It took but a moment to get the weapon and the cartridge belt, to both of which the girl gave critical inspection, for Elfreda had handled revolvers, both in France in wartime, and on their annual summer outings in the saddle. The weapon was loaded, and several rounds of cartridges still remained in the belt.
“There!” she exclaimed, after strapping the holster on. “I at least have the means of defending myself. Hark!”
Hoof-beats were plainly audible, but they seemed to be those of only one horse. A glance through the doorway, without revealing herself, verified this.
“It’s the good-looking one,” breathed Elfreda, retiring into the shadows and giving her holster a shift. “I must go out. It never will do to let that man come into the cabin,” she decided as she stepped to the door with an expression of surprised inquiry in her eyes.
“Ye didn’t think I’d be back so soon, did ye?” he grinned.
“I don’t think I looked for you to return,” Elfreda replied. “What is it you wish?”
“I reckoned as I’d like a drink of water.”
“Wait. I will fetch a dipper. The spring is just beyond the stump over yonder.” Elfreda was out with a dipper in her hand in a moment, and held it up to him, but the rider did not take it. He swung from the saddle and stood leaning against his mount, regarding her with something like a twinkle in his eyes. Elfreda saw that twinkle and was reassured.
“I see ye’ve got your hardware on,” he said, pointing to the revolver. “Purty sizable gun for a lady, eh? Ye didn’t have it on when I was here before.”
“Perhaps I was expecting more company after you went off. Why do you ask?”