"I guess I understand," Loudon muttered. "I'll—I'll send yuh Ranger. Yuh've done bought him. He's yores. I'll go now."
"Oh, don't bother about Ranger—— Look out!"
So engrossed had been the two that neither had heard the gallop of an approaching horse till it shot around the corner of the house and was almost upon them. As Kate shrieked her warning she sprang from the hammock and flung herself in front of Loudon. For the man on the horse was Pete O'Leary, and he was apparently aiming a six-shooter at Loudon.
"You —— spy!" yelled O'Leary.
Even as O'Leary's six-shooter cracked, Loudon swept Kate to one side and fired from the hip. O'Leary swayed, dropped his gun, then pitched forward over his saddle-horn. Loudon ran to him. As he reached O'Leary the latter rolled over on his back.
"Teach her to spy on my letters!" he gasped. "If it hadn't been for her I——"
He choked and died.
Loudon thrust his sixshooter into its holster and turned. Kate, her lips colourless, her eyes dilated, was clinging to one of the porch uprights. Loudon crossed the intervening space in two leaps.
"Where yuh hit?" he cried.
"I'm not hit," she replied, shakily. "But—but did he—did you—are you hurt?"