Sheila smiled at the rain-spattered window, a flash of pleased vanity in her eyes. His voice had been low, but in it she detected much curiosity, even interest. It was not surprising, of course, that he should feel an interest in her; other men had been interested in her too, only they had not been men that lived in romantic wildernesses,--observe that she did not make use of the term "unfeatured," which she had manufactured soon after realizing that she was lost--nor had they carried big revolvers, like this man, who seemed also to know very well how to use them. Those other men who had been interested in her had had a way of looking at her; there had always been a significant boldness in their eyes which belied the gentleness of demeanor which, she had always been sure, merely masked their real characters. She had never been able to look squarely at any of those men, the men of her circle who had danced attendance upon her at the social functions that had formerly filled her existence--without a feeling of repugnance. They had worn man-shapes, of course, but somehow they had seemed to lack something real and vital; seemed to have possessed nothing of that forceful, magnetic personality which was needed to arouse her sympathy and interest. Not that the man on the floor in front of the door interested her--she could not admit that! But she had felt a sympathy for him in his loneliness, and she had looked into his eyes--had been able to look steadily into them, and though she had seen expressions that had puzzled her, she had at least seen nothing to cause her to feel any uneasiness. She had seen manliness there, and indomitability, and force, and it had seemed to her to be sufficient. His would be an ideal face were it not for the expression that lingered about the lips, were it not for the reckless glint in his eyes--a glint that revealed an untamed spirit. His question remained unanswered. He stirred impatiently, and glancing at him Sheila saw that he had raised himself so that his chin rested in his hand, his elbow supported by the saddle. "You here for a visit?" he questioned. "Perhaps," she said. "I do not know how long I shall stay. My father has bought the Double R." For a long time it seemed that he would have no comment to make on this and Sheila's lips took on a decidedly petulant expression. Apparently he was not interested in her after all. "Then Duncan has sold out?" There was satisfaction in his voice. "You are keen," she mocked. "And tickled," he added. His short laugh brought a sudden interest into her eyes. "Then you don't like Duncan," she said. "I reckon you're some keen too," came the mocking response. Sheila flushed, turned and looked defiantly at him. His hand still supported his head and there was an unmistakable interest in his eyes as he caught her glance at him and smiled. "You got any objections to telling me your name? We ain't been introduced, you know?" he said. "It is Sheila Langford."