"I—I don't know."
"Who does, then? Either you shot me or you know who did."
Her gaze evaded his, but was forced at last to the meeting.
"I did it."
She was looking at him steadily now. Since the thing must be faced, she had braced herself to it. It was amazing what defiant pluck shone out of her soft eyes. This man of iron saw it, and, seeing, admired hugely the gameness that dwelt in her slim body. But none of his admiration showed in the hard, weather-beaten face.
"So they make bushwhackers out of even the girls among your rustling, sheep-herding outfit!" he taunted.
"My people are not rustlers. They have a right to be on earth, even if you don't want them there."
"I'll show them what rights they have got in this part of the country before I get through with them. But that ain't the point now. What I want to know is how they came to send a girl to do their dirty killing for them."
"They didn't send me. I just saw you, and—and shot on an impulse. Your men have clubbed and poisoned our sheep. They wounded one of our herders, and beat his brother when they caught him unarmed. They have done a hundred mean and brutal things. You are at the bottom of it all; and when I saw you riding there, looking like the lord of all the earth, I just——"
"Well?"