She looked down and then faced him. "Because I know him, because he ain't that kind. What did you say to him, Doc?"
Meeker's face was a study and Doc flushed, for she was looking him squarely in the eyes.
"What did you say to him?" she repeated. "Did you make a gun-play?"
"Well, by G-d!" shouted Meeker, leaping to his feet. "You know him, hey! 'He ain't that kind!' How long have you known him, an' where'd you meet him?"
"This is no time to talk of that," she replied, her spirit aroused. "Ask Doc what he did an' said to get shot. Look at him; he lied when he told you about it."
"I told him to quit driving our cows back," Doc cried. "Of course I had my hand on my gun when I said it. I'd been a fool if I hadn't, wouldn't I?"
"That ain't all," she remarked. "Did you try to use it?"
Meeker was staring first at one and then at the other, not knowing just what to say. Doc looked at him and his mind was made up.
"What'd you do, Doc?" he asked.
"I said: 'What are you doing with that cow?' an' he said it wasn't none of my business. I got mad then an' jerked my gun loose, but he got me first. I wasn't going to shoot. I was only getting ready for him if he tried to."