.

"Would you recognize him again if you met him? Describe him, if you can."

"Yes. I used to know him well--before he became known as an outlaw," she
added after a perceptible hesitation. "There's something ravenous about
him."

"You mean that he is fierce and bloodthirsty?"

"No--I don't mean that; though, for that matter, I don't think he would
stick at anything. What I mean is that he is pantherine in his
movements--more lithe and supple than most men are."

"Is he a big man?"

"No--medium size, and dark."

"There were four of them, you say?"

"Yes. Jack saw them, too, but at a distance."

"He reached you after they were out of sight?"

"They had been gone about five minutes when I saw him--five or ten. I
couldn't be sure."

"Boone offered no personal indignity to you?"

"Why are you so sure?" she flashed.

"The story is that he is quite the ladies' man."

Melissy laughed scornfully.

At his request, she went over again the story of the abduction, telling
everything save the matter of the ravished kisses. This she kept to
herself. She did not quite know why, except that there was something she
did not like about this Bucky O'Connor. He had a trick of narrowing his
eyes and gloating over her, as a cat gloats over its expected kill.

However, his confidence impressed her. Cocksure he was, and before long
she knew him boastful; but competence sat on him, none the less. She
thought she could see why he was held to be the most deadly bloodhound on
a trail that even Arizona could produce. That he was fearless she did not
need to be told, any more than she needed a certificate that on occasion
he could be merciless. On the other hand, he fitted very badly with the
character of the young lieutenant of rangers, as Jack Flatray had sketched
it for her. Her friend's description of his hero had been enthusiastic.
She decided that the young cattleman was a bad judge of men--though, of
course, he had never actually met O'Connor.

"I reckon I'll not wait for your father's report, Miss Lee. I work
independent of other men. That is how I get the wonderful results I do."

His conceit nettled her; also, it stung her filial loyalty. "My father was
the best sheriff this county ever had," she said stiffly.

He smiled satirically. "Still, I reckon I'll handle this my own
way--unless your father's daughter wants to go partners with me in it."

She gave him a look intended to crush his impudence. "No, thank you."