Her skin was as the olive, the bloom of the rose glowed in her cheeks; deep and limpid, black bottomless wells of love-joy were her eyes; her lips seemed crimson Cupid's bows and in unruly ringlets, her wavy, raven black hair fell about her full throat and shell-like ears.
"It is I who should thank you for allowing me to save your life," returned Jesse in a low voice, his eyes uttering the admiration he would not let his tongue.
Blushing at what she read in them, the girl's embarrassment was relieved by her father, who approached, holding out his hand to the outlaw.
"Whatever reward you wish for the great service you have rendered me in snatching my child from death, you may ask. I am Forman A. Rozier, president of the Savings Association Bank of Ste. Genevieve, and I can afford to be gen—"
But the insulting sentence was never finished.
Drawing himself proudly to his full stature, the world-famous desperado's eyes shone with the look his men had learned to fear and his voice was cold and incisive as he snapped:
"Sirrah!"
While his daughter gasped, in amazement:
"Father!"
Staring from one to another, the banker, who worshipped money and felt that his offer of reward was more than magnanimous, flushed hotly, mumbling: