"Shore I'd stood there--stock-still--an' never moved an eye-winker."
"An' let her shoot!" ejaculated Anson, nodding his long head. "Me, too!"
So these rough outlaws, inured to all the violence and baseness of their dishonest calling, rose to the challenging courage of a slip of a girl. She had the one thing they respected--nerve.
Just then a halloo, from the promontory brought Anson up with a start. Muttering to himself, he strode out toward the jagged rocks that hid the outlook. Moze shuffled his burly form after Anson.
"Miss, it shore was grand--thet performance of Mister Gunman Riggs," remarked Jim Wilson, attentively studying the girl.
"Much obliged to you for lending me your gun," she replied. "I--I hope I hit him--a little."
"Wal, if you didn't sting him, then Jim Wilson knows nothin' about lead."
"Jim Wilson? Are you the man--the outlaw my uncle Al knew?"
"Reckon I am, miss. Fer I knowed Al shore enough. What 'd he say aboot me?"
"I remember once he was telling me about Snake Anson's gang. He mentioned you. Said you were a real gun-fighter. And what a shame it was you had to be an outlaw."
"Wal! An' so old Al spoke thet nice of me.... It's tolerable likely I'll remember. An' now, miss, can I do anythin' for you?"
Swift as a flash she looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Wal, shore I don't mean much, I'm sorry to say. Nothin' to make you look like thet.... I hev to be an outlaw, shore as you're born. But--mebbe there's a difference in outlaws."
She understood him and paid him the compliment not to voice her sudden upflashing hope that he might be one to betray his leader.
"Please take this rope off my feet. Let me walk a little. Let me have a--a little privacy. That fool watched every move I made. I promise not to run away. And, oh! I'm thirsty."
"Shore you've got sense." He freed her feet and helped her get up. "There'll be some fresh water any minit now, if you'll wait."
Then he turned his back and walked over to where Riggs sat nursing a bullet-burn on his leg.
"Say, Riggs, I'm takin' the responsibility of loosin' the girl for a little spell. She can't get away. An' there ain't any sense in bein' mean."
Riggs made no reply, and went on rolling down his trousers leg, lapped a fold over at the bottom and pulled on his boot. Then he strode out toward the promontory. Half-way there he encountered Anson tramping back.