"Ye'd better," Plutina retorted, "to save my life. I don't know's I mind bein' embarrassed so much, but I don't feel called to die yit."
"No, no; there won't be anything like that," the marshal exclaimed, much disconcerted. "I'll see no trouble comes to you. Nobody'll know your part."
"'Cept me!" was the bitter objection. "If 'twas anybody but that ornery galoot, I wouldn't say a word. Ye know that."
"I know," Stone admitted, placatingly.
In his desire to change her mood, he blundered on: "And there's the reward for getting the 'copper'--twenty dollars for you Plutina. If we get Hodges, I'll give you another fifty out of my own pocket. That'll buy you a nice new dress or two, and a hat, and some silk stockings for those pretty legs of yours."
Plutina flared. The red glowed hot in her cheeks, and the big eyes flashed. The mellow voice deepened to a note of new dignity, despite her anger.
"I hain't come hyar to gas 'bout rewards, an' money outten yer pocket, Mister Stone, or 'bout my clothes an' sech. I'm an engaged woman. When I wants to cover my legs with stockin's Zeke Higgins' money'll do the payin', an' he won't need no he'p from no damned revenuer."
Stone, realizing too late the error in his diplomacy, made what haste he could to retrieve it. His smile was genial as he spoke. He seemed quite unabashed, just heartily sympathetic, and his manner calmed the girl's irritation almost at once.
"Oh, you little mountain hornet! Well, you are telling me news now. And it's the kind to make any old bachelor like me weep for envy. Lucky boy, Zeke! I guess he knows it, too, for he's got eyes in his head. About the money--why, you've a right to it. If Dan Hodges and his gang ain't rounded up quick, they'll be killing some good citizen--like me, perhaps."
Plutina had recovered her poise, but she spoke no less firmly: "No, suh, I won't tech the money. I kin show ye how to kotch the hull gang, but not fer pay, an not fer love o' no revenuer, neither. Hit's jest fer the good o' this country hyarbout. Dan Hodges has done sot b'ar-traps to kotch you-all. An' anybody might walk plumb into 'em, but not if I kin he'p hit."
Forthwith, she made the situation clear to her eager listener.
"Kin you-all meet me, an hour by the sun in the mornin', on the trail to Cherry Lane post-office jest beyond the Widder Higgins' clearin'? I'll take ye to the place, whar ye kin see the still, an' the traps."