If  he  had  betrayed  some  sign  of  elation  over  his
victories  she  believed  she  would  not  have  cared —
so  much.  But  his  cold,  calm,  matter-of-fact  at
titude,  which  seemed  to  imply  that  victory  for  him
self  was  inevitable  and  foreordained,  aroused  in
her  a  furious  resentment.
"I  told  you  to  go  away!"  she  said.
102  WEST!

"I  heard  you,  Miss  Hamilton."

He  moved  closer  to  her;  so  close  that  the  leather
chap  of  one  leg  brushed  her  skirt.  She  sat  rigid,
wondering,  resentful.
Then  his  right  hand  came  out,  the  ringers  gently
but  firmly  grasping  her  chin,  and  her  head  was
forced  slowly  back  until  she  had  no  choice  but  to
meet  his  gaze — which  she  did  with  flashing,  scorn
ful  eyes.
'^Crying!"  he  said.
Her  eyes  were  swimming  with  passionate  hatred
because  he  had  dared  to  do  what  he  was  doing  at
this  instant,  though  she  yielded  to  the  oddly  sub
missive  impulse  that  she  could  not  have  explained,
and  sat  there  looking  up  at  him  when  she  might  have
escaped  by  rising.  She  did  not  answer  but  merely
glared  at  him.
"Thought  Denver  had  been  shot?"  he  said.
"No !"  she  denied,  sharply.
"Me,  then ?"  he  said  gently.  "Oh,  don't!  There
was  n't  any  danger  that  Denver  would  shoot  me.
