"I'll bank you up to five hundred."

"That's not the right thing for a young lady to do, is it?" queried the
gambler. "Havin' truck wit' my kind o' people. Me--I'll do anything,
but a young lady, now--"

"Please do not compare me with Mrs. Pennycook" Donna pleaded. "I am not
the guardian of San Pasqual's morals. I'll stake you because I like you
and I don't care who knows it--if you don't."

"You're a brick" the gambler declared. "I don't need your money, you
blessed woman. I'm 'fat'" and he waved a thousand-dollar bill at her.
"I did ride into San Pasqual on a freight, but I did it from choice,
an' not necessity. The brakie was an old friend o' mine an' asked me to
ride in wit' him. But all the same it's grand to think that there's
women like you in this tough old world. It helps out a heap. You're
just like your poor mother--a real lady an' no mistake."

Donna blushed. She was embarrassed, despite the earnest praise of
Harley P. She gave him her hand. He took it with inward trembling, lest
she might be seen shaking hands with him and dishonored. She said good-
night.

"Walkin' home alone?" Harley P. was much concerned. "Not that I'm
fishin' for an invitation to see you safe to the Hat Ranch, because
that'd start talk, an' anyhow I ain't one o' the presumin' kind an' you
know it; but it's dark an' the zephyr's blowin' like sixty, an' if
there was one hobo on that freight I come in on there was a dozen."

"Why, I didn't realize it was so late," Donna answered. "I'll have to