“Yes—I had,” replied Riggs, cautiously getting up. He was ghastly. “But I wasn't double-crossin' you. Your deal was to get the girl away from home so you could take possession of her property. An' I wanted her.”
“What for did you fetch the sister, then?” demanded Beasley, his big jaw bulging.
“Because I've a plan to—”
“Plan hell! You've spoiled my plan an' I've seen about enough of you.” Beasley breathed hard; his lowering gaze boded an uncertain will toward the man who had crossed him; his hand still hung low and clutching.
“Beasley, tell them to get my horse. I want to go home,” said Bo Rayner.
Slowly Beasley turned. Her words enjoined a silence. What to do with her now appeared a problem.
“I had nothin' to do with fetchin' you here an' I'll have nothin' to do with sendin' you back or whatever's done with you,” declared Beasley.
Then the girl's face flashed white again and her eyes changed to fire.
“You're as big a liar as Riggs,” she cried, passionately. “And you're a thief, a bully who picks on defenseless girls. Oh, we know your game! Milt Dale heard your plot with this outlaw Anson to steal my sister. You ought to be hanged—you half-breed greaser!”
“I'll cut out your tongue!” hissed Beasley.