"

Again the young man's white-toothed smile flashed. "You'd better be.
Anybody that goes hunting Black MacQueen unarmed ought to be right well
insured."

She nodded, a shadow in her eyes. "Yes--but he would go. He doesn't mean
them to see him, if he can help it."

"Black sees a heap he isn't expected to see. He has got eyes all over the
hills, and they see by night as well as by day."

"Yes--I know he has spies everywhere; and he has the hill people
terrorized, they say. You think this is his work?"

"It's a big thing--the kind of job he likes to tackle. Who else would dare
do such a thing?"

"That's what father thinks. If he had stolen the President of the United
States, it wouldn't have stirred up a bigger fuss. Newspaper men and
detectives are hurrying here from all directions. They are sure to catch
him."

"Are they?"

She noticed a curious, derisive contempt in the man's voice, and laid it
to his vanity. "I don't mean that _they_ are. I mean that _you_ are sure
to get him," she hastened to add. "Father thinks you are wonderful."

"I'm much obliged to him," said the man, with almost a sneer.

He seemed to have so good an opinion of himself that he was above praise
even. Melissy was coming to the decision that she did not like him--which
was disappointing, since she had expected to like him immensely.

"I didn't look for you till night. You wired you would be on number
seven," she said. "I understood that was the earliest you could get
here."

His explanation of the change was brief, and invited no further
discussion. "I found I could make an earlier train."

"I'm glad you could. Father says it is always well to start on the trail
while it is fresh."

"Have you ever seen this MacQueen, Miss Lee?" he asked.

"Not unless he was there when Mr. West was kidnapped."

"Did you know any of the men?"

She hesitated. "I thought one was Duncan Boone."

"What made you think so?"

"He was the leader, I think, moved the way he does." Her anger flashed for
an instant. "And acted like him--detestably."

"Was he violent to West? Injure him?"

"No--he didn't do him any physical injury that I saw. I wasn't thinking
about Mr. West."

"Surely he didn't lay hands on _you_!"

She looked up, in time to see the flicker of amusement sponged from his
face. It stirred vague anger in her. "He was insolent and ungentlemanly."

"As how?"

"It doesn't matter how." Her manner specifically declined to
particularize