Them hotel people has their own places to ride and drive, and it's all right for you, Miss; but what's yo' frien' ridin' the hills for at night?
He's lookin' for some un', and I reckon as how that some un' air me!" He spoke drawlingly with a lazy good humor in his tones, and Shirley's wits took advantage of his deliberation to consider the situation from several points of view.

Chauvenet stood looking from Shirley to the man and back again.

He was by no means a coward, and he did not in the least relish the thought of owing his safety to a woman.

But the confidence with which Shirley addressed the man, and her apparent familiarity with the peculiarities of the mountaineers impressed him.

He spoke to her rapidly in French.
"Assure the man that I never heard of him before in my life--that the idea of seeking him never occurred to me." The rifle--a repeater of the newest type--went to the man's shoulder in a flash and the blue barrel pointed at Chauvenet's head.
"None o' that! I reckon the American language air good enough for these 'ere negotiations." Chauvenet shrugged his shoulders; but he gazed into the muzzle of the rifle unflinchingly.
"The gentleman was merely explaining that you are mistaken; that he does not know you and never heard of you before, and that he has not been looking for you in the mountains or anywhere else." As Shirley spoke these words very slowly and distinctly she questioned for the first time Chauvenet's position.