now," retorted Sanderson grimly. "We were starting right out after you,
seh. But seeing you're here it saves trouble. Better 'light, you and
your friend, both."

The declining sun flashed on three weapons that already covered the
cattleman. He looked easily from one to another, without the least
concern, and swung lightly from his horse.

"Much obliged. Glad to accept your hospitality. But about this young man
here--he's not exactly a friend of mine--a mere pick-up acquaintance, in
fact. You mustn't accept him on my say-so. Of course, you know _I'm_ all
right, but I can't guarantee _him_," Buck drawled, with magnificent
effrontery.

Phyllis spoke up unexpectedly. "_I_ can."

Keller looked at her gratefully. It was not that he cared so much for
the certificate of character as for the friendly spirit that prompted
it. "That's right kind of you," he nodded.

"We haven't heard yet what you are doing here, Buck Weaver," old Jim
Sanderson said, holding the cattleman with a hard and hostile eye. "And
after you've explained that, there are a few other things to make
clear."

"Such as----" suggested the plainsman.

"Such as keeping my daughter a captive and insulting her while she was
in your house," the father retorted promptly.