“Oh, you are above that.  Don’t—­don’t kill any one here!”

“Miss Sampson, I hope I won’t.”  His voice seemed to check her.  I had been right in my estimate of her character—­young, untried, but all pride, fire, passion.  She was white then, and certainly beautiful.

Steele watched her, could scarcely have failed to see the white gleam of her beauty, and all that evidence of a quick and noble heart.

“Pardon me, please, Mr. Steele,” she said, recovering her composure.  “I am—­just a little overexcited.  I didn’t mean to be inquisitive.  Thank you for your confidence.  I’ve enjoyed your call, though your news did distress me.  You may rely upon me to talk to papa.”

That appeared to be a dismissal, and, bowing to her and Sally, the Ranger went out.  I followed, not having spoken.

At the end of the porch I caught up with Steele and walked out into the moonlight beside him.

Just why I did not now reveal my identity I could not say, for certainly I was bursting with the desire to surprise him, to earn his approval.  He loomed dark above me, appearing not to be aware of my presence.  What a cold, strange proposition this Ranger was!

Still, remembering the earnestness of his talk to Miss Sampson, I could not think him cold.  But I must have thought him so to any attraction of those charming girls.

Suddenly, as we passed under the shade of cottonwoods, he clamped a big hand down on my shoulder.

“My God, Russ, isn’t she lovely!” he ejaculated.

In spite of my being dumbfounded I had to hug him.  He knew me!

“Thought you didn’t swear!” I gasped.

Ridiculously those were my first words to Vaughn Steele.

“My boy, I saw you parading up and down the street looking for me,” he said.  “I intended to help you find me to-morrow.”

We gripped hands, and that strong feel and clasp meant much.

“Yes, she’s lovely, Steele,” I said.  “But did you look at the cousin, the little girl with the eyes?”

Then we laughed and loosed hands.

“Come on, let’s get out somewhere.  I’ve a million things to tell you.”

We went away out into the open where some stones gleamed white in the moonlight, and there, sitting in the sand, our backs against a rest, and with all quiet about us, we settled down for a long conference.

I began with Neal’s urgent message to me, then told of my going to the capitol—­what I had overheard when Governor Smith was in the adjutant’s office; of my interview with them; of the spying on Colonel Sampson; Neal’s directions, advice, and command; the ride toward San Antonio; my being engaged as cowboy by Miss Sampson; of the further ride on to Sanderson and the incident there; and finally how I had approached Sampson and then had thought it well to get his daughter into the scheme of things.

It was a long talk, even for me, and my voice sounded husky.