And in his eyes
laughter--and something sweeter--lurked. If Sir Redmond had wealth to
fight with, Keith's weapon was far and away more dangerous, for it was
the irresistible love of a masterful man--the love that sweeps obstacles
away like straws.
"I am not interested in train-robberies," Beatrice told him, her eyes
still clouded with trouble. "I want to talk about this lease."
"They got one fellow the next day, and another got rattled and gave
himself up; but the leader of the gang, one of Montana's pet outlaws, is
still ranging somewhere in the hills. You want to be careful about
riding off alone; you ought to let some one--me, for instance--go along
to look after you."
"Pshaw!" said his Heart's Desire, smiling reluctantly. "I'm not afraid.
Do you suppose, if Sir Redmond had known--"
"Those fellows made quite a haul--almost enough to lease the whole
country, if they wanted to. Something over fifty thousand dollars--and a
strong box full of sand, that the messenger was going to fool them with.
He did, all right; but they weren't so slow. They hustled around and got
the money, and he lost his sand into the bargain."
"Was that meant for a pun?" Beatrice blinked her big eyes at him. "If
you're quite through with the train-robbers, perhaps you will tell me
how--"
"I'm glad old Mother Nature didn't give every woman an odd dimple
beside the mouth," Keith observed, reaching for her hat, and running a
ribbon caressingly through his fingers.
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