The Mexican smiled behind his open hand. "Your question anticipates mine,
Senor. I too ask the same."

The sight of his daughter in the doorway went through the cattleman with a
chilling shock. She ran forward and with a pathetic cry of joy threw
herself upon him where he stood. His hands were tied behind him. Only by
the turn of his head and by brushing his unshaven face against hers could
he answer her caresses. There was a look of ineffable tenderness on his
face, for he loved her more than anything else on earth.

"Mr. Fendrick brought me," she explained when articulate expression was
possible.

"He brought you, did he?" Luck looked across her shoulder at his enemy,
and his eyes grew hard as jade.

"Of my own free will," she added.

"I promised you a better argument than those I'd given you. Miss Cullison
is that argument," Fendrick said.

The cattleman's set face had a look more deadly than words. It told
Fendrick he would gladly have killed him where he stood. For Luck knew he
was cornered and must yield. Neither Dominguez nor Blackwell would consent
to let her leave otherwise.

"He brought me here to have a talk with you, Dad. You must sign any paper
he wants you to sign."

"And did he promise to take you back home after our talk?"

"Miss Cullison would not want to leave as long as her father was here,"
Fendrick answered for her glibly with a smile that said more than the
words.

"I'm going to hold you responsible for bringing her here."

Fendrick could not face steadily the eyes of his foe. They bored into him
like gimlets.

"And responsible for getting her back home just as soon as I say the
word," Luck added, the taut muscles standing out in his clenched jaw.

"I expect your say-so won't be final in this matter, Luck. But I'll take
the responsibility. Miss Cullison will get home at the proper time."

"I'm not going home till you do," the girl broke in. "Oh, Dad, we've been
so worried. You can't think."

"You've played a rotten trick on me, Fendrick. I wouldn't have thought it
even of a sheepman."

"No use you getting crazy with the heat, Cullison. Your daughter asked me
to bring her here, and I brought her. Of course I'm not going to break my
neck getting her home where she can 'phone Bolt or Bucky O'Connor and have
us rounded up. That ain't reasonable to expect. But I aim to do what's
right. We'll all have supper together like sensible folks. Then Jose and I
will give you the cabin for the