Yet she moved not one atom.
He wore a brown flannel shirt, open at the throat, brown leather belt and boots; in short, his whole costume was in harmonious shades of brown, and looked new as if it had been worn but a few days.

His soft felt sombrero was rolled back from his face, and the young red sun tinged the short brown curls to a ruddy gold.

He was looking toward the rising sun.

The gleam of it shot across his brace of pistols in his belt, and flashed twin rays into her eyes.

Then all at once the man turned and looked at her.
Instantly the girl sprang to her feet, her hands upon her pistol, her eyes meeting with calm, desperate defiance the blue ones that were turned to her.