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"I couldn't let you turn an American over to General Villa," she said, "no matter

what he had done."

"I liked your spirit," said the man. "You're the kind o' girl I ben lookin' fer all my

life--one with nerve an' grit, an' you got 'em both. You liked thet bookkeepin'

critter, an' he wasn't half a man. I like you an' I am a man, ef I do say so myself."

The girl drew back in astonishment.

Mr. Grayson!" she exclaimed. "You are forgetting yourself."

"No I ain't," he cried hoarsely. "I love you an' I'm goin' to have you. You'd love me

too ef you knew me better."

He took a step forward and grasped her arm, trying to draw her to him. The girl

pushed him away with one hand, and with the other struck him across the face.

Grayson dropped her arm, and as he did so she drew herself to her full height

and looked him straight in the eyes.

"You may go now," she said, her voice like ice. "I shall never speak of this to

anyone--provided you never attempt to repeat it."

The man made no reply. The blow in the face had cooled his ardor temporarily,

but had it not also served another purpose?--to crystallize it into a firm and

inexorable resolve.

When he had departed Barbara turned and entered the house.

243

The Mucker