He regarded her coolly, and with the interval he had had for thinking, his wits were clearing. "Do I look like a man hunting for a fight? Or," he added, since she made no answer, "like a man hunting for a quiet spot to die in? How," he went on slowly, delirium giving place to indignation, "can you say I'm hiding here to kill other men? That's what your people tell you, is it?" "I know you are a murderer." In spite of his weakness he flushed. "No," he exclaimed sharply, "I'm not a murderer. If you think it"--he pointed contemptuously to her side--"you have your rifle--use it!" "My rifle is to defend myself with. I am not a public executioner," she answered scornfully. "You need no rifle to defend yourself from me--though I am a murderer. And if you're not a public executioner, leave me--I'm dying fast enough." "You came here to hide to kill somebody!" she exclaimed, as if the thought were a sudden explanation. "What do you mean by 'here'? I might better ask why you came here," he retorted. "I don't know where I am. Do I look as if I came here by choice?" He paused. "Listen," he said, quite master of himself, "I'll tell you why I came. I shall never get away alive, anyway--you can have the truth if you want it. I got off my horse in the night to get a drink. He bolted. I couldn't walk. I climbed up here to hide till my wounds heal. Now, I've told you the truth. Where am I?" The grip of her hands on the rifle might have relaxed somewhat, but she saw his deadly revolver in its accustomed place and did not mean to surrender her command of him. Nor would she tell him where he was. She parried his questions. He could get no information of any sort out of her. Yet he saw that something more than his mere presence detained and perplexed her. Her prompt condemnation of him rankled in his mind, and the strain of facing her suspicion wore on him. "I won't ask you anything more," he said at length. "You do right to give me no information. It might help me save my life. I can't talk any longer. You know you think I've no right to live--that's what you think, isn't it? Why don't you shoot?" She only stared at him. "Why don't you answer?" he demanded recklessly. Nan summoned her resolution. "I know you tried to kill my cousin," she said hotly, after he had taunted her once more. "And I don't know you won't try it again as soon as you are able. And I am going to think what to do before I tell you anything or do anything." "You know I tried to kill your cousin! You know nothing of the kind. Your cousin tried to kill me. He's a bully and a coward, a man that doesn't know what fair fighting means. Tell him that for me." "You are safe in abusing him when he's not here."