A story of the Old West in which a girl from the East finds herself confronted with a strange type of man dwelling in the shadow of an ancient grudge. Dakota, the man, first convinces her that he is a brute beyond redemption and then gradually wins her back to the belief in his own essential manliness. Before this happens, however, there has been an attempted bribe, an attempted murder that seems the response to the bribe and a wild ride through the night, that ends at Dakota's shack.
cter. They were blue--a steely, fathomless blue; baffling, mocking; swimming--as she looked into them now--with an expression that she could not attempt to analyze. One thing she saw in them only,--recklessness--and she drew a slow, deep breath.
They were standing very close together. He caught the deep-drawn breath and looked quickly at her, his eyes alight and narrowed with an expression which was a curious mingling of quizzical humor and grim enjoyment. Her own eyes did not waver, though his were boring into hers steadily, as though he were trying to read her thoughts.
"Afraid?" he questioned, with a suggestion of sarcasm in the curl of his lips.
Sheila stiffened, her eyes flashing defiance. She studied him steadily, her spirit battling his over the few feet that separated them. Then she spoke deliberately, evenly: "I am not afraid of you!"
"That's right." A gratified smile broke on the straight, hard lips. A new expression came into his eyes--admiration. "You've got nerve, ma'a
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