“Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father and attempted to murder him?” she flashed.
“I’m the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn for helping Juan Valdez take the guns,” retorted Bucky, with a laugh.
“You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine.”
“I’m a friend of Michael O’Halloran, who stood between him and the mob that wanted to kill him.”
“Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray him,” she quickly replied.
“I reckon, ma’am, we better agree to disagree on politics,” said Bucky good-naturedly. “We’re sure liable to see things different from each other. Castile and Arizona don’t look at things with the same eyes.”
She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful ones, at any rate. “I should hope not.”
“You see, we’re living in the twentieth century up in the sunburned State,” said Bucky, with smiling aplomb.
“Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?”
“When I see the ladies I think you’re ce’tainly in the golden age, but when I break into your politics, I’m some reminded of that Richard Third fellow in the Shakespeare play.”