“He’s on his way back.  A wounded man couldn’t be moved an’ he had to stay with him a while.  The man was Joe Yankie.  A messenger just got in to say he died.”

“Billie isn’t wounded?”

“No.  Not his fault, though.  When we had the rustlers cornered, he crawled in through the brush to their camp.  Fool business, I told him.  Never saw anything gamer.  Lucky for him Albeen had made his get-away.”

The eyes of the girl thanked the deputy for this indirect praise.  Little patches of red burned in her dusky cheeks.  The way to make a life friend of her was to be fond of Billie.

Lee changed the subject abruptly.  “Jack, you haven’t half the sense I thought you had.”

“Much obliged,” he answered sardonically.  She was looking straight at him and he knew what was in her mind.

“If I was a man—­and if the nicest girl in the world was in love with me—­I’d try not to be as stiff as a poker.”

“I’m as stiff as a poker, am I?”

“Yes.”  The dark eyes of the young woman were eager pools of light.  “She’s the truest-hearted girl I ever saw—­the best friend, the loyalest comrade.  I should think you’d be ashamed to set yourself up to judge her.”

“Of course, you’re not settin’ yourself up to judge me, Lee?”

“I’m going to tell you what I think.  The others are afraid of you because you can put on that high-and-mighty, stand-offish air.  Well, I’m not.”

“I see you’re not.”

“She told me all about it.  Since she was Polly Roubideau she had to help Jim escape.  Can’t you see that?  She knew he was innocent, and it turned out she was right.  Suppose she made a mistake—­and I don’t admit it for a minute.  Can’t you make allowance for other folks’ judgment being different from yours?  Are you never wrong yourself?”

“It isn’t a question of judgment.”

He hesitated and decided to say no more.  How could he tell Lee that Pauline had deliberately misled him to give Clanton a better chance of escape?  He had fought it out a hundred times in his mind, but he could not escape the conviction that she had made a tool of his love.

The girl went to the heart of the matter.  “Polly loves you, and she is breaking her heart because of your wretched pride.  If you don’t go straight to her and beg her pardon for your want of faith in her, you’re not half the man I think you are, Jack Goodheart.”

A warm glow of hope flushed through his blood.

“How do you know she loves me?”

“Because—­because—­” Lee stopped.  She did not intend to betray any confidences.  “I know it.  That’s enough.”

He threw away impulsively the prudent pride that he had been nourishing.  “Where can I find Polly?”

“You’re being invited to supper at my aunt’s this evening.  I’ll not be home for half an hour, but if you go right up, maybe you can find some one to entertain you.”