Certainly no one had driven him. No logical reason existed for his visiting the Gold Mine. He would never drink again; he had but little money to gamble with, even had he been so inclined; he rather felt repugnance at the thought of seeing Lize Teller, or any other girl likely to come in. But something restless and keen within him accounted for his desire to meet old acquaintances there. Trying to analyze and understand it, Nevada got to the point of dismay. Foremost of all was a significant motive—he did not care to have Cash Burridge or his followers, especially Link Cawthorne, or anyone ever associated with Setter, think he would avoid them. Yet that was exactly what Nevada wanted to do. The mocking thing about it was the certainty that some kind of conflict would surely result. He could not avoid this. Deep in him was a feeling that belied his reluctance. Could it be a rebirth of old recklessness? He would have to fight that as something untrue to Hettie Ide. And as a wave of sweet and bitter emotion went over him, a musical rattling of the beaded-curtain door attracted his attention.

A girl entered. She had a pale face, and very large black eyes that seemed to blaze at Nevada.

THREE

She came slowly toward him, with the undulating movement of her lissome form that he remembered even better than her tragic face. Life had evidently been harsher than ever to Lize Teller.

Nevada rose and, doffing his sombrero, shook hands with her.

“Jim Lacy!” she ejaculated, with stress of feeling that seemed neither regret nor gladness.

“Howdy, Lize!” drawled Nevada. “Reckon you’re sort of surprised to see me heah.”

“Surprised? Yes. I thought you had more sense,” she returned.

“Wal, now Lize, that’s not kind of you,” he said, somewhat taken back. “An’ I reckon I just don’t get your hunch.”

“Sit down, Jim,” she rejoined, and as he complied she seated herself on the arm of his chair and leaned close. “I’ve been looking for you all afternoon. Lorenzo saw you ride in and stop at Mrs. Wood’s.”

“Ahuh! Wal, no wonder you wasn’t surprised.”

“But I am, Jim. Surprised at your nerve and more surprised at the look of you. What’s happened? You’ve improved so I don’t know you.”

She leaned against him with the old coquetry that was a part of her and which Nevada had once found pleasing, though he had never encouraged it.

“Thanks, Lize. Wal, there was shore room for improvement. Nothin’ much happened, except I’ve been workin’ an’ I quit the bottle.”

“That’s a lot, Jim, and I’m downright glad. I’ll fall in love with you all over again.”

“Please don’t, Lize,” he laughed. “I’ve quit throwin’ guns, too. An’ I reckon it’d be unhealthy for me, if you did.”

“Probably will be, boy. You sure have me guessing,” she replied, and she smoothed his hair and his scarf, while she gazed at him with deep, burning, inquisitive eyes. “But don’t try to lie to me about your gun tricks, sonny. You forget I’m the only one around Lineville who had you figured.”

“Lize, I don’t know as I remember that,” he said, dubiously.