for a moment even thought was paralyzed. There before her but a few feet
away stood a man! Beyond him, a few feet from her own horse, stood his
horse. She could not see it without turning her head, and that she dared
not do; but she knew it was there, felt it even before she noticed the
double stamping and breathing of the animals. Her keen senses seemed to
make the whole surrounding landscape visible to her without the moving of
a muscle. She knew to a nicety exactly how her weapons lay, and what
movement would bring her hand to the trigger of her pistol; yet she
stirred not.

Gradually she grew calm enough to study the man before her. He stood
almost with his back turned toward her, his face just half turned so that
one cheek and a part of his brow were visible. He was broad-shouldered and
well built. There was strength in every line of his body. She felt how
powerless she would be in his grasp. Her only hope would be in taking him
unaware. Yet she moved not one atom.

He wore a brown flannel shirt, open at the throat, brown leather belt and
boots; in short, his whole costume was in harmonious shades of brown, and
looked new as if it had been worn but a few days. His soft felt sombrero
was rolled back from his face, and the young red sun tinged the short
brown curls to a ruddy gold. He was looking toward the rising sun. The
gleam of it shot across his brace of pistols in his belt, and flashed twin
rays into her eyes. Then all at once the man turned and looked at her.

Instantly the girl sprang to her feet, her hands upon her pistol, her eyes
meeting with calm, desperate defiance the blue ones that were turned to
her. She was braced against a tree, and her senses were measuring the
distance between her horse and herself, and deciding whether escape were
possible.