He had stamped the fire out of her in an instant. She drooped visibly. “Yes--yes, they do,” she faltered. “I don't defend them, either. Dad had nothing to do with that. He doesn't shoot in the back.” “I'm glad to hear it,” he retorted cheerfully. “And I'm glad to hear that your friends the enemy didn't know it was a girl they were attacking. Fact is, I thought you were a boy myself when first I happened in and you fanned me with your welcome.” “I didn't know. I hadn't time to think. So I let fly. But I was so excited I likely missed you a mile.” He took off his felt hat and examined with interest a bullet hole through the rim. “If it was a mile, I'd hate to have you miss me a hundred yards,” he commented, with a little ripple of laughter. “I didn't! Did I? As near as that?” She caught her hands together in a sudden anguish for what might have been. “Don't you care, ma'am. A miss is as good as a mile. It ain't the first time I've had my hat ventilated. I mentioned it, so you wouldn't get discouraged at your shooting. It's plenty good. Good enough to suit me. I wouldn't want it any better.” “What about the man I wounded.” she asked apprehensively. “Is he--is it all right?” “Haven't you heard?” “Heard what?” He could see the terror in her eyes. “How it all came out?” He could not tell why he did it, any more than he could tell why he had attempted no denial to the sheriff of responsibility for the death of Faulkner, but as he looked at this girl he shifted the burden from her shoulders to his. “You got your man in the ankle. I had worse luck after you left. They buried mine.” “Oh!” From her lips a little cry of pain forced itself. “It wasn't your fault. It was for us you did it. Oh, why did they attack us?” “I did what I had to do. There is no blame due either you or me for it,” he said, with quiet conviction. “I know. But it seems so dreadful. And then they put you in jail--and you broke out! Wasn't that it?” “That was the way of it, Miss Arlie. How did you know?” “Henry Speed's note to father said you had broken jail. Dad wasn't at home. You know, the round-up is on now and he has to be there. So I saddled, and came right away.” “That was right good of you.” “Wasn't it?” There was a softened, almost tender, jeer in her voice. “Since you only saved our lives!” “I ain't claiming all that, Miss Arlie.” “Then I'll claim it for you. I suppose you gave yourself up to them and explained how it was after we left.” “Not exactly that. I managed to slip away, through the sage. It was mo'ning before I found the road again. Soon as I did, a deputy tagged me, and said, 'You're mine.' He spoke for me so prompt and seemed so sure about what he was saying, I didn't argue the matter with him.” He laughed gayly. “And then?”