smoldering eyes of the man and read there the honesty she had secretly believed all the time she would uncover did she care to try. The soundness and wholesomeness of the man's love flattered her; instinctively the guile in her—birthright of her sex—had pushed her on to force this disclosure even though she was unconscious of the fact that her own stratagem had provoked cause for anger. Hilma believed she had every reason to feel that anger; so much, at least, had been genuine. As for the rest, the girl knew naught but cold selfishness had prompted her to accept Zang's offer of protection back there in her cabin. Even as she accepted, knowing the man would construe her act to be a surrender of love, Hilma resented his misreading of this spurious coin. So the feminine heart of her, unmoved as yet by any semblance of passion, had dictated a bargain whereby she should gain all without paying a stiver. That chance of a bargain still remained, she believed.
Hilma picked up the bridle and urged Christian into a trot along the way they had come—along the road to the Spout. Zang rode by her side. He was silent. The outlaw who had successfully built up his kingdom beyond
