“Don’t y’u believe it; when I want a thing I don’t quit till it’s done.” She met his gaze, and the impact of eyes seemed to shock her physically. The wickedness in him threatened, gloated, dominated. She shivered in the warm sunlight, and would not have had him know it for worlds. “Dear me! How confident you talk. Aren’t you sometimes disappointed?” “Temporarily. But when I want a thing I take it in the end.” She knew he was serving notice on her that he meant to win her; and again the little spinal shiver raced over her. She could not look at his sardonic, evil face without fear, and she could not look away without being aware of his eyes possessing her. What was the use of courage against such a creature as this? “Yes, I understand you take a good deal that isn’t yours,” she retorted carelessly, her eyes on the arena. “I make it mine when I take it,” he answered coolly, admiring the gameness which she wore as a suit of chain armor against his thrusts. “Isn’t it a little dangerous sometimes?” her even voice countered. “When you take what belongs to others you run a risk, don’t you?” “That’s part of the rules. Except for that I shouldn’t like it so well. I hunt big game, and the bigger the game the more risk. That’s why y’u guessed right when y’u said I was enjoying the mo’ning.” “Meaning—your cousin?” “Well, no. I wasn’t thinking of him, though he’s some sizable. But I’m hunting bigger game than he is, and I expect to bag it.” She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. “I might pretend to misunderstand you. But I won’t. You may have your answer now. I am not afraid of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw a rattlesnake last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I have seen. I’ll leave you to guess who.” Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of his face. He leaned forward till his beady eyes were close to her defiant ones. “Y’u have forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake can sting. I ask nothing of you. Can’t I break your heart without your loving me? You’re only a woman—and not the first I have broken, by God—” His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, and left them to all intents alone. At a touch of her fingers the handbag in her lap flew open and a little ivory-hilted revolver lay in her hand. “You may break me, but you’ll never bend me an inch.” He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. “Sho! If y’u should hit me with that and I should find it out I might get mad at y’u.” “Did I say it was for you?” she said coldly; and again the shock of joined eyes ended in drawn battle. “Have y’u the nerve?” He looked her over, so dainty and so resolute, so silken strong; and he knew he had his answer.