“Isn’t it a little dangerous sometimes?” her even voice countered. “When you take what belongs to others you run a risk, don’t you?”
“That’s part of the rules. Except for that I shouldn’t like it so well. I hunt big game, and the bigger the game the more risk. That’s why y’u guessed right when y’u said I was enjoying the mo’ning.”
“Meaning—your cousin?”
“Well, no. I wasn’t thinking of him, though he’s some sizable. But I’m hunting bigger game than he is, and I expect to bag it.”
She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. “I might pretend to misunderstand you. But I won’t. You may have your answer now. I am not afraid of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw a rattlesnake last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I have seen. I’ll leave you to guess who.”
Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of his face. He leaned forward till his beady eyes were close to her defiant ones. “Y’u have forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake can sting. I ask nothing of you. Can’t I break your heart without your loving me? You’re only a woman—and not the first I have broken, by God—”
His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, and left them to all intents alone. At a touch of her fingers the handbag in her lap flew open and a little ivory-hilted revolver lay in her hand.
“You may break me, but you’ll never bend me an inch.”
He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. “Sho! If y’u should hit me with that and I should find it out I might get mad at y’u.”
“Did I say it was for you?” she said coldly; and again the shock of joined eyes ended in drawn battle.