h.

"Get off!" he shouted. "Hide behind your horse--quick! Danger."

The rider brought her pony to an abrupt halt below the dead burro and
dropped out of her saddle on the far side. Only her old cowboy sombrero,
the bottom of her khaki divided-skirt and her high laced boots were
visible to Lennon.

With a startled snort, the ewe-necked pony plunged and backed around,
clear of his motionless mistress. Lennon's first glance showed him that
she was young and more than pretty. He was already leaping over the dead
burro and brought up close before the girl to shield her with his body.

"Down!" he cried. "Down, before he fires!"

The dark eyes of the girl met his anxious look with a cool, level gaze.
Her cheeks were ruddy with rich colour under their deep coat of tan. The
corners of her rather large, but shapely mouth quirked in an amused half
smile.

"Don't tell me you're not a tenderfoot," she rallied, in a softly
vibrant, contralto voice. "I heard shots, so came a-running. Your
attacker must have vamosed, else you'd have collected lead on the
jump."

"That's so," agreed Lennon. "Only I really think I nailed the beggar.
Yet you must take no chances. Get under cover while I make sure."

"You've already done that--standing here ten seconds without drawing a
shot. When a mountain lion misses his game first crack, he sometimes is
so shamed he clears out. Same way with a broncho Apache."

"Apache? But I thought all Indians were now on reservations."

The girl dropped the reins of her skittish, snorting pony and picked up
Lennon's new sombrero. Through the middle of the high peak was a neatly
drilled bullet hole.

"Poor shot--for an Apache," she said. "Good, though, for ventilation."

The dry humour of this brought a twinkle into the Easterner's gray eyes.
He took the hat from her outstretched gloved hand, but paused with it
half raised to his close-cropped head.

"If you'll permit me ... my name is Lennon--Jack Lennon--mining
engineer."

"Engineer is all right, but can you shoot?" queried the girl.

"I have had pretty good luck with running deer. This is my first man."

"All right, Mr. Lennon. I'm going up to look for signs. Come along if
you want to."

"No, you must stay here. I insist----"

But the girl was already swinging away up the bed of the arroyo, her
spurs jingling on the stones. Lennon started to block the way but
changed his mind when he perceived her amused smile. Instead of trying
to stop her