“Tana, don’t meet this man again,” he said, pleadingly. “Trust me to judge for you. I don’t want to be harsh with you. I don’t want you to go away with hard thoughts against me. But this has got to stop—you must promise me.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’d look for the man, and he never would meet you again.”
A little shiver ran over her as he spoke. She knew what he meant, and, despite her bitter words last night to her visitor, the thought was horrible to her that Dan—
She covered her face with her hands and turned away.
“Don’t do that, little girl,” he said, and laid his hand on her arm. “’Tana!”
She flung off his hand as though it stung her, and into her mind flashed remembrance of Jake Emmons from Spokane—of him and his words.
“Don’t touch me!” she half sobbed. “Don’t you say another word to me! I am going away to-morrow, and I have promised to marry Max Lyster.”
His hand dropped to his side, and his face shone white in the wan glimmer of the stars.
“You have promised that?” he said, at last, drawing his breath hard through his shut teeth. “Well—it is right, I suppose—right. Come! I will take you back to him now. He is the best one to guard you. Come!”