In a quick ensuing silence Miss Sampson rose, white as her dress.  The young women present stared in astonishment and their partners showed excitement.

“Miss Sampson, I came to search your house!” panted Steele, courteously, yet with authority.

I disengaged myself from Sally, who was clinging to my hands, and I stepped forward out of the corner.  Steele had been running.  Why did he hold his coat like that?  I sensed action, and the cold thrill animated me.

Miss Sampson’s astonishment was succeeded by anger difficult to control.

“In the absence of my father I am mistress here.  I will not permit you to search my house.”

“Then I regret to say I must do so without your permission,” he said sternly.

“Do not dare!” she flashed.  She stood erect, her bosom swelling, her eyes magnificently black with passion.  “How dare you intrude here?  Have you not insulted us enough?  To search my house to-night—­to break up my party—­oh, it’s worse than outrage!  Why on earth do you want to search here?  Ah, for the same reason you dragged a poor innocent man into my father’s court!  Sir, I forbid you to take another step into this house.”

Steele’s face was bloodless now, and I wondered if it had to do with her scathing scorn or something that he hid with his hand closing his coat that way.

“Miss Sampson, I don’t need warrants to search houses,” he said.  “But this time I’ll respect your command.  It would be too bad to spoil your party.  Let me add, perhaps you do me a little wrong.  God knows I hope so.  I was shot by a rustler.  He fled.  I chased him here.  He has taken refuge here—­in your father’s house.  He’s hidden somewhere.”

Steele spread wide his coat lapels.  He wore a light shirt, the color of which in places was white.  The rest was all a bloody mass from which dark red drops fell to the floor.

“Oh!” cried Miss Sampson.

Scorn and passion vanished in the horror, the pity, of a woman who imagined she saw a man mortally wounded.  It was a hard sight for a woman’s eyes, that crimson, heaving breast.

“Surely I didn’t see that,” went on Steele, closing his coat.  “You used unforgettable words, Miss Sampson.  From you they hurt.  For I stand alone.  My fight is to make Linrock safer, cleaner, a better home for women and children.  Some day you will remember what you said.”

How splendid he looked, how strong against odds.  How simple a dignity fitted his words.  Why, a woman far blinder than Diane Sampson could have seen that here stood a man.

Steele bowed, turned on his heel, and strode out to vanish in the dark.

Then while she stood bewildered, still shocked, I elected to do some rapid thinking.

How seriously was Steele injured?  An instant’s thought was enough to tell me that if he had sustained any more than a flesh wound he would not have chased his assailant, not with so much at stake in the future.