She gave him direct, cool, black-blue eyes that met and searched his. “I’m not at all sure she is friendly. I shall want to find out the cause of the trouble you have just had before I make up my mind as to that.” “I judge people by their actions. Y’u didn’t wait to find out before bringing the ambulance into action,” he laughed. “I see you do not mean to tell me.” “You’re quite a lawyer, ma’am,” he evaded. “I find you a very slippery witness, then.” “Ask anything y’u like and I’ll tell you.” “Very well. Who were those men, and why were they trying to kill you?” “They turned their wolf loose on me because I shot up one of them yesterday.” “Dear me! Is it your business to go around shooting people? That’s three I happen to know that you have shot. How many more?” “No more, ma’am—not recently.” “Well, three is quite enough—recently,” she mimicked. “You seem to me a good deal of a desperado.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Don’t say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ like that, as if it didn’t matter in the least whether you are or not,” she ordered. “No, ma’am.” “Oh!” She broke off with a gesture of impatience at his burlesque of obedience. “You know what I mean—that you ought to deny it; ought to be furious at me for suggesting it.” “Ought I?” “Of course you ought.” “There’s a heap of ways I ain’t up to specifications,” he admitted, cheerfully. “And who are they—the men that were attacking you?” There was a gleam of irrepressible humor in the bold eyes. “Your cow-punchers, ma’am.” “My cow-punchers?” “They ce’tainly belong to the Lazy D outfit.” “And you say that you shot one of my men yesterday?” He could see her getting ready for a declaration of war. “Down by Willow Creek—Yes, ma’am,” he answered, comfortably. “And why, may I ask?” she flamed “That’s a long story, Miss Messiter. It wouldn’t be square for me to get my version in before your boys. Y’u ask them.” He permitted himself a genial smile, somewhat ironic. “I shouldn’t wonder but what they’ll give me a giltedged testimonial as an unhanged horse thief.” “Isn’t there such a thing as law in Wyoming?” the girl demanded. “Lots of it. Y’u can buy just as good law right here as in Kalamazoo.” “I wish I knew where to find it.” “Like to put me in the calaboose?” “In the penitentiary. Yes, sir!” A moment later the question that was in her thoughts leaped hotly from her lips. “Who are you, sir, that dare to commit murder and boast of it?” She had flicked him on the raw at last. Something that was near to pain rested for a second in his eyes. “Murder is a hard name, ma’am. And I didn’t say he was daid, or any of the three,” came his gentle answer. “You _meant_ to kill them, anyhow.” “Did I?” There was the ghost of a sad smile about his eyes. “The way you act, a person might think you one of Ned Bannister’s men,” she told him, scornfully. “I expect you’re right.” She repented her a little at a charge so unjust. “If you are not ashamed of your name why are you so loath to part with it?”