Without a word Rance walked into the room and over to the table and helped himself to a drink from the bottle there, which action the Wells Fargo Agent rightly interpreted as meaning that the posse had failed to catch their quarry.  At first a glint of satisfaction shone in Ashby’s eyes:  not that he disliked Rance, but rather that he resented his egotistical manner and evident desire to overawe all who came in contact with him; and it required, therefore, no little effort on his part to banish this look from his face and make up his mind not to mention the subject in any manner.

For some time, therefore, the two officers sat opposite to each other inhaling the stale odour of tobacco and spirits peculiar to this room, with little or no ventilation.  It was enough to sicken anyone, but both men, accustomed to such places in the pursuit of their calling, apparently thought nothing of it, the Sheriff seemingly absorbed in contemplating the long ash at the end of his cigar, but, in reality, turning over in his mind whether he should leave the room or not.  At length, he inaugurated a little contest of opinion.

“This woman isn’t coming, that’s certain,” he declared, impatiently.

“I rather think she will; she promised not to fail me,” was the other’s quiet answer; and he added:  “In ten minutes you’ll see her.”

It was a rash remark and expressive of a confidence that he by no means felt.  As a matter of fact, it was induced solely by the cynical smile which he perceived on the Sheriff’s face.

“You, evidently, take no account of the fact that the lady may have changed her mind,” observed Rance, lighting a fresh cigar.  “The Nina Micheltorenas are fully as privileged as others of their sex.”

As he drained his glass Ashby gave the speaker a sharp glance; another side of Rance’s character had cropped out.  Moreover, Ashby’s quick intuition told him that the other’s failure to catch the outlaw was not troubling him nearly as much as was the blow which his conceit had probably received at the hands of the Girl.  It was, therefore, in an indulgent tone that he said: 

“No, Rance, not this one nor this time.  You mark my words, the woman is through with Ramerrez.  At least, she is so jealous that she thinks she is.  She’ll turn up here, never fear; she means business.”

The shoulders of Mr. Jack Rance strongly suggested a shrug, but the man himself said nothing.  They were anything but sympathetic companions, these two officers, and in the silence that ensued Rance formulated mentally more than one disparaging remark about the big man sitting opposite to him.  It is possible, of course, that the Sheriff’s rebuff by the Girl, together with the wild goose chase which he had recently taken against his better judgment, had something to do with this bitterness; but it was none the less true that he found himself wondering how Ashby had succeeded in acquiring his great reputation.  Among