w--my watch--my purse--my horse?" he said in
English.

"He wants none of those things," said Shirley, urging her horse a few
steps toward the man. "The mountain people are not robbers. What can we
do for you?" she asked pleasantly.

"You cain't do nothin' for me," drawled the man. "Go on away, Miss. I
want to see this little fella'. I got a little business with him."

"He is a foreigner--he knows little of our language. You will do best to
let me stay," said Shirley.

She had not the remotest idea of what the man wanted, but she had known
the mountain folk from childhood and well understood that familiarity
with their ways and tact were necessary in dealing with them.

"Miss, I have seen you befo', and I reckon we ain't got no cause for
trouble with you; but this little fella' ain't no business up hy'eh. Them
hotel people has their own places to ride and drive, and it's all right
for you, Miss; but what's yo' frien' ridin' the hills for at night? He's
lookin' for some un', and I reckon as how that some un' air me!"

He spoke drawlingly with a lazy good humor in his tones, and Shirley's
wits took advantage of his deliberation to consider the situation from
several points of view. Chauvenet stood looking from Shirley to the man
and back again. He was by no means a coward, and he did not in the least
relish the thought of owing his safety to a woman. But the confidence
with which Shirley addressed the man, and her apparent familiarity with
the peculiarities of the mountaineers impressed him. He spoke to her
rapidly in French.

"Assure the man that I never heard of him before in my life--that the
idea of seeking him never occurred to me."

The rifle--a repeater of the newest type--went to the man's shoulder in a
flash and the blue barrel pointed at Chauvenet's head.

"None o' that! I reckon the American language air good enough for these
'ere negotiations."

Chauvenet shrugged his shoulders; but he gazed into the muzzle of the
rifle unflinchingly.

"The gentleman was merely explaining that you are mistaken; that he does
not know you and never heard of you before, and that he has not been
looking for you in the mountains or anywhere else."

As Shirley spoke these words very slowly and distinctly she questioned
for the first time Chauvenet's position. Perhaps, after all, the
mountaineer had a real cause of grievance. It seemed wholly unlikely, but
while she listened to the man's reply she weighed the matter judi