Alice Terry had grown pale, too.  She saw that friend and protector and the stranger were enemies,—­that this meeting though purely accidental was not to end without trouble.  Her lips grew set, her eyes flashed, and she reined her horse closer to that of the Scarlet Boy.

Ned Harris let a faint smile, of contempt and pity combined, come into relief on his lips, as he saw this action.  Better ten male enemies than one female, he thought; but, then, women must not stand in the way, now.  No! nothing must block the path intervening between enmity and vengeance.

Harris was, if anything, the coolest of the three; but, after all, why should he not be?  He had spent several years in society that seemed callous to fear,—­that knew not what it was to be a Christian; where the utmost coolness was necessary to the preservation of life; where bravery was all and education a dead letter.  Fearless Frank, too, had seen all phases of rough western life, probably, but his temperament was more nervous and excitable, his passions tenfold harder to restrain.  Still, he managed to exercise a cool exterior now, that equaled that of his opposite—­his hated enemy.  Mystery, as Frank habitually called the girl, did not offer to conceal her feelings.  It was but natural that she should side with him to whom she owed her life, and the glances of scorn and indignation she shot at the young miner might have driven another man than him into a retreat.

Fearless Frank made no motion toward speech; he was determined that the young miner should open the quarrel, if a quarrel it was to be.  But beneath his firm-set lips were clenched two rows of teeth, tightly, fiercely; while every nerve in the youth’s body was drawn to its utmost tension.

Harris was wonderfully calm and at ease; only a gray pallor on his handsome face and a menacing fire in his piercing eyes told that he was in the least agitated.

“Justin McKenzie!”

Sternly rung out the words on the clear mountain air.  Ned Harris had spoken, and the grayish pallor deepened on his countenance while the fire of rancor burned with stronger gleam in his eagle eye.

The effect on the scarlet youth was scarcely noticeable, more than that the lips grew more rigid and compressed, and the right hand clutched the pistol-butt more tightly.  But no answer to the other’s summons.

“Justin McKenzie!” again said the young miner, calmly, “do you recognize me?”

The Scarlet Boy bows his head slowly, his eyes watchful lest the other shall catch the drop on him.

“Justin McKenzie, you do recognize me, even after the elapse of two long weary years, during which I have sought for you faithfully, but failed to find you until this hour.  We have at last met, and the time for settlement between you and me, Justin McKenzie, has arrived.  Here in this out-of-the-way gorge, we will settle the grudge I hold against you—­we will see who shall live and who shall die!”