‘I could pinch you!’ cried Helen.  ‘If she robs you again I—­I——­’ She could think of no threat of punishment sufficient unto the crime.  Suddenly she pulled the door open.  ‘Come in here,’ she called to Alan.  And as he obeyed, leaving the baffled Sanchia without, Helen said swiftly:  ’See if you can’t talk reason into papa.  I’ll keep her out there.’  And she in turn passed out, again closing the door.

‘You little vixen!’ Sanchia’s cheeks were red with anger as, Helen’s manoeuvre complete, the girl stood regarding her with defiant eyes.  Sanchia’s hands clenched and the resultant impression given forth by her whole demeanour was that upon occasion the little widow might be swept into such passionate rage that she was prone to resort to primal, physical violence.  Helen, though her own cheeks burned, smiled loftily and made no answer.

From beyond the closed door came Alan’s eager voice.  Sanchia bent forward, straining her ears to hear; Helen, the light of battle flaring steadily higher in her eyes, began suddenly to sing, the same little broken snatches of song which not so long ago had irritated her impatient lover and which now confused the words spoken beyond the door and which made Sanchia furious.

‘Stand aside,’ commanded Sanchia.  ‘I am going in.’

Helen stood firm.  Then she saw that Sanchia meant what she said.  And, on the table near the discarded pick, she saw Longstreet’s big revolver.  She made a quick step forward, snatched it up in both hands and pointed it directly at Sanchia’s heaving breast.  Now the colour went out of Helen’s face and it grew very white, while her eyes darkened.

‘If you move a step toward that door,’ she threatened, ’I am going to shoot!’

Sanchia sneered.  Then she paused.  And finally she laughed contemptuously.

‘You little fool,’ she whispered back, cautious that no syllable might enter the adjoining room.  ’I don’t need to go rushing in there, after all.  And you know it.  That stuff,’ and she glanced briefly at the rock on the table, ’got into my blood for a second.  I’ll take my time now; and I’ll get what I want.’

As they stood in silence, Helen making no answer, they heard what the men were saying.

‘—­just this if nothing more,’ came the end of Howard’s entreaty.  ‘Don’t tell Sanchia.’

Promptly came the angry answer: 

’Mind your own business, young man!  And, until you are asked for advice, hold your tongue!’ At the end of the command the door snapped open and Longstreet popped into the room.

Sanchia, her cool poise regained, made no step toward him but contented herself by a slow comprehensive and sympathetic smile.  Howard came quickly to Helen, stooped to her and whispered: 

’I can’t do a thing with him.  But come outside with me a second; I think I know what to do.’

She flung down the heavy gun and went with him.  Ten paces from the cabin they stopped together.