Moore turned in his seat, and grinned.
"Some tin soldier," he said sneeringly, "that's a feller I always wanted ter kick, an' some day I'm a goin' ter do it." "You heard what he said ?" "Sure; he was tellin' yer 'bout old Mendez being a Mexican revolutionary leader down in Mex, wa'n't he?
Hell of a leader he is! I reckon he's been mixed up in scrapes enough down thar, but they had mighty little to do with revolutin'.

He's just plain bad man, miss--cattle thief, an' all round outlaw.

There's a price on his head in three States, but nobody dares go after it, because of the dangerous gang he controls." Her eyes sought the distant figure doubtfully.
"And this man--this Juan Cateras--what of him ?" "One of the devil's own imps; I'd a heap rather play with a rattlesnake than him." He paused, to assure him self that Sikes was safely out of hearing.

"I thought maybe I better tell yer while I had a chance.
That fellar is plumb pisen, miss." She reached out her hand, and touched him.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, "I--I am glad you did.

Am--am I to be left here with these--these men ?" "No, not exactly.