vindicates my judgment," she declared.

He was regarding her with unwavering eyes. "Is that gun-man goin' to
be the hero in your story, ma'am?" he asked quietly.

"Why, of course."

"An' I'm to be him?"

She gave him a defiant glance, though she blushed immediately.

"Why do you ask?" she questioned in reply. "You need have no fear that
I will compel my hero to do anything dishonorable."

"I ain't fearin' anything," he returned. "But I'd like to know how you
come to think of that. Do writers make them things up out of their own
minds, or does someone tell them?"

"Those things generally have their origin in the mind of the writer,"
she replied.

"Meanin' that you thought of that yourself?" he persisted.

"Of course."

He lifted his foot from the rock and stood looking gravely at her. "In
most of the books I have read there's always a villain. I reckon
you're goin' to have one?"

"There will be a villain," she returned.

His eyes flashed queerly. "Would you mind tellin' me who you have
picked out for your villain?" he continued.

"I don't mind," she said. "It is Leviatt."

He suddenly grinned broadly and held out his right hand to her.
"Shake, ma'am," he said. "I reckon if I was writin' a book Leviatt
would be the villain."

She rose from the rock and took his outstretched hand, her eyes
drooping as they met his. He felt her hand tremble a little, and he
looked at it, marveling. She glanced up, saw him looking at her hand,
swiftly withdrew it, and turned from him, looking down into the flat at
the base of the hill. She started, uttering the sharp command:

"Look!"

Perhaps a hundred yards distant, sitting on his pony in a lounging
attitude, was a horseman. While they looked the horseman removed his
broad brimmed hat, bowed mockingly, and urged his pony out into the
flat. It was Leviatt.

On the slight breeze a laugh floated back to them, short, sharp,
mocking.

For a time they stood silent, watching the departing rider. Then
Ferguson's lips wreathed into a feline smile.

"Kind of dramatic, him ridin' up that-a-way," he said. "Don't you
think puttin' him in the book will spoil it, ma'am?"

CHAPTER XIII

"DO YOU SMOKE?"

Leviatt rode down through the gully where Miss Radford had first caught
sight of Ferguson when he had entered the flat. He disappeared in this
and five minutes later came out upon a ridge above it. The distance
was too great to observe whether he tur