ting. You better stay right where you are, Scotty. You're a heap
safer."

The sheriff began to lose patience. "Now, look here, Mrs. Lorrigan!
You're dealing with the law, you know. We can't have any nonsense."

"We won't have," Belle assured him placidly. "That's what I've been
trying to beat into your head. Why, good Lord! Can't you take the hint
and see I'm trying not to have any trouble with yuh? I don't want to
have to _run_ you off the ranch--but as you say, there's not going to
be any nonsense. I said, _go_. I'm waiting to see if you've got sense
enough to do it."

"Sa-ay! Just look here now! Do you know it's a State's prison offense
to resist an officer!" The sheriff's face was growing red.

Belle laughed. "Sure. But I'm not. You--you're irresistible! And I
don't know you're an officer."

This went over the sheriff's head and was wasted, though Aleck Douglas
pulled down his mouth at the corners as though he was afraid he might
smile if he were not careful.

The sheriff took up his bridle reins, preparing to lead his horse over
to a post and tie him. He glanced at Belle and saw that she had a
six-shooter in her hand and a glitter in her eyes. Quite naturally he
hesitated. Then, at a perfectly plain signal from the gun, he turned
his palms toward her at a level with his shoulders.

"You needn't tie up. Crawl into the saddle and drift."

"I've got a search warrant--"

"You can keep it and show it to Tom. And get off this ranch just as
quick as that horse can take you. I'll have you both arrested for
trespassing. I'm not taking your word for anything, you see. _I_ don't
know anything about your warrant--hey, Riley!" This to the cook, who
came, taking steps as long as his legs would let him, and swinging a
damp dishcloth in one moist red hand.

"Riley, here's a man claims he's the sheriff and that he's got a
warrant to search the ranch. I don't believe a word of it, and I've
ordered him off the place. I wouldn't for the world resist an officer
of the law--put your hands up a little higher, Mr. Man!--but when Tom
ain't home no stranger is going to come snooping around here if I can
stop him. Ain't that right, Riley?"

"That's right, Belle," Riley acquiesced, working his oversized Adam's
apple convulsively. (Riley, by the way, would just as readily have
approved of murder if Belle had asked for his approval.)

"Well, you're a witness that I'm from Missouri. I've told this man to
go tell his troubles to To