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"Do you want to see him?" I gathered my horse.

I made no reply. He looked momentous, leaned to me sidewise with a hand horizontally across his mouth, and whispered a name. It was new to me. "Charlie Toliver?" I murmured, for we were at the tent door.

The smoker twinkled. "You're different from Ned Ferry," he said.

The ladies smiled; I glowered. "Take those horses by their heads and turn them to me!"

An instant his superb eye resented, but then he pleasantly did my bidding. "Suits me well; rather chance it with you than with those I've just left."

I almost leaped from the ground in consternation. My whole frame throbbed, my mouth fell open, my tongue was tied.

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