The girl looked at Keller without answering.

“I reckon I can tell you that, seh,” explained that young man.  “She figured you would jump on me as the guilty party.  It got on her conscience that she had left an innocent man to stand for it.  I shouldn’t wonder but she got to seeing a picture of you-all hanging me or shooting me up.  So she came back to own up, if she saw you had caught me.”

Weaver nodded.  “That’s the way I figure it, too.  Gamest thing I ever saw a woman do,” he said in an undertone to Keller, with whom he was now standing a little apart.

The latter agreed.  “Never saw the beat of it.  She’s scared stiff, too.  Makes it all the pluckier.  What will you do with her?”

“Take her along with me back to the ranch.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” said the young man quickly.

“Wouldn’t you?” Weaver’s hard gaze went over him haughtily.  “When I want your advice, I’ll ask you for it, young man.  You’re in luck to get off scot-free yourself.  That ought to content you for one day.”

“But what are you going to do with her?  Surely not have her imprisoned for attacking you?”

“I’ll do as I dashed please, and don’t you forget it, Mr. Keller.  Better mind your own business, if you’ve got any.”

With which Buck Weaver turned on his heel, and swung slowly to the saddle.  His arm was paining him a great deal, but he gave no sign of it.  He expected his men to game it out when they ran into bad luck, and he was stoic enough to set them an example without making any complaints.

The little group of riders turned down the trail, passed through the gateway that led to the valley below, and wound down among the cow-backed hills toward the ranch roofs, which gleamed in the distance.  They were the houses of the Twin Star outfit, the big concern owned by Buck Weaver, whose cattle fed literally upon a thousand hills.

It suited Buck’s ironic humor to ride beside the girl who had just attempted his life.  He bore her no resentment.  Had the offender been a man, Buck would have snuffed out his life with as little remorse as he would a guttering candle.  But her sex and her youth, and some quality of charm in her, had altered the equation.  He meant to show her who was master, but he would choose a different method.

What sport to tame the spirit of this wild desert beauty until she should come like one of her own sheep dogs at his beck and call!  He had never yet met the woman he could not dominate.  This one, too, would know a good many new emotions before she rejoined her tribe in the hills.

He swung from the saddle at the ranch plaza, and greeted her with a deep bow that mocked her.

“Welcome, Miss Sanderson, to the best the Twin Star outfit has to offer.  I hope you will enjoy your visit, which is going to be a long one.”

To a Mexican woman, who had come out to the porch in answer to his call, he delivered the girl, charging her duty in two quick sentences of Spanish.  The woman nodded her understanding, and led Phyllis inside.