Her dark,
deep-pupiled eyes, long-lashed as Diana's, swept round to meet
his coolly.
"That's a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair,
I guess." He laughed ruefully. "I shouldn't wonder, ma'am, when
election time comes round, if the boys ain't likely to elect to
private life the sheriff that lay down before a bunch of
miscreants."
"Why did you do it?"
His humorous glance roamed round the car. "Now, I couldn't think
it proper for me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And
wouldn't some casual passenger be likely to get his lights put
out when the band began to play? Would you want that Boston
church to be shy a preacher, ma'am?"
Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. "I suppose you had
your reasons for not interfering."
"Surely, ma'am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me."
"Were you afraid?"
"Most men are when Wolf Leroy's gang is on the war path."
"Wolf Leroy?"
"That was Wolf who came in to see they were doing the job right.
He's the worst desperado on the border--a sure enough bad
proposition, I reckon. They say he's part Spanish and part
Indian, but all pisen.
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