It occurred to her that there was something elusive, something not quite frank, about the replies of this young man. Her glance raked him again and swept up the details of his person. One of them that impressed itself upon her mind was the absence of a finger on his right hand. Another was that he was a walking arsenal. This startled her, though she was not yet afraid. She relapsed into silence, to which he seemed willing to consent. Once and again her glance swept him. He looked a tough, weather-beaten Westerner, certainly not a man whom a woman need be afraid to meet alone on the plains, but the oftener she looked the more certain she became that he was not a casual puncher busy at the legitimate work of his craft. “Do you—live near here?” she asked presently. “I live under my hat, ma’am,” he told her. “Sometimes near here, sometimes not so near.” This told her exactly nothing. “How far did you say it was to the Rocking Chair?” “I didn’t say.” At the sound of a horses footfall she turned, and she saw that whereas they had been two, now they were three. The newcomer was a slender, graceful man, dark and lithe, with quick, piercing eyes, set deep in the most reckless, sardonic face she had ever seen. The man bowed, with a sweep of his hat almost derisive. “Miss Mackenzie, I believe.” She met him with level eyes that confessed no fear. “Who are you, sir?” “They call me Wolf Leroy.” Her heart sank. “You and he are the men that held up the Limited.” “If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty thousand dollars. We’ll collect now,” he told her, with a silky smile and a glitter of white, even teeth. “What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?” “I didn’t say that. We’ll put it up to your father.” “My father?” “He’ll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his daughter.” He let his bold eyes show their admiration. “And she’s worth every cent of it.” “Do you mean—” She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes and broke off. There was no need to ask him what he meant. “That’s what I mean exactly, ma’am. You’re welcome to the hospitality of Hidden Valley. What’s ours is yours. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, but I reckon _you’re not welcome to go whenever you want to_—not till we get that thirty thousand.” “You talk as if he were a millionaire,” she told him scornfully. “The major’s got friends that are. If it’s a showdown he’ll dig the dough up. I ain’t a bit worried about that. His brother, Webb, will come through.” “Why should he?” She stood as straight and unbending as a young pine, courage regnant in the very poise of the fine head. “You daren’t harm a hair of my head, and he knows it. For your life, you daren’t.” His eyes glittered. Wolf Leroy was never a safe man to fling a challenge at. “Don’t you be too sure of that, my dear. There ain’t one thing on this green earth I daren’t do if I set my mind to it. And your friends know it.”