I felt a little throb of annoyance that she already chose to use his first name. The ways of women never cease to startle, I guess. There Billy Bone sat: young, short, dirty, ugly, and violent—and American—a boy with no grace and no learning, and yet the tall, brilliant, beautiful daughter of the Cavendishes and the Montstuarts had chosen to make him her paramour—I could see that plainly.

I don’t think Billy heard the question the first time. He was so entranced with Cecily Snow that if he could have forgotten to breathe I’ve no doubt he would have suffocated then and there.

“Do you think you could kill that nigger, Billy?” Cecily asked again, and this time Billy heard. Cecily had an avid gleam in her eye.

“Sure I can kill him,” Billy said. “They say he sits around praying every morning when the sun comes up. If I’d known about that I could have killed him long ago. The thing to do is wait until the sun’s right in his eyes and then shoot him while he’s praying.”

“Brilliant!” Cecily said. “It’s the perfect plan. Shoot him tomorrow—oh, do!”

“Tomorrow—I sure will,” Billy said, though I believe he was a little surprised by her eagerness.

“Do you have a good rifle?” Cecily asked.

“Uh, no,” Billy said. He looked embarrassed at having overlooked such an elementary thing.

“I guess I’ll just have to get close enough to shoot him with my shotgun,” he said.

“I don’t think much of that plan,” Cecily said bluntly. “The nigger has an extraordinary nose. He might sniff you out. Mr. Isinglass claims he can tell just by smelling whether a gun is loaded or unloaded.”

“But Isinglass says the man’s finished,” I said. “He says the chase wore him out. Why not just let him die? It’d be much safer.”

“Nonsense, the nigger might recover,” Cecily said emphatically. “We mustn’t underestimate the nigger. It would be hard to get close enough to finish him with a shotgun—my greyhounds might raise a howl.”

“I guess I can ride back to San Jon and buy a Winchester,” Billy said. “If I leave now I might get back by morning, if Sippy’s dern mule don’t balk.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t hear of you going to that kind of trouble just to indulge me,” Cecily said, knowing full well he would have walked to China to indulge her.

“I have an excellent rifle,” Cecily said. “I often used it in Africa on some rather large antelope and found it quite reliable. I’m sure it would riddle that nigger.”

“How’d I get it?” Billy asked.

“I’ll bring it to you tonight—to this very spot,” Cecily said. “That is, if you’d care to wait.”

“I’ll wait, you bet,” Billy said.