“I don’t think that you’re what you’re pertendin’ to be,” she told him. “I think that you’re jes’ a deceiver. All men aire deceivers, but they deceive in diff’rent ways. Nicholas deceived me by makin’ me think that he loved me so well he couldn’t never leave me, and then he up and run away fust chance he got. But you’re diff’rent from him. You’re a-deceivin’ as to who ye aire, and as to why you’re livin’ out in this country. Now, ain’t ye?” “Woman, stop your chatter!” he cried. “A woman’s tongue was made fer talkin’,” she snapped. “I don’t shet up until I want to. And I ain’t goin’ to want to until I know if you ain’t a deceiver.” Nomad grinned while Pizen Kate was thus expressing herself; but it was observable, at the same time, that he paid close attention to Latimer’s comments, and seemed disappointed when nothing came of Pizen Kate’s tongue-wagging. Buffalo Bill also listened closely; for he, too, had the feeling that John Latimer was not all he professed to be. There was a good deal of timbered land along the base of the hills, extending well out upon the mesa where Latimer had his home. In the open, treeless mesa there was danger of being seen by the pursuing redskins, and for that reason Buffalo Bill called another halt. It seemed advisable that a thorough look about the country should be taken, and for this purpose both Buffalo Bill and Nick Nomad separated from the others and set forth, going in different directions. Thus Pizen Kate and John Latimer were left behind. Hardly were Nomad and Buffalo Bill out of sight when Latimer rose from the ground where he had been resting, and strode about, looking hither and thither in a restless manner. Pizen Kate had her keen and snappy eyes on him. “I’ve allers heerd,” she declared, “that when men’s consciences is hurtin’ ’em bad they git fidgety, same’s you aire now. And I’ve allers heerd, likewise, that confession is good fer a hurtin’ conscience. So, if you’ve anything that’s settin’ too hard on yer mind, why don’t ye tell me about it, and mebbe I kin help ye some. I allers git the confidences of everybody in the community where I’ve lived these twenty years back, and I reckon that ought to prove that in comfortin’ I ain’t no slow coach.” It was a queer speech, and it had no effect on John Latimer, except to irritate him. “Woman, hold your tongue!” he commanded. “Well, not at _your_ orderin’!” she snapped. “I’ve been watchin’ ye, and somethin’s troublin’ you, er I ain’t a jedge. Now, what is it?” “I won’t listen to your chatter!” he asserted in wrath, and walked away. Though she soon started to follow him, for the purpose of seeing what he did, or what befell him, he walked so rapidly, when once he had left her, that she lost sight of him. “Well, don’t that git ye?” she mumbled, peering through the undergrowth. “I said, and I’ll say it ag’in, that somethin’s troublin’ that man a good deal more than his breakfast is.”