I sure am when it comes to
shootin' off my mouth about Bannister."
"And you, Mr. Morgan?"
It struck her that the young puncher waited with a curious
interest for the answer of the foreman.
"Did it look like I was afraid this mawnin', ma'am?" he asked,
with narrowed eyes.
"No, you all seemed brave enough then, when you had him eight to
one."
"I wasn't there," hastily put in McWilliams. "I don't go gunning
for my man without giving him a show."
"I do," retorted Morgan cruelly. "I'd go if we was fifty to one.
We'd 'a' got him, too, if it hadn't been for Miss Messiter. 'Twas
a chance we ain't likely to get again for a year."
"It wasn't your fault you didn't kill him, Mr. Morgan," she said,
looking hard at him. "You may be interested to know that your
last shot missed him only about six inches, and me about four."
"I didn't know who you were," he sullenly defended.
"I see. You only shoot at women when you don't know who they
are." She turned her back on him pointedly and addressed herself
to McWilliams. "You can tell the men working on this ranch that I
won't have any more such attacks on this man Bannister. I don't
care what or who he is. I don't propose to have him murdered by
my employees.
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