"It is too bad that the fog lifted when it did," and the girl gave a deep sigh.
"You know the men, then?"
"Only one, but he is enough."
"I saw you with him at the dance. I suppose he is the one you mean."
"Where is he now?" There was a note of sternness in the girl's voice.
"At Big Draw. Any message I can take to him?"
The girl's face underwent a marvellous change. It was like the sweep of a cloud over a sunny landscape. She touched Midnight with her whip, and he sprang forward. Down the trail he clattered at a reckless gait, and when he had reached the level below his rider swung him sharply around. Then he bounded upward, and when near to where Reynolds was standing, Glen pulled him up with a sudden jerk.
"There is no message," she announced. "Why have you misjudged me? Are all men alike? Thank you for what you did for me to-day. Good-by."
She again lifted her whip and it was about to fall upon Midnight's flank when Reynolds stepped forward and laid his right hand upon the horse's bridle.
"Forgive me," he pleaded. "I meant nothing. I was merely joking.
Perhaps I understand more than you realise. May I accompany you home?
It is not safe for you to travel alone, unarmed as you are, in a place
like this."