“Russ, are you all right?” she whispered.

“Just at this moment I am,” I replied.

Sally gave me another little hug, and then, disengaging herself from my arms, she sat down beside me.

“I can only stay a minute.  Oh, it’s safe enough.  But I told Diane I was to meet you and she’s waiting to hear if Steele is—­is—­”

“Steele’s safe so far,” I interrupted.

“There were men coming and going all day.  Uncle Roger never appeared at meals.  He didn’t eat, Diane said.  George tramped up and down, smoking, biting his nails, listening for these messengers.  When they’d leave he’d go in for another drink.  We heard him roar some one had been shot and we feared it might be Steele.”

“No,” I replied, steadily.

“Did Steele shoot anybody?”

“No.  A rustler named March tried to draw on Steele, and someone in the crowd killed March.”

“Someone?  Russ, was it you?”

“It sure wasn’t.  I didn’t happen to be there.”

“Ah!  Then Steele has other men like you around him.  I might have guessed that.”

“Sally, Steele makes men his friends.  It’s because he’s on the side of justice.”

“Diane will be glad to hear that.  She doesn’t think only of Steele’s life.  I believe she has a secret pride in his work.  And I’ve an idea what she fears most is some kind of a clash between Steele and her father.”

“I shouldn’t wonder.  Sally, what does Diane know about her father?”

“Oh, she’s in the dark.  She got hold of papers that made her ask him questions.  And his answers made her suspicious.  She realizes he’s not what he has pretended to be all these years.  But she never dreams her father is a rustler chief.  When she finds that out—­” Sally broke off and I finished the sentence in thought.

“Listen, Sally,” I said, suddenly.  “I’ve an idea that Steele’s house will be attacked by the gang to-night, and destroyed, same as the jail was this afternoon.  These rustlers are crazy.  They’ll expect to kill him while he’s there.  But he won’t be there.  If you and Diane hear shooting and yelling to-night don’t be frightened.  Steele and I will be safe.”

“Oh, I hope so.  Russ, I must hurry back.  But, first, can’t you arrange a meeting between Diane and Steele?  It’s her wish.  She begged me to.  She must see him.”

“I’ll try,” I promised, knowing that promise would be hard to keep.

“We could ride out from the ranch somewhere.  You remember we used to rest on the high ridge where there was a shady place—­such a beautiful outlook?  It was there I—­I—­”

“My dear, you needn’t bring up painful memories.  I remember where.”

Sally laughed softly.  She could laugh in the face of the gloomiest prospects.  “Well, to-morrow morning, or the next, or any morning soon, you tie your red scarf on the dead branch of that high mesquite.  I’ll look every morning with the glass.  If I see the scarf, Diane and I will ride out.”