LITMIR.BIZ

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Western men. Her blue eyes were upon Dan.

      "Ain't you a long ways from home?" she went on.

      The rest of the table, perceiving the drift of her badgering, broke into a rumbling bass chuckle.

      "Quite a ways," said Dan, and his wide brown eyes looked seriously back at her.

      A yell of delight came from the men at this naive rejoinder. Dan looked about him with a sort of childish wonder. Calder's anxious whisper came at his side: "Don't let them get you mad, Dan!" Jacqueline, having scored so heavily with her first shot, was by no means willing to give up her sport.

      "With them big eyes, for a starter," she said, "all you need is long hair to be perfect. Do your folks generally let you run around like this?"

      Every man canted his ear to get the answer and already they were grinning expectantly.

      "I don't go out much," returned the soft voice of Dan, "an' when I do, I go with my friend, here. He takes care of me."

      Another thunder of laughter broke out. Jacqueline had apparently uncovered a tenderfoot, and a rare one even for that absurd species. A sandy- haired cattle puncher who sat close to Jacqueline now took the cue from the mistress of the house.

      "Ain't you a bit scared when you get around among real men?" he asked, leering up the table towards Dan.

      The latter smiled gently upon him.

      "I reckon maybe I am," he said amiably.

      "Then you must be shakin' in your boots right now," said the other over the sound of the laughter.

      "No, said Dan," "I feel sort of comfortable."

      The other replied with a frown that would have intimidated a balky horse.

      "What d'you mean? Ain't you jest said men made you sort of— nervous?"

      He imitated the soft drawl of Dan with his last words and raised another yell of delight from the crowd. Whistling Dan turned his gentle eyes upon Jacqueline.

      "Pardon me, ma'am," he began.

      An instant hush fell on the men. They would not miss one syllable of the delightful remarks of this rarest of all tenderfoots, and the prelude of this coming utterance promised something that would eclipse all that had gone before.

      "Talk right out, Brown-eyes," said Jacqueline, wiping the tears of delight from her eyes. "Talk right out as if you was a man. I won't hurt you."

      "I jest wanted to ask," said Dan, "if these are real men?"

      The ready laughter started, checked, and died suddenly away. The cattlemen looked at each other in puzzled surprise.

      "Don't they look like it to you, honey?" asked Jacqueline curiously.

      Dan allowed his eyes to pass lingeringly around the table from face to face.

      "I dunno," he said at last, "they look sort of queer to me."

      "For God's sake cut this short, Dan," pleaded Tex Calder in an undertone. "Let them have all the rope they want. Don't trip up our party before we get started."

      "Queer?" echoed Jacqueline, and there was a deep murmur from the men.

      "Sure," said Dan, smiling upon her again, "they all wear their guns so awful high."

      Out of the dead silence broke the roar of the sandy-haired man: "What'n hell d'you mean by that?"

      Dan leaned forward on one elbow, his right hand free and resting on the edge of the table, but still his smile was almost a caress.

      "Why," he said, "maybe you c'n explain it to me. Seems to me that all these guns is wore so high they's more for ornament than use."

      "You damned pup—" began Sandy.

      He stopped short and stared with a peculiar fascination at Dan, who started to speak again. His voice had changed—not greatly, for its pitch was the same and the drawl was the same—but there was a purr in it that made every man stiffen in his chair and make sure that his right hand was free. The ghost of his former smile was still on his lips, but it was his eyes that seemed to fascinate Sandy.

      "Maybe I'm wrong, partner," he was saying, "an' maybe you c'n prove that your gun ain't jest ornamental hardware?"

      What followed was very strange. Sandy was a brave man and everyone at that table knew it. They waited for the inevitable to happen. They waited for Sandy's lightning move for his gun. They waited for the flash and the crack of the revolver. It did not come. There followed a still more stunning wonder.

      "You c'n see," went on that caressing voice of Dan, "that everyone is waitin' for you to demonstrate—which the lady is most special interested."

      And still Sandy did not move that significant right hand. It remained fixed in air a few inches above the table, the fingers stiffly spread. He moistened his white lips. Then—most strange of all!—his eyes shifted and wandered away from the face of Whistling Dan. The others exchanged incredulous glances. The impossible had happened—Sandy had taken water! The sheriff was the first to recover, though his forehead was shining with perspiration.

      "What's all this stuff about?" he called. "Hey, Sandy, quit pickin' trouble with the stranger!"

      Sandy seized the loophole through which to escape with his honour. He settled back in his chair.

      "All right, gov'nor," he said, "I won't go spoilin' your furniture. I won't hurt him."

      20. ONE TRAIL ENDS

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      But this deceived no one. They had seen him palpably take water. A moment of silence followed, while Sandy stared whitefaced down at the table, avoiding all eyes; but all the elements of good breeding exist under all the roughness of the West. It was Jacqueline who began with a joke which was rather old, but everyone appreciated it—at that moment—and the laughter lasted long enough to restore some of the colour to Sandy's face. A general rapid fire of talk followed.

      "How did you do it?" queried Calder. "I was all prepared for a gun- play."

      "Why, you seen I didn't do nothin'."

      "Then what in the world made Sandy freeze while his hand was on the way to his gun?"

      "I dunno," sighed Dan, "but when I see his hand start movin' I sort of wanted his blood—I wanted him to keep right on till he got hold of his gun—and maybe he seen it in my eyes an' that sort of changed his mind."

      "I haven't the least doubt that it did," said Calder grimly.

      At the foot of the table Jacqueline's right-hand neighbour was saying: "What happened, Jac?"

      "Don't ask me," she replied. "All I know is that I don't think any less of Sandy because he backed down. I saw that stranger's face myself an' I'm still sort of weak inside."

      "How did he look?"

      "I dunno. Jest—jest hungry. Understand?"

      She was silent for a time, but she was evidently thinking hard. At last she turned to the same man.

      "Did you hear Brown-eyes say that the broad-shouldered feller next to him was his friend?"

      "Sure. I seen them ride in together. That other one looks like a hard nut, eh?"

      She returned no answer, but after a time her eyes raised slowly and rested for a long moment on Dan's face. It was towards the end of the meal when she rose and went towards the kitchen. At the door she turned, and Dan, though he was looking down at his plate, was conscious that someone was observing him. He glanced up and the moment his eyes met hers she made a significant backward gesture with her hand. He hesitated a moment and then shoved back his chair. Calder was busy talking to a table mate, so he walked out of the house without speaking to his companion. He went to the

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