this."

I stepped back and drew my gun.

"I didn't see how you did that," she said curiously. "Try it again."

I complied, and still she was not quick enough of eye to see my draw.
Then I did it slowly, explaining to her the action of hand and then of
finger. She seemed fascinated, as a woman might have been by the
striking power of a rattlesnake.

"So men's lives depend on that! How horrible for me to be interested--to
ask about it--to watch you! But I'm out here on the frontier now, caught
somehow in its wildness, and I feel a relief, a gladness to know Vaughn
Steele has the skill you claim. Thank you, Russ."

She seemed about to dismiss me then, for she rose and half turned away.
Then she hesitated. She had one hand at her breast, the other on the
bench. "Have you been with him--talked to him lately?" she asked, and a
faint rose tint came into her cheeks. But her eyes were steady, dark,
and deep, and peered through and far beyond me.

"Yes, I've met him a few times, around places."

"Did he ever speak of--of me?"

"Once or twice, and then as if he couldn't help it."

"What did he say?"