wiping the tears of delight from her eyes. "Talk right out as if you was a man. I won't hurt you."
"I jest wanted to ask," said Dan, "if these are real men?"
The ready laughter started, checked, and died suddenly away. The cattlemen looked at each other in puzzled surprise.
"Don't they look like it to you, honey?" asked Jacqueline curiously.
Dan allowed his eyes to pass lingeringly around the table from face to face.
"I dunno," he said at last, "they look sort of queer to me."
"For God's sake cut this short, Dan," pleaded Tex Calder in an undertone. "Let them have all the rope they want. Don't trip up our party before we get started."
"Queer?" echoed Jacqueline, and there was a deep murmur from the men.
"Sure," said Dan, smiling upon her again, "they all wear their guns so awful high."
Out of the dead silence broke the roar of the sandy-haired man: "What'n hell d'you mean by that?"
Dan leaned forward on one elbow, his right hand free and resting on the edge of the table, but still his smile was almost a caress.
