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A white-stockinged roan, plowing a way through heavy sand, labored into view round the bend, its rider slewed in the saddle with his whole attention upon the possible pursuit Not until he was almost upon her did the ht of the ure, he pulled up sharply It was the nester, Keller

"You," she cried

"Happy to meet you, Miss Sanderson," he told her jauntily

His revolver slid into its holster, and his hat caleamed in a sardonic smile

"So you are a--rustler," she told him scornfully

"I hate to contradict a lady," he ca else, a deepening stain that soaked slowly down his shirt sleeve

"You are wounded"

"Am I?"

"Aren't you?"

"Cohed shortly

"Badly?"