A mild-looking old man had stepped out of the bank next door at the first shot, a revolver in his hand, the butt of which was notched in several places. He watched the fight, making no attempt to get in it. When it was over, he sheathed his gun in a holster under his left armpit and walked over to where already men were bending over Sam Earp and Bud Yancey, now lying across Sam. * * * * * The old man talked a moment with the men who were lifting Sam and Bud in their arms, felt gently Sam’s wrist and head, opened Bud’s shirt a little, gave a curt order and started back toward the bank. He saw Elaine standing there, one lovely hand over her heart, and came up to her. “Honey,” he said in a soft disapproving drawl, “you-all mustn’t get up when men-folks are gunfightin’. Next time you-all keep down--like a right good girl should.” “Next time!” gasped Elaine. “I--it happened so quickly, and--” “It does that-a-way down here,” the old man said, a twinkle coming in his calm blue eyes, “every once in a while.” “Are they--is he--oh, he stood there with a smile and--is he badly hurt?” “If you-all mean that wuthless young Bud Yancey,” answered Ranger Captain Coudray, “no, ma’am, he isn’t. Neither is that scoundrel of a Sam Earp.” She had been referred to as “this here girl” and had been told to act as “a right good girl” in the course of five minutes, but she decided right then that she would defer for a day or so arriving at the army post where her brother was stationed--at least until she had heard more about the accident to the lion, and--found out that Bud Yancey was not really badly hurt. “I was going into the bank to get a traveler’s check cashed,” she explained, “and they were talking to me when it happened. I’m Elaine Webb, and my brother is Lieutenant Webb, stationed at Fort Combes.” “Well suh, I know him right well--and I knew your daddy’s brother when he was soldierin’ down here a long time ago. My name is Coudray, honey. I’m kinda the boss of them two jaspers I caught gun-frolickin’.” Elaine looked at the famous old ranger captain that her brother had written about when telling of men and ways in Texas. “Honey, after you-all get through at the bank, I sure would admire if you’d come home with me and meet up with the best lookin’ girl in Texas. Mrs. Coudray don’t get out much nowadays, and she loves young people, specially right pretty ones.” Elaine smiled. “I’d love to. I didn’t want to go until--are you sure he isn’t hurt very much, Captain?” “That Bud Yancey isn’t hurt hardly a-tall,” answered the old Ranger. “Honest Injun. You go and ’tend to your bankin’, and then come home with me. Ma’ll take you over to the hospital this evenin’, I reckon.” “Why, I don’t want to see him,” Elaine hastily declared. “I--just wanted to know that--”