"I shan't be a terror to y'u, ma'am, if I can help it," he
smiled.

"But you are the man they call the king?"

"I have that honor."

"HONOR?"

At the sharp scorn of her accent he laughed.

"Do you mean that you are proud of your villainy?" she demanded.

"Y'u've ce'tainly got the teacher habit of asking questions," he
replied with a laugh that was a sneer.

A shadow fell across them and a voice said quietly, "She didn't
wait to ask any when she saved your life down in the coulee back
of the Lazy D."

The shadow was Jim McWilliams's, and its owner looked down at the
man beside the girl with steady, hostile eyes.

"Is this your put in, sir?" the other flashed back.

"Yes, seh, it is. The boys don't quite like seeing your hardware
so prominent at a social gathering. In this community guns don't
come into the house at a ranch dance. I'm a committee to mention
the subject and to collect your thirty-eights if y'u agree with
us."