The cow country takes its amusements seriously.  A dance is infrequent enough to be an event.  Men and women do not ride or drive from thirty to fifty miles without expecting to drink the last drop of pleasure there may be in the occasion.

As Jim swung from the saddle, a slim figure in white glided from the shadow of the wild cucumber vines that rioted over one end of the porch.

“Well, Jim?”

The man came to the point with characteristic directness.  “He has been waylaid, Phyl.  We found his hat and the place where they ambushed him.”

“Is he——­” Her voice died at the word, but her meaning was clear.

“I don’t think it.  Looks like they were aiming to take him prisoner without hurting him.  They might easily have shot him down, but the ground shows there was a struggle.”

“And you came back without rescuing him?” she reproached.

“Phil and I were unarmed.  I came back to get guns and help.”

“And Phil?”

“He’s following the trail.  I wanted him to let me while he came back.  But he wouldn’t hear to it.  Said he had to square his debt to Larry.”

“Good for Phil!” his sister cried, eyes like stars.

“Is Brill still here?” he asked.

“No.  He rode away about an hour ago.  He was very bitter at me because I wouldn’t dance with him.  Said I’d curse myself for it before twenty-four hours had passed.  He must have Larry in his power, Jim.”

“Looks like,” he nodded, and added grimly:  “If you do any regretting there will be others that will, too.”

She caught the lapels of his coat and looked into his face with extraordinary intensity.  “I’m going back with you, Jim.  You’ll let me, won’t you?  I’ve waited—­and waited.  You can’t think what an awful night it has been.  I can’t stand it any longer!  I’ll go mad!  Oh, Jim, you’ll take me, I know!” Her hands slipped down to his and clung to them with passionate entreaty.

“Why, honey, I cayn’t.  This is likely to be war before we finish.  It ain’t any place for girls.”

“I’ll stay back, Jim.  I’ll do whatever you say, if you’ll only let me go.”

He shook his head resolutely.  “Cayn’t be done, girl.  I’m sorry, but you see yourself it won’t do.”

Nor could all her beseechings move him.  Though his heart was very tender toward her he was granite to her pleadings.  At last he put her aside gently and stepped into the house.

Going at once to the fiddlers, he stopped the music and stood on the little rostrum where they were seated.  Surprised faces turned toward him.

“What’s up, Jim?” demanded Slim, his arm still about the waist of Bess Purdy.

“A man was waylaid while coming to this dance and taken prisoner by his enemies.  They mean to do him a mischief.  I want volunteers to rescue him.”

“Who is it?” several voices cried at once.

“The man I mean is Larrabie Keller.”