"Oh!" he exclaimed, chuckling as he recalled his fight with Red Eagle. "That was all th' fault of this ornery cayuse. He got th' idea into his fool head that he could throw me, so me an' him had it out right there." She had been watching his face while he spoke and she remembered that he had fought with his horse, and believed that he was telling the truth. Then, suddenly, the humorous side struck her and brought a smile to her face. "I'm sorry I didn't understand," she replied in a low voice. "Then you ain't mad no more?" he asked eagerly. "No; not a bit." "I'm glad of that," he laughed, leaning forward. "You had me plumb scared to death." "I didn't know I could scare a puncher so easy, 'specially you," she replied, flushing. "But where's yore sombrero?" "Back where I throwed it," he grinned. "Where you threw it?" "Shore. I got sore when you rode away, an' didn't care much what happened," he replied, coolly. Then he transfixed the Mexican with his keen eyes. "If yo're so anxious to get that gun out, say so or do it," he said, slowly. "That's th' second time." Mary watched them breathlessly, but Hopalong didn't intend to have any fighting in her presence. "You let it alone before I take it away from you," he said. "An' I reckon you better pull out--you ain't needed around here. Go on, flit!" Antonio glanced at Mary for orders and she nodded her head. "I don't need you; go." Hopalong watched him depart and turned to his companion. "What's eating him, anyhow?" "I don't know. I never saw him act that way before." "H'm. I reckon I know; but he don't want to act that way again," he said, decisively. "Greasers are shore funny animals." "All men are funny," she replied. "Th' idea of being scared by me when you ain't afraid of a man like him." "That's a different kind of a scare, an' I never felt like that before. It made me want to kill somebody. I don't want you to get mad at me. I like you too much. You won't, will you?" She smiled. "No." "Never? No matter what happens?" "Do you care?" "Do I care! You know I do. Look at me, Mary!" "No; don't come any nearer. I must go--good-bye." "Don't go; let's ride around for a while." "But 'Tony may tell Dad; an' if he does Dad'll come up here an' make trouble. No, I must go." "Tell 'Tony I want to see him," he replied. "If he says anything I'll make him pay for it; an' he won't do it again." "You mustn't do that! It would make things all th' worse." "Will you come up again to-morrow?" She laughed. "That'll be too soon, won't it?" "Not by a blamed sight." "Well, I don't know. Good-bye." "Good-bye," he said, holding out his hand. She gave him her hand and then tried to push him away. "No, no! No, I say! I won't come any more if you do that!" Despite her struggles he drew her to him and kissed her again and again.