"Don't you dare think of it, Ramon Ainsa. One would think nobody in the valley had any business except fighting with this man. What has he done to you? Or to these others? You are very brave, all of you, when you know you are a hundred to one. I suppose you, too, will want to shoot him from ambush?"
This bit of feminine injustice hurt the young man, but he only said quietly:
"No; I don't think I would do that."
Impulsively she put out her hand.
"Forgive me, Ramon. I don't mean that, of course, but I'm nearly beside myself. Why must all this bad will and bloodshed come into our happy little valley? If we must have trouble why can't we let the law settle it? I thought you were my friends—you and Manuel and my people—but between you I am going to be made unhappy for life."
She broke down suddenly and began to sob. The lad slipped to the ground and went quickly to her, putting an arm around her waist across the saddle.
"Don't cry, Val. We all love you—of course we do. How can we help it? It will all come right yet. Don't cry, niña"
"How can it come right, with all of you working to make things wrong?" she sobbed.
"Perhaps the stranger will go away."
"He won't. He is a man, and he won't let you drive him out."