But Barbara was not smiling. There was a wistfulness in her eyes that made Linton gulp with jealous thoughts that came to him.

"He don't deserve it, the durned scalawag!"

"Deserve what?" questioned Barbara.

"You," muttered Linton, with an embarra.s.sed grin. "Shucks, I wasn't thinkin' I was talkin' out loud. I'm sure gettin' locoed."

"Who doesn't deserve me?" asked Barbara.

"Harlan!" declared Linton, with a subtle glance at the girl. "He ain't in no ways fit to be thinkin' serious thoughts about a girl like you."

"Has he been thinking serious thoughts?" Her eyes dropped from Linton's and the latter grinned widely.

"Thinkin' them! He's been talkin' them. Talked them all the time him an'

me was stretched out in the big room, gettin' over our scratches. That man is plumb locoed. I couldn't get him to talk nothin' else. When I told him about the governor sendin' him congratulations, an' offerin' to do somethin' handsome for him, he says: 'You say she ain't worryin' none about things? Red, do you think she'd hook up with a guy like me--that's got a bad reputation?'"

Linton shot a side glance at Barbara and saw a flush steal into her cheeks. He concealed a broad grin with the palm of his hand and then said, gruffly:

"I answers him as such a impertinent question ought to be answered. Says I--'Harlan, you're a d.a.m.ned fool!'--askin' your pardon, ma'am. A girl like Barbara Morgan ain't goin' to throw herself away on a no-good outlaw. Not none! Why, ma'am, he's an outlaw at heart as well as by reputation. He's clean bad--there ain't a bit of good in him. Didn't he go to Haydon deliberate? An' didn't he keep you in suspense about what was goin' on--not tellin' you anything until he had to? Shucks!"

"But there was a method in that, Linton," said Barbara; "he told me he was afraid I'd unconsciously betray him, and then he could not have done what he did."

Linton grinned again--again concealing the grin.

"You don't mean to say that you believe the cuss done the best he could?"

"I think I do, Linton."

"Shucks. Women is odd that way, ain't they? You ain't tellin' me that you think he's on the level--that his reputation ain't as bad as some folks make believe it is, an' that he's _square_?"

"I believe he's square, Linton!" the girl answered, firmly.

Linton was silent for an instant, during which he stood on one foot, looking westward where the sun was swimming low above the big valley.

"Ma'am," he said lowly, breaking the silence: "I'm d.a.m.ned if I ain't beginnin' to believe it, myself. There's some things that seem to prove it.

"First, there's him takin' your part over in Lamo. Then there's him comin' here with you, knowin' you was alone--an' not botherin' you. Then he guarded you right steady, not lettin' Haydon or Deveny run in on you.

Then he makes me foreman--which seems to prove that he's got sense. Then he goes up the valley an' helps your brother bust up the outlaw gang, riskin' his life a lot.

"An' all the time he knows where your dad hid that gold. But he didn't touch it until he got over that scratch Deveny give him--or until he could take you where it was hid an' show you he hadn't touched it. Yes, ma'am," he added with a hyprocritical grin--which he did not permit the girl to see--"I'm beginnin' to believe the cuss is on the level."

"Oh, he _is_, Linton!" said Barbara, in a low, earnest voice.

Again there was a silence. Then----

"Do you think he's a pretty good looker, ma'am?"

"I think he is handsome!" Again the girl blushed.

And again Linton grinned. He cleared his throat before he again spoke:

"Well," he drawled; "mebbe I wouldn't go that far. Mostly I don't care for a handsome man, anyway. I wouldn't say he's ugly, an' I won't say he's handsome. I'd light on a spot about halfway between them two extremes. I'd say he ain't a bad looker. That would be about right."

"He _is_ handsome, Linton!"

"Well, likely he is--to a woman. I've heard that there's _been_ women which thought him a heap good lookin'."

"Where, Linton?" she asked, quickly.

"Why, in Pardo, ma'am. There was a biscuit shooter in a eatin'-house there that was sure wild about Harlan--she followed him around a heap."

"He didn't have anything to do with her, Linton?" she questioned, stiffening.

"Shucks! Not him. Women never bothered him none. He always fought shy of them--until now. He's changed a lot. I don't understand him no more.

Keeps a-moonin' regular about you. I'm gettin' a heap sick of hangin'

around him. Ain't you?"

"No!"

"Well, that's a heap odd, ma'am. I was thinkin' you didn't like him a heap. Accordin' to that, I reckon you'd be right glad to see him--comin'

home from Pardo--where's he been to have that gold a.s.sayed?"

"He ought to be here before dark, Linton. And I shall be glad to see him."

"Hopin' the gold will a.s.say good, I reckon?"

"Hoping he will come back, safe."

"You don't care about the gold?"

"No."

"Only about him?"

"Yes, Linton," she said, gently.

"Well, that's odd, ma'am," drawled Linton.

"What is?"

"That I feel the same way about the cuss."

She looked keenly at him, saw the dancing, wayward gleam in his eyes, and gave him a reproachful glance.

"You've been pumping me, Linton," she charged.

"Well," he defended; "he's my friend, ma'am; an' I was sure worried, thinkin' you wouldn't take him--if he offered himself."

She smiled, wisely.