you, it's a
dead sure bet he's playing his own game. That's to get hold of Nell, and
if not her--then me!... Oh, I'm out of breath--and I'm out of names to
call him. If I talked forever--I'd never be--able to--do him justice.
But lend me--a gun--a minute!"

Jim Wilson's quiet form vibrated with a start. Anson with his admiring
smile pulled his gun and, taking a couple of steps forward, held it out
butt first. She stretched eagerly for it and he jerked it away.

"Hold on there!" yelled Riggs, in alarm.

"Damme, Jim, if she didn't mean bizness!" exclaimed the outlaw.

"Wal, now--see heah, Miss. Would you bore him--if you hed a gun?"
inquired Wilson, with curious interest. There was more of respect in his
demeanor than admiration.

"No. I don't want his cowardly blood on my hands," replied the girl.
"But I'd make him dance--I'd make him run."

"Shore you can handle a gun?"

She nodded her answer while her eyes flashed hate and her resolute lips
twitched.

Then Wilson made a singularly swift motion and his gun was pitched butt
first to within a foot of her hand. She snatched it up, cocked it, aimed
it, all before Anson could move. But he yelled:

"Drop thet gun, you little devil!"

Riggs turned ghastly as the big blue gun lined on him. He also yelled,
but that yell was different from Anson's.

"Run or dance!" cried the girl.

The big gun boomed and leaped almost out of her hand. She took both
hands, and called derisively as she fired again. The second bullet hit
at Riggs's feet, scattering the dust and fragments of stone all over
him. He bounded here--there--then darted for the rocks. A third time the
heavy gun spoke and this bullet must have ticked Riggs, for he let out a
hoarse bawl and leaped sheer for the protection of a rock.

"Plug him! Shoot off a leg!" yelled Snake Anson, whooping and stamping,
as Riggs got out of sight.

Jim Wilson watched the whole performance with the same quietness
that had characterized his manner toward the girl. Then, as Riggs
disappeared, Wilson stepped forward and took the gun from the girl's
trembling hands. She was whiter than ever, but still resolute and
defiant. Wilson took a glance over in the direction Riggs had hidden and
then proceeded to reload the gun. Snake Anson's roar of laughter ceased
rather suddenly.

"Hyar, Jim, she might have held up the whole gang with thet gun," he
protested.

"I reckon she 'ain't nothin' ag'in' us," replied Wilson.

"A-huh! You kn