Riggs took two long strides and bent over her, his teeth protruding in a snarl, and he cuffed her hard on the side of the head. Bo's head jerked back with the force of the blow, but she uttered no cry. “Are you goin' to keep your jaw shut?” he demanded, stridently, and a dark tide of blood surged up into his neck. “I should smile I'm not,” retorted Bo, in cool, deliberate anger of opposition. “You've roped me--and you've struck me! Now get a club--stand off there--out of my reach--and beat me! Oh, if I only knew cuss words fit for you--I'd call you them!” Snake Anson had stopped playing cards, and was watching, listening, with half-disgusted, half-amused expression on his serpent-like face. Jim Wilson slowly rose to his feet. If any one had observed him it would have been to note that he now seemed singularly fascinated by this scene, yet all the while absorbed in himself. Once he loosened the neck-band of his blouse. Riggs swung his arm more violently at the girl. But she dodged. “You dog!” she hissed. “Oh, if I only had a gun!” Her face then, with its dead whiteness and the eyes of flame, held a tragic, impelling beauty that stung Anson into remonstrance. “Aw, Riggs, don't beat up the kid,” he protested. “Thet won't do any good. Let her alone.” “But she's got to shut up,” replied Riggs. “How 'n hell air you goin' to shet her up? Mebbe if you get out of her sight she'll be quiet.... How about thet, girl?” Anson gnawed his drooping mustache as he eyed Bo. “Have I made any kick to you or your men yet?” she queried. “It strikes me you 'ain't,” replied Anson. “You won't hear me make any so long as I'm treated decent,” said Bo. “I don't know what you've got to do with Riggs. He ran me down--roped me--dragged me to your camp. Now I've a hunch you're waiting for Beasley.” “Girl, your hunch 's correct,” said Anson. “Well, do you know I'm the wrong girl?” “What's thet? I reckon you're Nell Rayner, who got left all old Auchincloss's property.” “No. I'm Bo Rayner. Nell is my sister. She owns the ranch. Beasley wanted her.” Anson cursed deep and low. Under his sharp, bristling eyebrows he bent cunning green eyes upon Riggs. “Say, you! Is what this kid says so?” “Yes. She's Nell Rayner's sister,” replied Riggs, doggedly. “A-huh! Wal, why in the hell did you drag her into my camp an' off up here to signal Beasley? He ain't wantin' her. He wants the girl who owns the ranch. Did you take one fer the other--same as thet day we was with you?” “Guess I must have,” replied Riggs, sullenly. “But you knowed her from her sister afore you come to my camp?” Riggs shook his head. He was paler now and sweating more freely. The dank hair hung wet over his forehead. His manner was that of a man suddenly realizing he had gotten into a tight place. “Oh, he's a liar!” exclaimed Bo, with contemptuous ring in her voice. “He comes from my country. He has known Nell and me for years.” Snake Anson turned to look at Wilson.