Moved by an entirely unaccountable impulse, she drew the reins slightly on Billy, slowing him, almost imperceptibly, so that both horses had traveled more than a quarter of a mile before the distance between them lessened noticeably.

And then, with an impatience that caused her cheeks to glow, Barbara noted that Purgatory had slowed also, Harlan seemingly accommodating the animal's pace to her own. It was plain to see that Harlan did not intend to a.s.sume that she had relented.

For another quarter of a mile the distance remained the same, and the silence was unbroken except by the rhythmical beating of hoofs through the rustling, matted mesquite.

Then Barbara, yielding to an impulse of righteous anger, brought on by Harlan's obvious intention to remain at a respectful distance, deliberately brought Billy to a walk and waited until Harlan rode beside her.

"You don't need to be a brute--even if I did tell you to go back to the ranchhouse!"

"Meanin' what, ma'am? Why, I don't remember to have done anything. I was doin' a heap of thinkin' just now--if that's what you mean."

"Thinking mean things of me--I suppose--for what I said to you."

He had been thinking of her--seriously. And his thoughts were far from fickle as he watched her now, riding within a few feet of him, her profile toward him, her head having a rigid set, her chin held high, her lips tight-pressed, and her hair drooping in graceful coils over her ears, and bulging in alluring disorder at the nape of her neck.

He was thinking that he had braved, to answer a mere whim, greater dangers than he would be likely to meet in defending her from the wolf-pack which circ.u.mstances had set upon her. He was thinking that heretofore his life had been lived without regard to order or system--that he had led a will-o'-the-wisp existence, never knowing that such women as she graced the world. He was thinking of what might have happened to her had not Davey Langan been killed, and if he had not started out to avenge him.

Into his thoughts at this minute flashed a mental picture that paled his face and brought his lips into straight, hard lines--a picture of Barbara at the mercy of Deveny.

With a quick turn he brought Purgatory around in front of Billy, blocking the animal's further progress westward. The girl started at the rapid movement, and watched him fearfully, dreading--she knew not what.

But his smile--grim and mirthless though it was--partially rea.s.sured her, and she sat silent, looking at him as he spoke, rapidly, earnestly.

"I was thinkin' of you; an' I wasn't thinkin' mean things--about you. I was thinkin' of Deveny--an' of what your dad told me over there by Sentinel Rock.

"Your dad told me that you was in danger--that Deveny an' Strom Rogers an' some more of them had their eyes turned on you. Your dad made me promise that I'd come here an' look out for you--an' I mean to do it.

That's why I went to Lamo when I had no call to go there an' that's why I brought Deveny to a show-down in front of you.

"There's somethin' goin' on around here that ain't showin' on the surface--somethin' that's hidden an' sneakin'. You heard some of them guys in Lamo ga.s.sin' about the 'Chief' bein' one of the three that sent your dad over the Divide.

"Well, your dad told me that, too--that there was three of them pitched onto him. It was the fellow they call Chief that shot your dad while he was sleepin'--when it was too dark for your dad to see his face. Your dad made me promise to hunt that guy up an' square things for him. That's what I'm here for. Anyway, it's one reason I'm here. The other reason is that I'm goin' to see that you get a square deal from them guys.

"An' you won't get a square deal ridin' out alone, like this--especially when you head toward Sunset Trail, where Deveny an' his gang hang out.

An' I'm settin' down hard on you ridin' that way. I'm keepin' you from runnin' any chances."

Silently Barbara had watched Harlan's face while he had been talking.

There was no doubt that he was in earnest, and there was likewise no doubt that he was concerned for her safety. But why? It seemed absurd that Harlan, an outlaw himself, should protect her from other outlaws.

Yet in Lamo he had done just that.

Behind his actions, his expressed concern for her, must be a motive. What was it? Was it possible that he was doing this thing unselfishly; that the promise her father had exacted from him had changed him; that in his heart at this instant dwelt those finer impulses which must be dormant in all men, however bad?

The light of that great inquiry was in her eyes; they searched his face for subtlety and craft and cunning--for something that would give her a clue to his thoughts. And when she could find in his expression only a grave concern she pulled Billy around and started him back toward the ranchhouse.

They had not ridden more than a hundred yards before she stole a glance at Harlan.

He was now riding beside her, looking straight ahead, his face expressionless. Had he betrayed the slightest sign of triumph she would have changed her mind about going back to the ranchhouse with him.

As it was, she felt a pulse of rage over her readiness in yielding to his orders. Yet the rage was softened by a lurking, stealthy joy she got out of his masterfulness.

"I presume I may ride in another direction--east, for instance--or north, or south?"

He apparently took no notice of the mockery in her voice.

"You'll not be ridin' alone, anywhere," he declared.

"Oh!" she returned, raising her chin and looking at him with a cold scorn that, she thought, would embarra.s.s him; "I am to have a guardian."

He looked straight back to her, steadily, seemingly unaffected by the hostility of her gaze.

"It amounts to that. But mebbe I wouldn't put it just that way.

Somebody's got to look out for you--to see that you don't go to rushin'

into trouble. There was trouble over in Lamo--if you'll remember."

And now he smiled gravely at her, and her face reddened over the memory of the incident. She had been eager enough, then, to seek his protection; she had trusted him.

"That wasn't your fault," he went on gently. "You didn't know then, mebbe, just what kind of a guy Deveny is. But you know now, an' it _would_ be your fault if you run into him again."

He saw how she took it--how her color came and went, and how her eyes drooped from his. He smiled soberly.

"Looks to me that you've got to pin your faith to a mighty small chance, ma'am."

"What chance?" She looked at him in startled wonderment, for it had not occurred to her that she faced any real danger, despite the threatening att.i.tude of Deveny, and her isolation. For the great, peaceful world, and the swimming sunlight were full of the promise of the triumph of right and virtue; and the st.u.r.dy self-reliance of youth was in her heart.

"What chance?" she repeated, watching him keenly.

"The chance that me an' Red Linton will be able to get things into shape to look out for you." He was gravely serious.

"It must seem a mighty slim chance to you--me comin' here with a reputation that ain't any too good, an' Linton, with his red head an' his freckles. Seems like a woman would go all wrong, pinnin' her faith to red hair an' freckles an' a h.e.l.l-raisin' outlaw. But there's been worse combinations, ma'am--if I do say it myself. An' me an' Red is figurin' to come through, no matter what you think of us."

"Red Linton?" she said. "That is the little, short, red-haired man you put in Lawson's place, isn't it? I have never noticed him--particularly.

It seems that I have always thought him rather unimportant."

Harlan grinned. "That's a trick Red's got--seemin' unimportant. Red spends a heap of his time not sayin' anything, an' hangin' around lookin'

like he's been misplaced. But when there's any trouble, you'll find Red like the banty rooster that's figurin' to rule the roost.

"I knowed him over in Pardo, ma'am--he rode for the T Down for two or three seasons."

"You are antic.i.p.ating trouble--with Deveny?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

"There ain't any use of tryin' to hide it, ma'am. Mebbe your dad thought you'd be better off by him not mentionin' it to you. But I've got a different idea. Anyone--man or woman--knows a heap more about how to go about things if they're sort of able to antic.i.p.ate trouble. Your dad told me things was in a mixup over here with Deveny an' some more of his kind; an' I ain't aimin' to let you go ramblin' around in the dark.

"About half the Rancho Seco men belong to Deveny's gang, Linton says.

That's why I put Linton in Lawson's place; an' that's why I'm askin' you to stick pretty close to the Rancho Seco, an' requestin' you not to go rummagin' around the country."

She rode on silently, her face pale, digesting this disquieting news. She remembered now that her father _had_ seemed rather worried at times, and that upon several occasions he had hinted that he was distrustful of some of the Rancho Seco men. But as Harlan had said, he had never taken her completely into his confidence--no doubt because he had not wanted her to worry. That was very like her father--always making life easy for her.

However, covertly watching Harlan, she was conscious of an emotion that the latter did not suspect. The emotion was confidence--not in Harlan, for, though she had seen that he, apparently, was eager to become her champion, she could not forget that he, too, was an outlaw, with no proof that he had been sent to the Rancho Seco by her father; with nothing but his actions to convince her that his motives were founded upon consideration for her welfare.