turesque, six feet of manhood could not help a girl in her extremity because he might "lose his job!"
Again, Ben Evans, hero, fell from his pedestal with a crash.
His refusal seemed so inconsistent, so at variance with the chivalry and courage of his action in the Hopedale Opera-house that it bewildered her. She had not dreamed he would hesitate when he understood.
Spiser was right, she thought in quick and sweeping condemnation, when he had boasted that he was boss of the L.X. outfit and everything and everybody upon it.
Nan said coldly:
"I couldn't think, then, of permitting you to get a horse for me—of talking any such risk on my account. We shall make out somehow, I've no doubt." She turned into the house.
Ben suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling that his reason for failing to respond which seemed so adequate and convincing to himself did not appear so to Nan.
"Wait a minute," he protested. "Don't start away from here afoot. You can't walk;
