From the clump of firs a young woman was descending, and Jed went to meet her. “You rode splendidly,” she told him with vivid eyes. “Were you hurt when you were jammed again the wagon? I mean, does it still hurt?” For she noticed that he walked with a limp. “I reckon I can stand the grief without an amputation. Arlie, I got something to tell you.” She looked at him in her direct fashion and waited. “It's about your new friend.” He drew from a pocket some leaves torn out of a magazine. His finger indicated a picture. “Ever see that gentleman before?” The girl looked at it coolly. “It seems to be Mr. Fraser taken in his uniform; Lieutenant Fraser, I should say.” The cattleman's face fell. “You know, then, who he is, and what he's doing here.” Without evasion, her gaze met his. “I understood him to say he was an officer in the Texas Rangers. You know why he is here.” “You're right, I do. But do you?” “Well, what is it you mean? Out with it, Jed,” she demanded impatiently. “He is here to get a man wanted in Texas, a man hiding in this valley right now.” “I don't believe it,” she returned quickly. “And if he is, that's not your business or mine. It's his duty, isn't it?” “I ain't discussing that. You know the law of the valley, Arlie.” “I don't accept that as binding, Jed. Lots of people here don't. Because Lost Valley used to be a nest of miscreants, it needn't always be. I don't see what right we've got to set ourselves above the law.” “This valley has always stood by hunted men when they reached it. That's our custom, and I mean to stick to it.” “Very well. I hold you to that,” she answered quickly. “This man Fraser is a hunted man. He's hunted because of what he did for me and dad. I claim the protection of the valley for him.” “He can have it--if he's what he says he is. But why ain't he been square with us? Why didn't he tell who he was?” “He told me.” “That ain't enough, Arlie. If he did, you kept it quiet. We all had a right to know.” “If you had asked him, he would have told you.” “I ain't so sure he would. Anyhow, I don't like it. I believe he is here to get the man I told you of. Mebbe that ain't all.” “What more?” she scoffed. “This fellow is the best range detective in the country. My notion is he's spying around about that Squaw Creek raid.” Under the dusky skin she flushed angrily. “My notion is you're daffy, Jed. Talk sense, and I'll listen to you. You haven't a grain of proof.” “I may get some yet,” he told her sulkily. She laughed her disbelief. “When you do, let me know.” And with that she gave her pony the signal to more forward. Nevertheless, she met the ranger at the foot of the little hill with distinct coldness. When he came up to shake hands, she was too busy dismounting to notice. “Your heart must be a good deal better. I suppose Lost Valley agrees with you.” She had swung down on the other side of the horse, and her glance at him across the saddle seat was like a rapier thrust.