At the summons the driver swung his head sharply to a picture he will
never forget. A young woman was standing on the bank at the edge of
the road covering him with a revolver, having apparently just stepped
from behind the trunk of the cottonwood beside her. The color had fled
her cheeks even to the edge of the dull red-copper waves of hair, but
he could detect in her slim young suppleness no doubt or uncertainty.
On the contrary, despite her girlish freshness, she looked very much
like business. She was like some young wild creature of the forest
cornered and brought to bay, but the very terror in her soul rendered
her more dangerous. Of the heart beating like a trip-hammer the gray
unwinking eyes that looked into hers read nothing. She had schooled
her taut nerves to obedience, and they answered her resolute will
steadily despite fluttering pulses.

"Don't move!" she said again.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

"I want your team," she panted.

"What for?"

"Never mind. I want it."

The rigor of his gaze slowly softened to a smile compound both of
humor and grimness. He was a man to appreciate a piquant situation,
none the less because it was at his expense. The spark that gleamed in
his bold eye held some spice of the devil.