“Well, she ain’t, if that’s any comfort.”

With which, Mr. Davis handed back the letter.  “What did you answer to the billy doo?”

“I said that Mr. Gordon presented his compliments and begged to reply that he had large business interests in this part of the country that necessitated a visit of some length, and probably in the end a permanent residence here; and that he would very fully absolve Miss Valdes of any responsibility for his remaining.”

“Both of you used up a heap of dictionary words; but that wasn’t so bad, either,” grinned Steve.  “You got back at her, all right, for the ‘pleasure trip’ part of her letter, but I expect you and she would disagree as to what that ‘permanent residence’ means.  I hope it won’t be more permanent than you think.”

From the rocks above came the sound of an exploding rifle.  Dick’s hat was lifted from his head as by a gust of wind.  Immediately after they caught sight of a slim, boyish figure dodging among the rocks.

“There he goes,” cried Dick; and he slid from his saddle and took up the chase.

“Come back.  There may be several of them up there,” called the old miner.

Gordon paid no attention; and Steve had nothing left to do but follow him up the rocky hillside.

“He’ll spoil that game leg of his again, first thing he knows,” the old-timer growled as he followed in the rear.

Presently a second shot rang out.  Davis hastened forward as fast as he could.

At the top of the ridge he came on his companion sitting behind a rock.

“Lost him in these rocks, did you?” he asked.

A sardonic smile lit up the face of his friend.

“No, Steve, I found him; but he persuaded me I oughtn’t to travel so fast on this leg.  You see, he had a rifle, and my six-gun was outclassed.  I couldn’t get into range, and decided to hunt cover, after he took another crack at me.”

“I should think you’d know better than to go hunting bear with a twenty-two.”

“It ain’t a twenty-two; but, for a fact, it don’t carry a mile.  I got what I want, though.  I know who the gentleman is.”

“Sure it wasn’t a lady, Dick?”

“Don’t you, Steve,” warned Gordon.  “She’s a lady and a Christian.  You wouldn’t say that if you knew her.  Besides, she saved my life.”

“Who was it?  That Pesky fellow?”

“No.  He’s hot-blooded; but he wouldn’t strike below the belt.  He’s a gentleman.  This was one of the lads on her home-place, an eighteen-year-old boy named Pedro.  He’s in love with her.  I saw it soon as I set eyes on him the day I went there.  He worships her as if she were a saint.  Of course, he loves her without any hope; but that doesn’t keep him from being jealous of me.  He’s heard about the row, and he thinks he’ll do her a service by putting me out of the game.”

“Sort of fix you up with that permanent residence you were talking about,” suggested Steve.