“Diane, your father and I broke in on a little Romeo and Juliet scene,” said George Wright with a leer.  Then Miss Sampson’s dark gaze swept from George to her father, then to Sally’s attire and her shamed face, and finally to me.  What effect the magnificent wrath and outraged trust in her eyes had upon me!

“Russ, do they dare insinuate you came to Sally’s room?” For myself I could keep silent, but for Sally I began to feel a hot clamoring outburst swelling in my throat.

“Sally confessed it, Diane,” replied Wright.

“Sally!” A shrinking, shuddering disbelief filled Miss Sampson’s voice.

“Diane, I told you I loved him—­didn’t I?” replied Sally.  She managed to hold up her head with a ghost of her former defiant spirit.

“Miss Sampson, it’s a—­” I burst out.

Then Sally fainted.  It was I who caught her.  Miss Sampson hurried to her side with a little cry of distress.

“Russ, your hand’s called,” said Sampson.  “Of course you’ll swear the moon’s green cheese.  And I like you the better for it.  But we know now, and you can save your breath.  If Sally hadn’t stuck up so gamely for you I’d have shot you.  But at that I wasn’t looking for you.  Now clear out of here.”  I picked up my gun from the bureau and dropped it in its sheath.  For the life of me I could not leave without another look at Miss Sampson.  The scorn in her eyes did not wholly hide the sadness.  She who needed friends was experiencing the bitterness of misplaced trust.  That came out in the scorn, but the sadness—­I knew what hurt her most was her sorrow.

I dropped my head and stalked out.

Chapter 10

A SLAP IN THE FACE

When I got out into the dark, where my hot face cooled in the wind, my relief equaled my other feelings.  Sampson had told me to clear out, and although I did not take that as a dismissal I considered I would be wise to leave the ranch at once.  Daylight might disclose my footprints between the walls, but even if it did not, my work there was finished.  So I went to my room and packed my few belongings.

The night was dark, windy, stormy, yet there was no rain.  I hoped as soon as I got clear of the ranch to lose something of the pain I felt.  But long after I had tramped out into the open there was a lump in my throat and an ache in my breast.  And all my thought centered round Sally.

What a game and loyal little girl she had turned out to be!  I was absolutely at a loss concerning what the future held in store for us.  I seemed to have a vague but clinging hope that, after the trouble was over, there might be—­there must be—­something more between us.

Steele was not at our rendezvous among the rocks.  The hour was too late.  Among the few dim lights flickering on the outskirts of town I picked out the one of his little adobe house but I knew almost to a certainty that he was not there.  So I turned my way into the darkness, not with any great hope of finding Steele out there, but with the intention of seeking a covert for myself until morning.