"You can keep it and show it to Tom. And get off this ranch just as quick as that horse can take you. I'll have you both arrested for trespassing. I'm not taking your word for anything, you see. _I_ don't know anything about your warrant--hey, Riley!" This to the cook, who came, taking steps as long as his legs would let him, and swinging a damp dishcloth in one moist red hand. "Riley, here's a man claims he's the sheriff and that he's got a warrant to search the ranch. I don't believe a word of it, and I've ordered him off the place. I wouldn't for the world resist an officer of the law--put your hands up a little higher, Mr. Man!--but when Tom ain't home no stranger is going to come snooping around here if I can stop him. Ain't that right, Riley?" "That's right, Belle," Riley acquiesced, working his oversized Adam's apple convulsively. (Riley, by the way, would just as readily have approved of murder if Belle had asked for his approval.) "Well, you're a witness that I'm from Missouri. I've told this man to go tell his troubles to Tom. If he's honest he'll do it. If he don't go in about ten seconds, I'm going to throw a bullet through his hat. _Then_ if he hangs around, I shall shoot him in his left leg just about six inches above the knee. I can do it, can't I, Riley?" "Well, now, you shore can, Belle!" Riley nodded his head emphatically. "If you say six, I'd shore gamble a year's wages it won't be five, or seven. Six inches above his knee goes, if you say six." "All right. I'm just defending the ranch when Tom's gone. You hear me, Mr. Man. Now, you git!" The sheriff turned and opened his mouth to protest, and Belle shot the promised bullet through his hat crown. The sheriff ducked and made a wild scramble for the stirrup. "Open your mouth again and I'll be awfully tempted to shoot that crooked tooth out of it," Belle observed. "And in ten seconds, remember, you're going to get--" The sheriff still had two of the ten seconds to spare when he left, Aleck Douglas following him glumly. "It's him, all right. It's the sheriff, Belle," Riley informed her, while they watched the two clatter up the road to where the real grade began. "What's eatin' on 'em? Likely he did have a search warrant." "He can use it, after I'm through. Old Scotty is trailing some rustled stock, they claim. They came here looking for hides. You keep an eye out, Riley, and see if they keep going. I guess they will--they'll go after Tom. I'm going to have a look at those cowhides in the old shed." "Better let me," Riley offered. "It ain't any job for a woman nohow. You watch the trail and I'll look."