Dan Barry lived from day to day, glutting himself with a ride in the wind, or the whistle of a far-off bird, or the wail of a mountain-lion through the night.

Each instant was to him complete, but the eye of Kate looked far away and saw the night when this daughter of hers should sit holding an infant by such a fire, and her heart was both empty and full.
It was no wonder, then, that she heard the first sound long before either Haines or Buck Daniels, for her mind was on guard against dangers which might threaten her baby.

It was a faint slipping, scratching noise on the veranda; then a breathing at the front door.

Kate turned, and the men followed the terror of her eyes in time to see the door fall open, and a broad paw appear in the interval.

The snaky head of Black Bart thrust into the room.
Without a word, Daniels drew his gun.
"Wait!" commanded Kate.