“That’s about where he’s steerin’ for, don’t you reckon?” he asked shrewdly.
She flashed him another smile. “That’s just what I was going to ask you. How should I know his business? Being his old pal, you’re doing a lot of funny questioning, it seems to me.”
He flushed angrily. “You know consid’rable more than you let on, miss,” he said harshly, his eyes narrowing to pin points. “They ain’t no hoss went out that gate sence he come in here. Somebody ridden out before, but you helped this galoot outer the saddle an’ tramped over the other tracks. You can’t make no sucker outer me. Come through, now!”
She laughed daringly. “There’s more than one way of getting off this ranch—fast, stranger. I’ve had bother enough with one scamp already, without wasting breath on his partner.” She took a sudden step away from him, and the hand she had held concealed in the folds of her skirt came forth, holding a revolver. “Travel! Get out and hunt for your friend, before I give you a place to bandage!”
The unexpectedness of her action took him quite by surprise. He gazed hard at her for a few seconds, then he changed fronts with amazing rapidity. He began to grin broadly.
“Of co’se, you don’t know who you’re talkin’ to, miss, or you wouldn’t jerk a gun——”
“I’m talking to another scalawag. Are you traveling, or do you want what the deputy sheriff gave him?”
There was no doubting her earnestness. Firmness of purpose was stamped on her face, shone from her eyes. The man saw it.
“Why, I’m Sheriff Warburton, of San Buenaventura County, young lady,” he said rather awkwardly.
Dot had been looking straight at him, hard, inimically. Now, as he made known his identity, she also changed front. She wavered suddenly, amazement, pleasure, unbelief struggling across her face. She lowered the revolver and broke into a musical laugh.