It might be Poindexter arriving by the more direct route from the steamboat that occasionally laid off the ancient _embarcadero_ of the Los Cuervos Rancho.

But even while watching it her quick ear caught the sound of galloping hoofs behind her.

She turned quickly and saw she was followed by a horseman.

But her momentary alarm was succeeded by a feeling of relief as she recognized the erect figure and square shoulders of Poindexter.

Yet she could not help thinking that he looked more like a militant scout, and less like a cautious legal adviser, than ever.
With unaffected womanliness she rearranged her slightly disordered hair as he drew up beside her.