"You'd better shut up," said Riggs, darkly.
"I will not shut up," declared Bo.
"Then I'll gag you," he threatened.
"Gag me! Why, you dirty, low-down, two-bit of a bluff!" she exclaimed, hotly, "I'd like to see you try it. I'll tear that long hair of yours right off your head."
Riggs advanced toward her with his hands clutching, as if eager to throttle her. The girl leaned forward, her face reddening, her eyes fierce.
"You damned little cat!" muttered Riggs, thickly. "I'll gag you--if you don't stop squallin'."
"Come on. I dare you to lay a hand on me.... Harve Riggs, I'm not the least afraid of you. Can't you savvy that? You're a liar, a four-flush, a sneak! Why, you're not fit to wipe the feet of any of these outlaws."
Riggs took two long strides and bent over her, his teeth protruding in a snarl, and he cuffed her hard on the side of the head.
Bo's head jerked back with the force of the blow, but she uttered no cry.
"Are you goin' to keep your jaw shut?" he demanded, stridently, and a dark tide of blood surged up into his neck.
"I should smile I'm not," retorted Bo, in cool, deliberate anger of opposition. "You've roped me--and you've struck me! Now get a club--stand off there--out of my reach--and beat me! Oh, if I only knew cuss words fit for you--I'd call you them!"
Snake Anson had stopped playing cards, and was watching, listening, with half-disgusted, half-amused expression on his serpent-like face. Jim Wilson slowly rose to his feet. If any one had observed him it would have been to note that he now seemed singularly fascinated by this scene, yet all the while absorbed in himself. Once he loosened the neck-band of his blouse.
Riggs swung his arm more violently at the girl. But she dodged.
"You dog!" she hissed. "Oh, if I only had a gun!"
Her face then, with its dead whiteness and the eyes of flame, held a tragic, impelling beauty that stung Anson into remonstrance.
"Aw, Riggs, don't beat up the kid," he protested. "Thet won't do any good. Let her alone."
"But she's got to shut up," replied Riggs.
"How 'n hell air you goin' to shet her up? Mebbe if you get out of her sight she'll be quiet.... How about thet, girl?"
Anson gnawed his drooping mustache as he eyed Bo.
"Have I made any kick to you or your men yet?" she queried.