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anywhere。 He's a long； slim fellow； built like a mountain lion。 You couldn't
look at him and ever forget him。 He's one of these graceful； easy men that
go so fur with fool women； one of the kind that half shuts his dark； devil
eyes and masters them without seeming to try。〃
〃So he's a woman killer； too； is he？ Any more outstanding
inconsistencies in this versatile Jesse James？〃
〃He's plumb crazy about music； they say。 Has a piano and plays Grigg
and Chopping； and all that classical kind of music。 He went clear down to
Denver last year to hear Mrs。 Shoeman sing。〃
Helen smiled； guessing at Schumann…Heink as the singer in question；
and Grieg and Chopin as the composers named。 Her interest was
incredibly aroused。 She had expected the West and its products to
exhilarate her； but she had not looked to find so finished a Mephisto
among its vaunted 〃bad men。〃 He was probably overrated； considered a
wonder because his accomplishments outstepped those of the range。 But
Helen Messiter had quite determined on one thing。 She was going to meet
this redoubtable villain and make up her mind for herself。 Already； before
she had been in Wyoming six hours； this emancipated young woman had
decided on that。
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WYOMING：A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
CHAPTER 3。 AN INVITATION
GIVEN AND ACCEPTED
And already she had met him。 Not only met him； but saved him from
the just vengeance about to fall upon him。 She had not yet seen her own
ranch； had not spoken to a single one of her employees； for it had been a
part of her plan to drop in unexpected and examine the situation before her
foreman had a chance to put his best foot forward。 So she had started
alone from Gimlet Butte that morning in her machine； and had come
almost in sight of the Lazy D ranch houses when the battle in the coulee
invited her to take a hand。
She had acted on generous impulse； and the unforeseen result had been
to save this desperado from justice。 But the worst of it was that she could
not find it in her heart to regret it。 Granted that he was a villain； double…
dyed and beyond hope； yet he was the home of such courage； such virility；
that her unconsenting admiration went out in spite of herself。 He was； at
any rate； a MAN； square…jawed； resolute； implacable。 In the sinuous trail
of his life might lie arson； robbery； murder； but he still held to that
dynamic spark of self…respect that is akin to the divine。 Nor was it possible
to believe that those unblinking gray eyes； with the capability of a latent
sadness of despair in them； expressed a soul entirely without nobility。 He
had a certain gallant ease； a certain attractive candor； that did not consist
with villainy unadulterated。
It was characteristic even of her impulsiveness that Helen Messiter
curbed the swift condemnation that leaped to her lips when she knew that
the man sitting beside her was the notorious bandit of the Shoshone
fastnesses。 She was not in the least afraid。 A sure instinct told her he was
not the kind of a man of whom a woman need have fear so long as her
own anchor held fast。 In good time she meant to let him have her
unvarnished opinion of him； but she did not mean it to be an unconsidered
one。 Wherefore she drove the machine forward toward the camelbacked
peak he had indicated； her eyes straight before her； a frown corrugating
her forehead。
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WYOMING：A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
For him； having made his dramatic announcement； he seemed content
for the present with silence。 He leaned back in the car and appreciated her
with a coolness that just missed impudence。 Certainly her appearance
proclaimed her very much worth while。 To dwell on the long lines of her
supple young body； the exquisite throat and chin curve； was a pleasure
with a thrill to it。 As a physical creation； a mere innocent young animal； he
thought her perfect； attuned to a fine harmony of grace and color。 But it
was the animating vitality of her； the lightness of motion； the fire and
sparkle of expression that gave her the captivating charm she possessed。
They were two miles nearer the camel…backed peak before he broke
the silence。
〃Beats a bronco for getting over the ground。 Think I'll have to get
one；〃 he mused aloud。
〃With the money you took from the Ayr bank？〃 she flashed。
〃I might drive off some of your cows and sell them；〃 he countered；
promptly。 〃About how much will they hold me up for a machine like
this？〃
〃This is only a runabout。 You can get one for twelve or fourteen
hundred dollars of anybody's money。〃
〃Of yours？〃 he laughed。
〃I haven't that much with me。 If you'll come over and hold up the
ranch perhaps we might raise it among us；〃 she jeered。
His mirth was genuine。 〃But right now I couldn't get more than how
much off y'u？〃
〃Sixty…three dollars is all I have with me； and I couldn't give you
moreNOT EVEN IF YOU PUT RED HOT IRONS BETWEEN MY
FINGERS。〃 She gave it to him straight； her blue eyes fixed steadily on
him。
Yet she was not prepared for the effect of her words。 The last thing she
had expected was to see the blood wash out of his bronzed face； to see his
sensitive nostrils twitch with pain。 He made her feel as if she had insulted
him； as if she had been needlessly cruel。 And because of it she hardened
her heart。 Why should she spare him the mention of it？ He had not
hesitated at the shameless deed itself。 Why should she shrink before that
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WYOMING：A STORY OF THE OUTDOOR WEST
wounded look that leaped to his fine eyes in that flash of time before he
hardened them to steel？
〃You did itdidn't you？〃 she demanded。
〃That's what they say。〃 His gaze met her defiantly。
〃And it is true； isn't it？〃
〃Oh； anything is true of a man that herds sheep；〃 he returned； bitterly。
〃If that is true it would not be possible for you to understand how
much I despise you。〃
〃Thank you；〃 he retorted； ironically。
〃I don't understand at all。 I don't see how you