"Over his curiosity regarding you--who you were; your presence here."

She pushed back her chair and stood up.

"A natural curiosity enough, surely. And you felt important enough to
rebuke him on my behalf? Is that what I am to understand?"

"Why," he explained, startled by her strange manner, "I informed him
that it was none of his business, and that if he mentioned your name in
my presence again there was liable to be trouble. We scrapped it out."

"You--you scrapped it out? You mean there was a fight over me--a
barroom squabble over me?"

"Not in the barroom; in the hotel office. Beaton drew a gun, and I had
to slug him."

"But the affair originated over me--my name was brought into it?" she
insisted. "You actually threatened him because he asked about me?"

"I reckon that was about how it started," he admitted slowly. "You
see, I rather thought I was a sorter friend of yours, and that I ought
to stand up for you."

"Did--did this man say anything against me?"

"No--not exactly; he--he just asked questions."

Her eyes were scornful, angry,