He had quick, dancing brown eyes, at once frank and bold, and a coarse, bronzed face.

Evidently he was a good-natured ruffian.
Duane acknowledged the truth of the assertion, and turned over in his mind how shrewdly the fellow had guessed him to be a hunted man.
"My name's Luke Stevens, an' I hail from the river.

Who're you ?" said this stranger.
Duane was silent.
"I reckon you're Buck Duane," went on Stevens.

"I heerd you was a damn bad man with a gun." This time Duane laughed, not at the doubtful compliment, but at the idea that the first outlaw he met should know him.

Here was proof of how swiftly facts about gun-play traveled on the Texas border.
"Wal, Buck," said Stevens, in a friendly manner, "I ain't presumin' on your time or company.