“Snake, shore it was the gurl deal you made,” rejoined Wilson, who had listened. “I told you. Our troubles hev only begun. An' I can see the wind-up. Look!” Wilson pointed to where the girl stood, her hair flying wildly all over her face and shoulders. She was making most elaborate bows to an old stump, sweeping the ground with her tresses in her obeisance. Anson started. He grew utterly astounded. His amaze was ludicrous. And the other two men looked to stare, to equal their leader's bewilderment. “What 'n hell's come over her?” asked Anson, dubiously. “Must hev perked up.... But she ain't feelin' thet gay!” Wilson tapped his forehead with a significant finger. “Shore I was scared of her this mawnin',” he whispered. “Naw!” exclaimed Anson, incredulously. “If she hain't queer I never seen no queer wimmin,” vouchsafed Shady Jones, and it would have been judged, by the way he wagged his head, that he had been all his days familiar with women. Moze looked beyond words, and quite alarmed. “I seen it comin',” declared Wilson, very much excited. “But I was scared to say so. You-all made fun of me aboot her. Now I shore wish I had spoken up.” Anson nodded solemnly. He did not believe the evidence of his sight, but the facts seemed stunning. As if the girl were a dangerous and incomprehensible thing, he approached her step by step. Wilson followed, and the others appeared drawn irresistibly. “Hey thar--kid!” called Anson, hoarsely. The girl drew her slight form up haughtily. Through her spreading tresses her eyes gleamed unnaturally upon the outlaw leader. But she deigned not to reply. “Hey thar--you Rayner girl!” added Anson, lamely. “What's ailin' you?” “My lord! did you address me?” she asked, loftily. Shady Jones got over his consternation and evidently extracted some humor from the situation, as his dark face began to break its strain. “Aww!” breathed Anson, heavily. “Ophelia awaits your command, my lord. I've been gathering flowers,” she said, sweetly, holding up her empty hands as if they contained a bouquet. Shady Jones exploded in convulsed laughter. But his merriment was not shared. And suddenly it brought disaster upon him. The girl flew at him. “Why do you croak, you toad? I will have you whipped and put in irons, you scullion!” she cried, passionately. Shady underwent a remarkable change, and stumbled in his backward retreat. Then she snapped her fingers in Moze's face. “You black devil! Get hence! Avaunt!” Anson plucked up courage enough to touch her. “Aww! Now, Ophelyar--” Probably he meant to try to humor her, but she screamed, and he jumped back as if she might burn him. She screamed shrilly, in wild, staccato notes. “You! You!” she pointed her finger at the outlaw leader. “You brute to women! You ran off from your wife!” Anson turned plum-color and then slowly white. The girl must have sent a random shot home.