t before we took the bank," said Ashton,
twisting about to look at the streak cut by the bullet. "The first was
the only other one that didn't go higher."

"But what did the man look like?" questioned Miss Isobel. "I can't
imagine who--Can it be that your guide has a grudge against you on
account of his pay?"

"I wouldn't have thought it possible before yesterday, though he was a
surly fellow and inclined to be insolent."

"All such men are apt to be with tenderfeet," she remarked, permitting
herself a half twinkle of her sweet eyes. "But I should have thought
yours would have kept on going. Whatever you may have owed him, he had
no right to steal your outfit. He must be a real badman, if it's true
he is the party who did this shooting."

"I shouldn't be at all surprised," agreed Ashton. In her concern over
him she looked so charming that he would have agreed if she had told
him the moon was made of green cheese.

She shook her head thoughtfully, and went on: "I can't imagine even
one of our badmen trying to murder you that way. Their usual course
would be to come up to you, face to face, pick a quarrel, and beat you
to it on the draw. But whoever the cowardly scoundrel is, we'll turn
out the boys, and either run him down or out of the country."

"If it's my guide, he probably is running already."

"I hope so," replied the girl.

"You do! Don't you want him punished?" exclaimed Ashton.

"Of course, but you see I don't want Kid to--to cut another notch on
his Colt's."

"I must say, I cannot see how that--"

"You could if you realized how kind and good he has been to me all
these years. Do you know, when I first came West, I couldn't tell a
jackrabbit from a burro. Daddy had told me that each had big ears, and
I got them mixed. And actually I didn't know the off from the nigh
side of a hawss!"

"But we--er--have horses and riding-schools in the East," put in
Ashton.

She parried the indirect question without seeming to notice it. "You
proved that yesterday, coming down from High Mesa. I felt sure I would
have you pulling leather."

"Pulling leather?" he asked. "You see, I own to my tenderfootness."

"Grabbing your saddle to hold yourself on," she explained. Before he
could reply, she rose in her stirrups and pointed ahead with her
quirt. "Look, that's the top of the biggest haystack, up by the
feed-sheds. You'll see the buildings in half a minute."

Unheeded by Ashton, she had guided him off to the le