairs. But I could be your friend. G.o.d knows I like a _man_."

"That's the second compliment you've paid me tonight. What're you up to, Louise?"

"See here, cowboy, when I pay any two-legged hombre compliments you can gamble they are sincere."

"All right, no offense meant."

"Do you resent my curiosity?"

"No."

"I've got you figured right when I say you're in trouble. You're _looking_ for someone?"

"Yes."

"I knew it," she retorted, snapping her fingers. "And that's Hardman and his outfit ... I didn't hear all d.i.c.k said. When he talked loud he cussed. But I heard enough to tie up Panhandle Smith with this girl Lucy and the Hardman outfit."

Pan eyed her steadily. She was encroaching upon sacred ground. But her feeling was genuine, and undoubtedly she had some connection with a situation which began to look complex. The same instinct that operated so often with Pan in his relation to men of the open now subtly prompted him. Regardless of circ.u.mstances he knew when to grasp an opportunity.

"Louise, you show that you'd risk taking a chance on me--a stranger,"

he replied, with quick decision. "I return that compliment."

The smile she gave him was really a reward. It gave him a glimpse of the depths of her.

"Who's this girl, Lucy?" she queried.

"She's my sweetheart, ever since we were kids," returned Pan with emotion. "I went to riding the ranges, and well, like so many cowboys, I didn't go back home. When I did go Lucy was gone, my family was gone. I trailed them here--to find that d.i.c.k Hardman was about to force Lucy to marry him."

"The ---- ---- ----!" she burst out. Then after her excitement cooled: "How'd he aim to force her?"

Quickly Pan explained the situation as related to Jim Blake.

"Aha! Easy to savvy. That's where Jard Hardman and Matthews come in.... Panhandle, they're a dirty outfit--and the dirtiest of them is d.i.c.k Hardman!"

"What's he to you, Louise?" inquired Pan gravely. "You'll excuse me if I say I can't see you in love with him."

"In love with d.i.c.k Hardman?" she whispered, hotly. "My G.o.d! I wouldn't soil even my hands on him--if I didn't have to.... He met me in Frisco. He brought me to this d.a.m.ned stinking rough hole. He made me promises he never kept. Not to marry me. Don't get the wrong hunch. He has double-crossed me. And I _had_ to sink to this!...

Drunk? Yes, sure I was drunk. Don't you understand I have to be drunk to stand this life? I'm not drunk now because you got here early....

Something deep must be behind my meeting you, Panhandle Smith."

"I hope to heaven it will be to your good--as I know meeting you will be to mine," replied Pan fervently.

"We're off the track," she broke in, and Pan imagined he saw a deeper red under her artificial color. "I despise d.i.c.k Hardman. He's stingy, conceited, selfish. He's low down, and he's sinking to worse."

"His father ruined mine," Pan told her. "That's what brought Dad out here--to try to get something back from Jard Hardman. No use. He only got another hard deal."

"That cowboy who was in here with you last night--Blinky Moran. His claim was jumped by Hardman."

"Louise, how'd you know that?" asked Pan in surprise.

"Don't give me away. Blinky told me. He's one of my friends and he's a white man if I ever saw one.... He has been in love with me. Wanted me to marry him! Poor crazy boy! I sure had to fight--and get drunker--to keep from more than liking him. He spent all his money on me and I had to make him quit."

"Well, that little bow-legged cowboy liar! He's as deep as the sea."

"Keep it secret, Panhandle," she responded seriously. "I don't want to hurt his feelings.... To get back to the Hardmans. They've taken strong hold here. The old man owns half of Marco. He's in everything.

But it's my hunch I'm giving you--that he's in the straight deals only to cover the crooked ones. That's where the money is."

"Yet Jard Hardman will not square up with Dad!" exclaimed Pan.

"Now tell me why you come into the Yellow Mine. Is it to court trouble? You're taking an awful chance. Every night or so some tipsy miner gets robbed or knifed, or shot."

"Louise, in dealing with men of really dangerous quality your only chance is to face them with precisely the same thing. As for the four-flushers like Matthews and men of the Hardman stamp, the one thing they can't stand is nerve. They haven't got it. They don't understand it. They fear it. It works on their consciousness. They begin to figure on what the nervy man means to do before they do anything....

If I did not show myself in the street, and here, the Hardman outfit would soon run true to their deals. So by appearing to invite and seek a fight I really avoid one."

"So that's why they call you Panhandle Smith?" queried the girl, meditatively. "I mean with the tone old man Hardman used. They call me Angel. But that doesn't mean what it sounds, does it?"

"I can't figure you, Louise," replied Pan dubiously.

"I'm glad you can't.... h.e.l.lo, there's Blinky and his pard Gus.

What're they up to?"