"It's all right, miss. He won't bother you now."

"Is he dead?" queried the girl.

"I reckon not."

"I heard a shot. I thought you killed him."

"No, ma'am. He took a crack at me. I don't pack a gun."

"You're a cowboy?" And the girl laughed nervously, despite her effort to
hold herself together.

"I aim to be," said Lorry, a trifle brusquely.

The elder woman peered through her fingers. "Another one!" she moaned.

"No, mother. This one is a cowboy. It's all right."

"It sure is. What was his game?"

"He told us to give him our money."

"Uh-uh. This is the second holdup here at the Notch this summer."

"He's trying to get up!" exclaimed the girl.

"My hoss'll take care of him."

"But your horse might drag him to death."