“Well, I don't hear of the sheriff huntin' him to give it back, nor do I reckon Kelly handed it over to the Express it was taken from. I heard YOU won suthin' from him a spell ago. I reckon you've been huntin' him to find out whar you should return it.” The laugh was clearly against Clinch. He was about to make some rallying rejoinder when the young girl suddenly interrupted him. “Ef you're wantin' to hunt somebody, why don't you take higher game? Thar's that Jim Harkins: go for him, and I'll join you.”
“Harkins!” exclaimed Clinch and Hale simultaneously.
“Yes, Jim Harkins; do you know him?” she said, glancing from one to the other.
“One of my friends do,” said Clinch laughing; “but don't let that stop you.”
“And YOU—over there,” continued Zenobia, bending her head and eyes towards Hale.
“The fact is—I believe he was my banker,” said Hale, with a smile. “I don't know him personally.”
“Then you'd better hunt him before he does you.”
“What's HE done, Zeenie?” asked Rawlins, keenly enjoying the discomfiture of the others.
“What?” She stopped, threw her long black braids over her shoulder, clasped her knee with her hands, and rocking backwards and forwards, sublimely unconscious of the apparition of a slim ankle and half-dropped-off slipper from under her shortened gown, continued, “It mightn't please HIM,” she said slyly, nodding towards Hale.
“Pray don't mind me,” said Hale, with unnecessary eagerness.