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With a gasp Helen flashed her eyes back to Dale He had seen her--was reaching an ar almost at her feet Jeff Mulvey--her uncle's old foreun lay near his inert hand The other arb proclaimed him a Mexican He was not yet dead Then Helen, as she felt Dale's arm encircle her, looked farther, because she could not prevent it--looked on at that strange figure against the bar--this boy who had been such a friend in her hour of need--this naive and frank sweetheart of her sister's

She saw a man noild, white, intense as fire, with some terrible cool kind of deadliness in his mien His left elbow rested upon the bar, and his hand held a glass of red liquor The big gun, lon in his other hand, seemed as steady as if it were a fixture

"Heah's to thet--half-breed Beasley an' his outfit!"

Car eyes held the crowd; then with savage action of terrible passion he flung the glass at the quivering for Mexican on the floor

Helen felt herself slipping All seeh she knew he held her Then she fainted