Keith sat in reflection for a moment.

“Tim Gilsey is going to drive the stage over to Eden to-night.  Go down and see if the places are all taken.”

“I have got a place on it,” she said, “on the boot.”

As Keith looked at her, she added in explanation: 

“I take it regular, so as to have it when I want it.”

Under Keith’s glance she turned away her eyes.

“I am going to Eden to-night,” said Keith.

She looked puzzled.

“If you could get old Tim to stop at that house for five minutes till I give Bluffy a letter to Dr. Balsam over at the Springs, I think we might arrange it.  My clothes will fit him.  You will have to see Uncle Tim.”

Her countenance lit up.

“You mean you would stop there and let him take your place?”

“Yes.”

The light of craft that must have been in Delilah’s eyes when Samson lay at her feet was in her face.  She sprang up.

“I will never forgit you, and Bill won’t neither.  He knows now what a hound he has been.  When you let him off last night after he had slipped on the rock, he says that was enough for him.  Before he will ever pull a pistol on you ag’in, he says he will blow his own brains out; and he will, or I will for him.”  She looked capable of it as she stood with glowing eyes and after a moment held out her hand.  She appeared about to speak, but reflected and turned away.

When the girl left Keith’s room a few moments later, she carried a large bundle under her arm, and that night the stage stopped in the darkness at a little shanty at the far end of the fast-growing street, and Keith descended painfully and went into the house.  Whilst the stage waited, old Tim attempted to do something to the lamp on that side, and in turning it down he put it out.  Just then Keith, with his arm in a sling and wrapped in a heavy coat, came out, and was helped by old Tim up to the seat beside him.  The stage arrived somewhat ahead of time at the point which the railroad had now reached, and old Tim, without waiting for daylight, took the trouble to hire a buggy and send the wounded man on, declaring that it was important that he should get to a hospital as soon as possible.

Amusements were scarce in Gumbolt, and Ferdy Wickersham had been there only a day or two when, under Mr. Plume’s guidance, he sought the entertainment of Terpsichore’s Hall.  He had been greatly struck by Terpy that night on the road, when she had faced down the men and had afterwards bound up Keith’s arm.  He had heard from Plume rumors of her frequent trips over the road and jests of her fancy for Keith.  He would test it.  It would break the monotony and give zest to the pursuit to make an inroad on Keith’s preserve.  When he saw her on the little stage he was astonished at her dancing.  Why, the girl was an artist!  As good a figure, as active a tripper, as high a kicker, as dainty a pair of ankles as he had seen in a long time, not to mention a keen pair of eyes with the devil peeping from them.  To his surprise, he found Terpy stony to his advances.  Her eyes glittered with dislike for him.