“You blessed little woman!  But considering this, how can I say to you what — tell you that which glorifies the very life in my frame.  How can I offer you a name tarnished by the suspicions of my fellow men?”

“Rand, I acknowledge no such allegations.  Oh, I may be lost to all sense of womanly reserve, but — "

“When my name is cleared, I shall hope to enter Paradise.  Till then I must not.  I cannot bring disgrace upon you.  I shall return to my old post of shotgun messenger — "

“Rand!  No!  Listen to me one moment.  Last evening Digger Dan came to this very place.  He told me that if you went back to the stage you would certainly be killed.  They have been robbing all summer.  It is said that Joaquin is in the mountains.”

“No, they are Tom Bell’s men.”

Jo glanced up, startled.  “Whoever it is, has sent you a warning.”

“Miz Halstead,” called a strident voice, “th’ stage’s jest in, an’ you’re paw’s took awful sick up on the Middle Fork, at his mine.”

“I shall have to go on the morning stage.  Will you not please — " to Rand.

“Jo, I do not fear death.  It is dishonor that maddens me, for your sake.  The snows have come.  They are already fitting runners to the stages.  The mails and the ‘dust’ must get through in spite of all.  I go out on the first sleigh; this one you must take.  This winter I shall vindicate my name, if it is humanly possible to do so.”  He kissed the end of one long curl of her hair, and was gone.

Some weeks later, during a lull between storms, Rand’s face lit up with the feeling which but one woman in the world could inspire, as the stage pulled in to Middle Fork.

“Father is not quite recovered, but I thought it best to get him out before we were snowed in.  Rand, Digger Dan came,” she added, in a whisper; ’the stage will be stopped today.  Yet, it is gathering for a storm.  I dare not stay.  What shall I do?”

“Come along.  I will protect you.”

Two miles further, as they topped a hill, Texas, the driver, pulled the laboring six far to the side.

“Why?” asked Rand.

“Cut, there,” answered Texas, “an’ it’s piled high with a drift.”

“Look out for stumps.”

“I’ve got ’em spotted,” muttered Tex.

“What’s that?” swinging his gun quickly to the right.  The horses plunged, snorting, quickly to the left, the sleigh hit a snow-covered stump, and it was only Tex’s expert driving that saved it from overturning.

“Some animal.  I saw his hide.”  A hide Rand had seen, but it was the coyote-skin coat of an Indian who had made one sign and instantly vanished.  Very quickly the dreaded halt came.

“Look out, Tex!  There’s a rifle barrel from behind that tree trunk.”

“Halt!”

“Halt it is.  There’s nothing we can do.”  Was it Jo’s presence in the stage below that made him give in without a struggle, or did he know that the Wells-Fargo box had vanished from under the driver’s seat?  Or was it knowledge of the horde of yelling Indians which rose from the snowy brush, and swooped down upon the shooting robbers?  Four of them were brought, in triumph, to the town on the stage.