Thurston did not look at her again; he did not like the
expression of her mouth.

News of the holdup had been telegraphed ahead, and all
Shellanne--which was not much of a crowd--gathered at the
station to meet the train and congratulate the heroes. Thurston
alighted almost shamefacedly into the midst of the loud-voiced
commotion. While he was looking uncertainly about him,
wondering where to go and what to do, a voice he knew hailed him
with drawling welcome.

"Hello, Bud. Got back quicker than you expected, didn't yuh?
It's lucky I happened to be in town--yuh can ride out with me.
Say, yuh got quite a bunch uh local color for a story, didn't
yuh? You'll be writing blood-and-thunder for a month on the
strength of this little episode, I reckon." his twinkling eyes
teased, though his face was quite serious, as was his voice.

She of the blue-gray eyes turned and measured Thurston with a
deliberate, leisurely glance, and her mouth still had that
unpleasant expression. Thurston colored guiltily, but Hank
Graves lifted his hat and called her Mona, and asked her if she
wasn't scared stiff, and if she were home to stay. Then he
beckoned to the tawny-haired fellow with his finger, and winked
at Mona--a proceeding which shocked Thurston considerably.

"Mona--here, hold on a minute, can't yuh? Mona, this is a friend
uh mine; Bud Thurston's his name. He's come out to study us up
and round up a hunch uh real Western atmosphere. He's a
story-writer. I used to whack bulls all over the country with