party later on. Why, boys, you-all know that Jig ain't guilty of no
harm!"

"Sally," said the wretched Denver Jim, "things seemed to be sort of
pointing to a--"

There was a growl from the rear of the party, and Riley Sinclair strode
to the front and faced the girl. "They's a gent charged with murder
inside," he said. "Stand off, girl. You're in the way!"

Before she answered him, her teeth glinted. If she had been a man, she
would have struck him in the face. He saw that, and it pleased him.

"Stranger," she said deliberately, making sure that every one in the
party should hear her words, "what you need is a stay around Sour Creek
long enough for the boys to teach you how to talk to a lady."

"Honey," replied Riley Sinclair with provoking calm, "you sure put up a
tidy bluff. Maybe you'd tell a judge that you knowed all these gents
behind their masks, but they wouldn't be no way you could _prove_ it!"

A stir behind him was ample assurance that this simple point had
escaped the cowpunchers. All the soul of the girl stood up in her eyes
and hated Riley Sinclair, and again he was pleased. It was not that he
wished to bring the schoolteacher to trouble, but it had angered him to
see one girl balk seven grown men.

"Stand aside," said Riley Sinclair.

"Not an inch!"