But she would not turn her head toward his voice, for all that.
"The gentleman called Burns may walk out into the open and explain, if he can," she announced sharply, her eyes upon the three whom she had captured so easily.
She heard the throaty chuckle again, from somewhere to the left of her.
She saw the three men in front of her look at each other with sickly grins.

She felt that the whole situation was swinging against her,--that she had somehow blundered and made herself ridiculous.

It never occurred to her that she was in any particular danger; men did not shoot down women in that country, unless they were drunk or crazy, and the man called Burns had sounded extremely sane, humorous even.
She heard a rattle of bushes and the soft crunching of footsteps coming toward her.

Still she would not turn her head, nor would she lower the gun; if it was a trick, they should not say that it had been successful.
"It's all right, sister," said the chuckling voice presently, almost at her elbow.

"This isn't any real, honest-to-John bandit party.