“I might have shot you！” she exclaimed. “You ran rightin between. You risked your life to save your pet！ That wasfine， Mr. Givens. I like a man who is kind to animals.”
Yes； there was even admiration in her gaze now. Afterall， there was a hero rising out of the ruins of the anti-climax. The look on Givens’s face would have secured hima high position in the S.P.C.A.
“I always loved ’em，” said he； “horses， dogs， Mexicanlions， cows， alligators—”
“I hate alligators，” instantly demurred Josefa； “crawly，muddy things！”
“Did I say alligators？” said Givens. “I meant antelopes，of course.”
Josefa’s conscience drove her to make further amends.
She held out her hand penitently. There was a bright，unshed drop in each of her eyes.
“Please forgive me， Mr. Givens， won’t you？ I’m only agirl， you know， and I was frightened at first. I’m very， verysorry I shot Bill. You don’t know how ashamed I feel. Iwouldn’t have done it for anything.”
Givens took the proffered hand. He held it for a timewhile he allowed the generosity of his nature to overcomehis grief at the loss of Bill. At last it was clear that he hadforgiven her.
“Please don’t speak of it any more， Miss Josefa. ’Twasenough to frighten any young lady the way Bill looked. I’llexplain it all right to the boys.”
“Are you really sure you don’t hate me？” Josefa camecloser to him impulsively. Her eyes were sweet—oh， sweetand pleading with gracious penitence. “I would hate anyonewho would kill my kitten. And how daring and kind of youto risk being shot when you tried to save him！ How very fewmen would have done that！” Victory wrested from defeat！
Vaudeville turned into drama！ Bravo， Ripley Givens！
It was now twilight. Of course Miss Josefa could notbe allowed to ride on to the ranch-house alone. Givensresaddled his pony in spite of that animal’s reproachfulglances， and rode with her. Side by side they gallopedacross the smooth grass， the princess and the man whowas kind to animals. The prairie odours of fruitful earthand delicate bloom were thick and sweet around them.
Coyotes yelping over there on the hill！ No fear. And yet—Josefa rode closer. A little hand seemed to grope. Givensfound it with his own. The ponies kept an even gait. Thehands lingered together， and the owner of one explained：
“I never was frightened before， but just think！ Howterrible it would be to meet a really wild lion！ Poor Bill！ I’mso glad you came with me！”
O’Donnell was sitting on the ranch gallery.
“Hello， Rip！” he shouted— “that you？”
“He rode in with me，” said Josefa. “I lost my way andwas late.”
“Much obliged，” called the cattle king. “Stop over， Rip，and ride to camp in the morning.”
But Givens would not. He would push on to camp.
There was a bunch of steers to start off on the trail atdaybreak. He said good-night， and trotted away.
An hour later， when the lights were out， Josefa， in hernight-robe， came to her door and called to the king in hisown room across the brick-paved hallway：
“Say， pop， you know that old Mexican lion they call the‘Gotch-eared Devil’ —the one that killed Gonzales， Mr.
Martin’s sheep herder， and about fifty calves on the Saladorange？ Well， I settled his hash this afternoon over at theWhite Horse Crossing. Put two balls in his head withmy .38 while he was on the jump. I knew him by the slicegone from his left ear that old Gonzales cut off with hismachete. You couldn’t have made a better shot yourself，daddy.”
“Bully for you！” thundered Whispering Ben from thedarkness of the royal chamber.
