To avoid a splashing team, Dextry pulled his companion close in against the entrance to the Northern saloon, standing before her protectingly.

Although it was late in the afternoon the Bronco Kid had just arisen and was now loafing preparatory to the active duties of his profession.  He was speaking with the proprietor when Dextry and the girl sought shelter just without the open door, so he caught a fair though fleeting glimpse of her as she flashed a curious look inside.  She had never been so close to a gambling-hall before, and would have liked to peer in more carefully had she dared, but her companion moved forward.  At the first look the Bronco Kid had broken off in his speech and stared at her as though at an apparition.  When she had vanished, he spoke to Reilly: 

“Who’s that?”

Reilly shrugged his shoulders, then without further question the Kid turned back towards the empty theatre and out of the back door.

He moved nonchalantly till he was outside, then with the speed of a colt ran down the narrow planking between the buildings, turned parallel to the front street, leaped from board to board, splashed through puddles of water till he reached the next alley.  Stamping the mud from his shoes and pulling down his sombrero, he sauntered out into the main thoroughfare.

Dextry and his companion had crossed to the other side and were approaching, so the gambler gained a fair view of them.  He searched every inch of the girl’s face and figure, then, as she made to turn her eyes in his direction, he slouched away.  He followed, however, at a distance, till he saw the man leave her, then on up to the big hotel he shadowed her.  A half-hour later he was drinking in the Golden Gate bar-room with an acquaintance who ministered to the mechanical details behind the hotel counter.

“Who’s the girl I saw come in just now?” he inquired.

“I guess you mean the Judge’s niece.”

Both men spoke in the dead, restrained tones that go with their callings.

“What’s her name?”

“Chester, I think.  Why?  Look good to you, Kid?”

Although the other neither spoke nor made sign, the bartender construed his silence as acquiescence and continued, with a conscious glance at his own reflection while he adjusted his diamond scarf-pin:  “Well, she can have me!  I’ve got it fixed to meet her.”

“Bah!  I guess not,” said the Kid, suddenly, with an inflection that startled the other from his preening.  Then, as he went out, the man mused: 

“Gee!  Bronco’s got the worst eye in the camp!  Makes me creep when he throws it on me with that muddy look.  He acted like he was jealous.”

At noon the next day, as he prepared to go to the claim, Dextry’s partner burst in upon him.  Glenister was dishevelled, and his eyes shone with intense excitement.

“What d’you think they’ve done now?” he cried, as greeting.