"
"Manners?" queried the Easterner, smiling up to the girl.
She turned, caught him beneath the chin with one hand, tilting his face,
and raised the lessoning forefinger of the other while she stared down
at him with a half frown and a half smile like a schoolteacher about to
discipline a recalcitrant boy.
"Western manners," she said, "mean first not to doubt a man till he
tries to double-cross you, and not to trust him till he saves your life;
to keep your gun inside the leather till you're backed up against the
wall, and then to start shootin' as soon as the muzzle is past the
holster. Then the thing to remember is that the fast shootin' is fine,
but sure shootin' is a lot better. D'you get me?"
"That's a fine sermon," smiled Bard, "but you're too young to make a
convincing preacher, Miss Fortune."
"Misfortune," said the girl quickly, "don't have to be old to do a lot
of teachin'."
She sat back and regarded him with something of a frown and with folded
arms.
He said with a sudden earnestness: "You seem to take it for granted that
I'm due for a lot of trouble.
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