“Does that mean you think I’m not Bucky O’Connor?” He had pushed his pony forward so as to cut off her advance, and both had halted for the moment.
She looked at him with level, fearless eyes. “I don’t know who you are.”
“But you think I’m not Lieutenant O’Connor of the rangers?”
“I don’t know whether you are or not.”
“There is nothing like making sure. Just look over this letter, please.”
She did so. It was from the governor of the Territory to the ranger officer. While he was very complimentary as to past services, the governor made it plain that he thought O’Connor must at all hazards succeed in securing the release of Simon West. This would be necessary for the good name of the Territory. Otherwise, a widespread report would go out that Arizona was a lawless place in which to live.
Melissy folded the letter and handed it back. “I beg your pardon, Lieutenant O’Connor. I see that I was wrong.”
“Forget it, my dear. We all make mistakes.” He had that curious mocking smile which so often 248 hovered about his lips. She felt as though he were deriding her—as though his words held some hidden irony which she could not understand.
“The governor seems very anxious to have you succeed. It will be a black eye for Arizona if this band of outlaws is not apprehended. You don’t think, do you, that they will do Mr. West any harm, if their price is not paid? They would never dare.”
He took this up almost as though he resented it. “They would dare anything. I reckon you’ll have to get up early in the mornin’ to find a gamer man than Black MacQueen.”