"What do y'u think?" he responded, coolly.

She flushed angrily at what she accepted as his insolence. "A man
of any decency would have jumped at the chance to explain."

"But if there is nothing to explain?"

"You are then guilty."

Their eyes met, and neither of them quailed.

"If I pleaded not guilty would y'u believe me?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. How could I when it is known by
everybody? And yet--"

He smiled. "Why should I trouble y'u, then, with explanations? I
reckon we'll let it go at guilty."

"Is that all you can say for yourself?"

He seemed to hang in doubt an instant, then shook his head and
refused the opening.

"I expect if we changed the subject I could say a good deal for
y'u," he drawled. "I never saw anything pluckier than the way y'u
flew down from the mesa and conducted the cutting-out expedition.
Y'u sure drilled through your punchers like a streak of
lightning."