in the hills."

The boy accepted her decree under protest. He did not know what else to
do. Decision comes only with age, and he could hit on no policy that
would answer. Reluctantly he gave way.

"If you so much as touch her, you'll die for it," he gulped at Weaver,
in a sudden boyish passion. "We'll shoot you down like a dog."

"Or a coyote," suggested Buck, with a swift glance at Phyllis. "It seems
to be a family habit. I'm much obliged to you."

Phyl was in her brother's arms, frankly in tears.

It was all very well to tell him to go; it was quite another thing to
let him go without a good cry at losing him.

"Just say the word, and I'll see it out with you, sis," he told her.

"No, no! I want you to go. I wouldn't have you stay. Tell the boys it's
all right, and don't let them do anything rash."

Sanderson clenched his teeth, and looked at Weaver. "Oh, they'll do
nothing rash. Now they know you're here, they won't do a thing but sit
down and be happy, I expect."

The twins whispered together for a minute, then the boy kissed her, put
her from him suddenly, and strode away. From the door he called back two
words at the cattleman.