"I reckon I'll not wait for your father's report, Miss Lee. I work
independent of other men. That is how I get the wonderful results I do."
His conceit nettled her; also, it stung her filial loyalty. "My father was
the best sheriff this county ever had," she said stiffly.
He smiled satirically. "Still, I reckon I'll handle this my own
way--unless your father's daughter wants to go partners with me in it."
She gave him a look intended to crush his impudence. "No, thank you."
He ate a breakfast which she had the cook prepare hurriedly for him, and
departed on the horse for which she had telephoned to the nearest livery
stable. Melissy was a singularly fearless girl; yet she watched him go
with a decided relief, for which she could not account. He rode, she
observed, like a centaur--flat-backed, firm in the saddle with the easy
negligence of a plainsman. He turned as he started, and waved a hand
debonairly at her.
"If I have any luck, I'll bring back one of the Roaring Fork bunch with
me--a present for a good girl, Miss Melissy."
She turned on her heel and went inside. Anger pulsed fiercely through her.
He laughed at her, made fun of her, and yet called her by her first name.
How dared he treat her so! Worst of all, she read admiration bold and
unveiled in the eyes that mocked her.
Half an hour later Flatray, riding toward town with his prisoner in front
of him, heard a sudden sharp summons to throw up his hands. A man had
risen from behind a boulder, and held him covered steadily.
Jack looked at the fellow without complying. He needed no second glance to
tell him that this man was not one to be trifled with. "Who are you?" he
demanded quietly.
"Never mind who I am. Reach for the sky."
The captured outlaw had given a little whoop, and was now loosening the
rope from his neck. "You're the goods, Cap! I knew the boys would pull it
off for me, but I didn't reckon on it so durn soon."
"Shut up!" ordered the man behind the gun, without moving his eyes from
Flatray.
"I'm a clam," retorted the other.
"I'm waiting for those hands to go up; but I'll not wait long, seh."
Jack's hands went up reluctantly. "You've got the call," he admitted.
They led him a couple of hundred yards from the trail and tied him hand
and foot. Before they left him the outlaw whom he had captured evened his
score. Three times he struck Flatray on the head with the butt of his
revolver. He was lying on the ground bleeding and senseless when they rode
away toward the hills.