Stepping from behind the tree, the woman of the preceding night stood before him.

Her hands were free except for a thong of the riata, which was still knotted around one wrist, the end of the thong having been torn or burnt away.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair hung over her shoulders in one long black braid.
"I reckoned all along it was YOU who shot the bear," she said; "at least some one hiding yer," and she indicated the hollow tree with her hand.
"It wasn't no chance shot." Observing that the young man, either from misconception or indifference, did not seem to comprehend her, she added, "We came by here, last night, a minute after you fired." "Oh, that was YOU kicked up such a row, was it ?" said the young man, with a shade of interest.
"I reckon," said the woman, nodding her head, "and them that was with me." "And who are they ?" "Sheriff Dunn, of Yolo, and his deputy." "And where are they now ?" "The deputy--in h-ll, I reckon; I don't know about the sheriff." "I see," said the young man quietly; "and you ?" "I--got away," she said savagely.

But she was taken with a sudden nervous shiver, which she at once repressed by tightly dragging her shawl over her shoulders and elbows, and folding her arms defiantly.
"And you're going ?" "To follow the deputy, may be," she said gloomily.

"But come, I say, ain't you going to treat?
It's cursed cold here." "Wait a moment." The young man was looking at her, with his arched brows slightly knit and a half smile of curiosity.