“And my companion, here—?”

“I will place under the charge of Miss Anita for the present, where she will receive hospitable treatment.”

Fearless Frank started as though he had been struck a violent blow; his face grew very white; his eyes dilated; he trembled in every joint.

“Anita!” he gasped—­“Anita!”

“I believe that is what I said!” Redburn could not understand the youth’s agitation.  He knew that the sister of Ned Harris had a secret; was this Fearless Frank in any way connected with it, and if so, how?  “Do you know her?”

“Her other name is—­”

“Harris—­Anita Harris, in full.  Do you know her, or aught of her?”

“I—­I—­I did, once!” was the slow reply.  “Where is she; I want to see her?”

Redburn took a moment to consider.

Would it be best to permit a meeting between the two until he should be able to learn something more definite concerning the secret?  If Ned Harris were here would he sanction such a meeting?  No! something told the young miner that he would not; something warned him that it could result in no good to allow the scarlet youth an interview with sad, sweet-faced Anita.

“You cannot see her!” he at last said, decidedly.  “There is a reason why you two should never meet again, and if you remain in the gulch, as you will be obliged to, for the present, you must give me your word of honor that you will not go near yonder cabin.”

Fearless Frank had expected this; therefore he was not surprised.  Neither did Redburn know how close he had shied his stone at the real truth.

“I promise,” McKenzie said, after a moment’s deliberation, “on my honor, that I will not approach the cabin, providing you will furnish me my meals and lodgings elsewhere.  If Anita comes to me, what then?”

“I will see that she does not,” Redburn answered, positively.  Gradually he was assuming full control of things, in the absence of Harris, himself.  “Miss Terry, you may ride down to yonder cabin, and tell Anita I sent you.  Pilgrim, you can come along with me.”

“No; I will accompany Alice as far as where your forces are stationed,” said Frank, and then they rode down the slope, Redburn turning toward where the road-agents sat upon their horses in a compact body, with Deadwood Dick at their head.

As the miner drew nigh and came to a standstill, the Prince of the road rode forward to his side.

“Well—?” he said, interrogatively, his voice heavy yet pleasant; “I suppose you desire to know what bizness we’ve got in your cornfield, eh, stranger?”

“That’s about the dimensions of it, yes,” replied Redburn, at once conceiving a liking for the young road-agent, in whom he thought he saw a true gentleman, in the disguise of a devil.  “I came over to learn the object you have in view, in invading our little valley, if you have no objections in telling.”