’I’ll bet a man a dollar I’ve got your number, friends.  You are Professor James Edward Longstreet and his little daughter Helen!  Am I right?’

‘You are correct, sir,’ acknowledged the professor a trifle stiffly.  His eye did not rise, but clung in a fascinated, faintly accusing way to the gun which had betrayed him.

The stranger nodded and then lifted his hat for the ceremony while he presented himself.

‘Name of Howard,’ he announced breezily.  ’Alan Howard of the old Diaz Rancho.  Glad to know you both.’

‘It is a pleasure, I am sure, Mr. Howard,’ said the professor.  ’But, if you will pardon me, at this particular time of day——­’

Alan Howard laughed his understanding.

‘I’ll chase up to the pool and give Helen a drink of real water,’ he said lightly.  ‘Funny my mare’s name should be Helen, too, isn’t it?’ This directly into a pair of eyes which the growing light showed to be grey and attractive, but just now hostile.  ’Then, if you say the word, I’ll romp back and take you up on a cup of coffee.  And we’ll talk things over.’

He stooped forward in the saddle a fraction of an inch; his mare caught the familiar signal and leaped; they were gone, racing away across the sand which was flung up after them like spray.

‘Of all the fresh propositions!’ gasped Helen.

But she knew that he would not long delay his return, and so slipped quickly from under her blanket and hurried down to the water-hole to bathe her hands and face and set herself in order.  Her flying fingers found her little mirror; there wasn’t any smudge on her face, after all, and her hair wasn’t so terribly unbecoming that way; tousled, to be sure, but then, nice, curly hair can be tousled and still not make one a perfect hag.  It was odd about his mare being named Helen.  He must have thought the name pretty, for obviously he and his horse were both intimate and affectionate.  ‘Alan Howard.’  Here, too, was rather a nice name for a man met by chance out in the desert.  She paused in the act of brushing her hair.  Was she to get an explanation of last night’s puzzle?  Was Mr. Howard the man who had lighted the other fire?

The professor’s taciturnity was of a pronounced order this morning.  Now and then as he made his own brief and customarily untidy toilet, he turned a look of accusation upon the big Colt lying on his bed.  Before drawing on his boots he bestowed upon his toe a long glance of affection; the bullet that had passed within a very few inches of this adjunct of his anatomy had emphasized a toe’s importance.  He had never realized how pleasant it was to have two big toes, all one’s own and unmarred.  By the time the foot had been coaxed and jammed down into his new boot the professor’s good humour was on the way to being restored; a man of one thought at the time, due to his long habit of concentration, his emotion was now one of a subdued rejoicing.  It needed but the morning cup of coffee to set him beaming upon the world.