Yet what charm against ambush and aim and enemy he seemed to bear about him! No, Jane reflected, it was not charm; only a wonderful training of eye and ear, and sense of impending peril.
Nevertheless that could not forever avail against secret attack.
That moment a rustling of leaves attracted her attention; then the familiar clinking accompaniment of a slow, soft, measured step, and Lassiter walked into the court.
"Jane, there's a fellow out there with a long gun," he said, and, removing his sombrero, showed his head bound in a bloody scarf.
"I heard the shot; I knew it was meant for you.

Let me see--you can't be badly injured ?" "I reckon not.

But mebbe it wasn't a close call!...

I'll sit here in this corner where nobody can see me from the grove." He untied the scarf and removed it to show a long, bleeding furrow above his left temple.
"It's only a cut," said Jane.

"But how it bleeds! Hold your scarf over it just a moment till I come back." She ran into the house and returned with bandages; and while she bathed and dressed the wound Lassiter talked.
"That fellow had a good chance to get me.