"Oh, if you are serious then, I say no--no--no! I forbid you. I don't believe I'll be robbed of my property."
"Wal, supposin' Beasley does put you off--an' takes possession. What 're you goin' to say then?" demanded the cowboy, in slow, cool deliberation.
"I'd say the same then as now," she replied.
He bent his head thoughtfully while his red hands smoothed his sombrero.
"Shore you girls haven't been West very long," he muttered, as if apologizing for them. "An' I reckon it takes time to learn the ways of a country."
"West or no West, I won't have fights deliberately picked, and men shot, even if they do threaten me," declared Helen, positively.
"All right, Miss Nell, shore I respect your wishes," he returned. "But I'll tell you this. If Beasley turns you an' Bo out of your home--wal, I'll look him up on my own account."
Helen could only gaze at him as he backed to the door, and she thrilled and shuddered at what seemed his loyalty to her, his love for Bo, and that which was inevitable in himself.
"Reckon you might save us all some trouble--now if you'd--just get mad--an' let me go after thet greaser."
"Greaser! Do you mean Beasley?"
"Shore. He's a half-breed. He was born in Magdalena, where I heard folks say nary one of his parents was no good."
"That doesn't matter. I'm thinking of humanity of law and order. Of what is right."
"Wal, Miss Nell, I'll wait till you get real mad--or till Beasley--"
"But, my friend, I'll not get mad," interrupted Helen. "I'll keep my temper."
"I'll bet you don't," he retorted. "Mebbe you think you've none of Bo in you. But I'll bet you could get so mad--once you started--thet you'd be turrible. What 've you got them eyes for, Miss Nell, if you ain't an Auchincloss?"
He was smiling, yet he meant every word. Helen felt the truth as something she feared.
"Las Vegas, I won't bet. But you--you will always come to me--first--if there's trouble."
"I promise," he replied, soberly, and then went out.
Helen found that she was trembling, and that there was a commotion in her breast. Carmichael had frightened her. No longer did she hold doubt of the gravity of the situation. She had seen Beasley often, several times close at hand, and once she had been forced to meet him. That time had convinced her that he had evinced personal interest in her. And on this account, coupled with the fact that Riggs appeared to have nothing else to do but shadow her, she had been slow in developing her intention of organizing and teaching a school for the children of Pine. Riggs had become rather a doubtful celebrity in the settlements. Yet his bold, apparent badness had made its impression. From all reports he spent his time gambling, drinking, and bragging. It was no longer news in Pine what his intentions were toward Helen Rayner. Twice he had ridden up to the ranch-house, upon one occasion securing an interview with Helen. In spite of her contempt and indifference, he was actually influencing her life there in Pine. And it began to appear that the other man, Beasley, might soon direct stronger significance upon the liberty of her actions.