"

"Oh, you're welcome--I reckon nobody on earth is more welcome right
now," retorted Sanderson grimly. "We were starting right out after you,
seh. But seeing you're here it saves trouble. Better 'light, you and
your friend, both."

The declining sun flashed on three weapons that already covered the
cattleman. He looked easily from one to another, without the least
concern, and swung lightly from his horse.

"Much obliged. Glad to accept your hospitality. But about this young man
here--he's not exactly a friend of mine--a mere pick-up acquaintance, in
fact. You mustn't accept him on my say-so. Of course, you know _I'm_ all
right, but I can't guarantee _him_," Buck drawled, with magnificent
effrontery.

Phyllis spoke up unexpectedly. "_I_ can."

Keller looked at her gratefully. It was not that he cared so much for
the certificate of character as for the friendly spirit that prompted
it. "That's right kind of you," he nodded.

"We haven't heard yet what you are doing here, Buck Weaver," old Jim
Sanderson said, holding the cattleman with a hard and hostile eye. "And
after you've explained that, there are a few other things to make
clear."

"Such as----" suggested the plainsman.

"Such as keeping my daughter a captive and insulting her while she was
in your house," the father retorted promptly.

"I held her captive because it was my right. She admitted shooting me.
Would you expect me to turn her loose, and thank her right politely for
it? I want to tell you that some folks would be right grateful because I
didn't send her to the penitentiary."

"You couldn't send her there. No jury in Arizona would convict--even if
she were guilty," Tom Dixon broke out.

"That's a frozen fact about the Arizona jury," the cattleman agreed,
with a swift, careless look at the boy. "Just the same, I had a license
to hold her. About the insult--well, I've got nothing to say. Nothing
except this, that I wouldn't be wearing these decorations"--he touched
the scars on his face--"if I didn't agree with you that nobody but a
sweep would have done it."

"Everybody unanimous on that point, I reckon," said Jim Yeager promptly.

Phyllis had been speaking to her father in a low voice. The old man
listened with no great patience, but finally nodded a concession to her
importunity.

"We'll waive the matter of the insult just now. How about that boy you
shot up? Looks like you're a fool to come drilling in here, with him
still lying there