"Come from town," said the old man jerkily. He stared into her excited eyes with a flush of pleasure on his rugged old face, and seemed lost to all around. "Come in with some beaver, Kitty. Paid the ol' debts, every last man, thank God! Clean's a whistle now. Goin' out to Dick Taylor's, comin' to see you-all, then goin' back home. Be in town to-morrow sure."
His abrupt awkward speech drew another hug and a kiss from the girl, who then turned to her horse and scrambled to the saddle.
"Be sure you come, then!" she cried merrily, and looked at Duval: "I thank you for the courtesy, sir, and avail myself of it right gladly——"
She broke off at sight of the brown-eyed stranger, who had not moved. Duval touched his spurs and brought his horse beside hers.
"Out of the way," he commanded sharply. "This lady wishes to pass."
The leather-clad stranger smiled a little.
"And so she shall, friend Duval," he drawled easily. "I told you once that you might take the mud."
"Confound you, sir—would you dare shoot me?" broke in Duval furiously. "I dare you to do it, sir!"
"Well, that's a dare easily settled!" laughed the other, but his eyes remained very steady. Pressing his steed with his knee, he moved aside and left the inner edge of the road clear. "The lady is not hindered. As for you, if you doubt either my ability or my will, why not test the matter?"
Duval noted the crooked trigger-finger, muttered an impatient word, then turned and splashed through the muddy water. The girl went on, still gazing at the stranger. As he drew upon the dry road and waited, Duval turned.