“Now listen to me,” he said. “I’m going to give you a little scolding: you must forget all this business; it just makes you fearful and unhappy. The past is over, and he’s out of your life for good. Look at it that way. 176 Consider the thing as a bad dream, done with and no more important. That’s ‘the right view to take’”––he paused, then added softly––“Janet.”
“How strong-souled you are!” she whispered.
Strong, in truth, he seemed. Ignoring danger he had come swift on Sorenson’s track and rescued her, saved her, kept her clean from her assailant’s infamous brutishness. The one was a knave and a beast; but he, Steele Weir, was a man, clear to see, quick to act, hard towards enemies, gentle to friends. Every particle a man––sure of himself, and fearless, and true-hearted, and firm of soul.
She pressed her hands tight against her breast. He was a man one could love and honor. “Cold Steel” Weir they called him––and, she divined, his love if ever given would be as lasting as hoops of steel.
CHAPTER XVIII
IN THE NIGHT WATCHES
A light still burned in the Johnson ranch house, late as was the hour, when the car swung round a copse of aspens and brought it in view. Johnson himself came forth at sound of the automobile, with a sleepy Mary following.
“I wouldn’t go to bed, of course, knowing you were to come back,” said he. But his true reason appeared in his added words, “I was just about ready to saddle a horse and head up there myself. Mighty glad to see you safe back, Miss Hosmer. Mary has had some coffee on the fire ever since Weir went along, knowing you’d be cold and worn out.”