for attacking you?"

"I'll do as I dashed please, and don't you forget it, Mr. Keller. Better
mind your own business, if you've got any."

With which Buck Weaver turned on his heel, and swung slowly to the
saddle. His arm was paining him a great deal, but he gave no sign of it.
He expected his men to game it out when they ran into bad luck, and he
was stoic enough to set them an example without making any complaints.

The little group of riders turned down the trail, passed through the
gateway that led to the valley below, and wound down among the
cow-backed hills toward the ranch roofs, which gleamed in the distance.
They were the houses of the Twin Star outfit, the big concern owned by
Buck Weaver, whose cattle fed literally upon a thousand hills.

It suited Buck's ironic humor to ride beside the girl who had just
attempted his life. He bore her no resentment. Had the offender been a
man, Buck would have snuffed out his life with as little remorse as he
would a guttering candle. But her sex and her youth, and some quality of
charm in her, had altered the equation. He meant to show her who was
master, but he would choose a different method.

What sport to tame the spirit of this wild desert beauty until she
should come like one of her own sheep dogs at his beck and call! He had
never yet met the woman he could not dominate. This one, too, would know
a good many new emotions before she rejoined her tribe in the hills.

He swung from the saddle at the ranch plaza, and greeted her with a deep
bow that mocked her.