"That's a fine old gun," he said at last. "I sure have carried it many a mile."
"Yes," she answered, and sat there, waiting, and at last he met her eyes.
"What's the idea?" he asked, but his tone was resentful—he knew what was in her mind.
"I just want it," she said. "More than anything else. And you must never get another one."
"How'm I going to protect myself?" he demanded hotly. "How'm I going to protect my claims? If it wasn't for that gun, where'd the Old Juan be to-day?"
"Well, where is it?" she asked and smiled.
"Why——"
"Why, you lost it," she supplied. "And I won it," she added. "It stands in my name to-day."
"Yes, but Andrew McBain——"
"Was he any smarter than Stoddard? Well, I didn't need any gun."