He stared at her in surprise. “By God, girl—you’re right. I’m MacQueen, though I don’t know how you guessed it.”
“I don’t know how I kept from guessing it so long. I can see it, now, as plain as day, in all that you have done.”
After that they measured strength silently with their eyes. If the situation had clarified itself, with the added knowledge of the girl had come new problems. Let her return to Mesa, and he could no longer pose as O’Connor; and it was just the audacity of this double play that delighted him. He was the most reckless man on earth; he loved to take chances. He wanted to fool the officers to his heart’s content, and then jeer at them afterward. Hitherto everything had come his way.
But if this girl should go home, he could not show his face at Mesa; and the spice of the thing would be gone. He was greatly taken with her beauty, her daring, and the charm of high spirits which radiated from her. Again and again he had found himself drawn back to her. He was not in love with her in any legitimate sense; but he knew now that, if he could see her no more, life would be a savorless thing, at least until his fancy had spent itself. Moreover, her presence at Dead Man’s 252 Cache would be a safeguard. With her in his power, Lee and Flatray, the most persistent of his hunters, would not dare to move against the outlaws.
Inclination and interest worked together. He decided to take her back with him to the country of hidden pockets and gulches. There, in time, he would win her love—so his vanity insisted. After that they would slip away from the scene of his crimes, and go back to the world from which he had years since vanished.
The dream grew on him. It got hold of his imagination. For a moment he saw himself as the man he had been meant for—the man he might have been, if he had been able to subdue his evil nature. He saw himself respected, a power in the community, going down to a serene old age, with this woman and their children by his side. Then he laughed derisively, and brushed aside the vision.
“Why didn’t the real Lieutenant O’Connor arrive to expose you?” she asked.
“The real Bucky is handcuffed and guarded at Dead Man’s Cache. I don’t think he’s enjoying himself to-day.”
“You’re getting quite a collection of prisoners. You’ll be starting a penitentiary on your own account soon,” she told him sharply.
“That’s right. And I’m taking another one back with me to-night.”