He was an enemy of her father.

Long had range rumor been bandied from lip to lip--old Gass Isbel had sent for his Indian son to fight the Jorths.

Jean Isbel--son of a Texan--unerring shot--peerless tracker--a bad and dangerous man! Then there flashed over Ellen a burning thought--if it were true, if he was an enemy of her father's, if a fight between Jorth and Isbel was inevitable, she ought to kill this Jean Isbel right there in his tracks as he boldly and confidently waited for her.

Fool he was to think she would come.
Ellen sank down and dropped her head until the strange tremor of her arms ceased.

That dark and grim flash of thought retreated.