The banker of whom no doubt she had heard? He
owned a big _residencia_ just yonder; you could catch the gleam of its
white walls through a clump of cottonwoods, withdrawn aloofly from San
Juan's street. Many men worked for him; he had big cattle and sheep
ranches throughout the county; he paid well and loaned out much money.
Also he had a beautiful wife and a truly marvellously beautiful
daughter. And horses such as one could not look upon elsewhere. Then
there was Senor Nortone, as Ignacio pronounced him; a sincere friend of
Ignacio Chavez and a man fearless and true and extravagantly to be
admired, who, it appeared, was the sheriff. Not a family man; he was
too young yet. But soon; oh, one could see! It would be Ignacio who
would ring the bells for the wedding when Roderico Nortone married
himself with the daughter of the banker.
"He is what you call a gunman, isn't he?" asked the girl, interested.
"I heard two of the men on the stage talking of him. They called him
Roddy Norton; he is the one, isn't he?"
_Seguro_; sure, he was the one. A gunman? Ignacio shrugged. He was
sheriff, and what must a sheriff be if not a gunman?
"On the stage," continued the girl, "was a man they called Doc; and
another named Galloway. They are San Juan men, are they not?"
Ignacio lifted his brows a shade disdainfully.
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