Her dainty feet,
encased in tan high boots, held him in rapt astonishment; her hands
fascinated him with their movements like the subtle turns of a
mesmerist; and the witchery of her supple body, the mischief in the
dark eyes, and the teasing sweetness of her voice smote him to the
heart before he was so much as noticed.

No less absolute, for all his strivings, was the conquest of Rufus
Hardy, the frozen bulwarks of whose heart burst suddenly and went out
like spring ice in the radiance of her first smile.

"I knew you'd be glad to see me, too," she said, holding out her hand
to him; and forgetful of all his bitterness he grasped it warmly.
Then, tardily conscious of his duty, he turned to Jeff.

"Miss Kitty," he said, "this is my friend, Jefferson Creede--Miss
Bonnair."

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Creede," said Kitty, bestowing her hand
upon the embarrassed cowboy. "Of course you know Miss Ware!"

"Howdy do, Miss," responded Creede, fumbling for his hat, and as Miss
Lucy took his hand the man who had put the fear of God into the hearts
of so many sheep-herders became dumb and tongue-tied with bashfulness.
There was not a man in the Four Peaks country that could best him, in
anger or in jest, when it called for the ready word; but Kitty Bonnair
had so stolen his wits that he could only stand and sweat like a
trick-broken horse. As for Hardy he saw rainbows and his heart had
gone out of business, but still he was "parlor-broke."

"I am afraid you didn't find the house very orderly," he observed, as
Creede backed off and the conversation sagged; and the two girls
glanced at each other guiltily. "Of course you're just as welcome," he
added hastily, "and I suppose you couldn't help cleaning house a bit;
but you gave us both a bad scare, all the same. Didn't you notice how
pale we looked?" he asked, to mask his embarrassment. "But you were
right, Jeff," he continued enigmatically.

"Does he always defer to you that way, Mr. Creede?" inquired Kitty
Bonnair, with an engaging smile. "_We_ used to find him rather
perverse." She glanced roguishly at Hardy as she gave this veiled
rebuke. "But what was it that you were right about?--I'm just dying to
ask you questions!"

She confessed this with a naive frankness which quite won the big
cowboy's heart, and, his nerve coming back, he grinned broadly at his
former suspicions.

"Well," he said, "I might as well come through with it--I told him I
bet we'd been jumped."

"