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pulled the trigger. As I dodged down I saw him run through the trees. He had a
rifle. I ve been expectin that kind of gun play. I reckon now I ll have to
keep a little closer hid myself. These fellers all seem to get chilly or shaky
when they draw a bead on me, but one of them might jest happen to hit me.
Won t you go away leave Cottonwoods as I ve begged you to before some
one does happen to hit you? she appealed to him.
I reckon I ll stay.
But, oh, Lassiter your blood will be on my hands!
See here, lady, look at your hands now, right now. Aren t they fine, firm,
white hands? Aren t they bloody now? Lassiter s blood! That s a queer thing to
stain your beautiful hands. But if you could only see deeper you d find a
redder color of blood. Heart color, Jane!
Oh! & My friend!
No, Jane, I m not one to quit when the game grows hot, no more than you.
This game, though, is new to me, an I don t know the moves yet, else I
wouldn t have stepped in front of that bullet.
Have you no desire to hunt the man who fired at you to find him and
and kill him?
Well, I reckon I haven t any great hankerin for that.
Oh, the wonder of it! & I knew I prayed I trusted. Lassiter, I almost
gave all myself to soften you to Mormons. Thank God, and thank you, my
friend& But, selfish woman that I am, this is no great test. What s the life of
one of those sneaking cowards to such a man as you? I think of your great hate
toward him who I think of your life s implacable purpose. Can it be
Wait! & Listen! he whispered. I hear a hoss.
He rose noiselessly, with his ear to the breeze. Suddenly he pulled his
sombrero down over his bandaged head and, swinging his gun-sheaths round in
front, he stepped into the alcove.
It s a hoss comin fast, he added.
Jane s listening ear soon caught a faint, rapid, rhythmic beat of hoofs. It
came from the sage. It gave her a thrill that she was at a loss to understand.
The sound rose stronger, louder. Then came a clear, sharp difference when the
horse passed from the sage trail to the hard-packed ground of the grove. It
became a ringing run swift in its bell-like clatterings, yet singular in
longer pause than usual between the hoofbeats of a horse.
It s Wrangle! & It s Wrangle! cried Jane Withersteen. I d know him from a
million horses!
Excitement and thrilling expectancy flooded out all Jane Withersteen s calm.
A tight band closed round her breast as she saw the giant sorrel flit in
reddish-brown flashes across the openings in the green. Then he was pounding
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down the lane thundering into the court crashing his great iron-shod hoofs
on the stone flags. Wrangle it was surely, but shaggy and wild-eyed, and
sage-streaked, with dust-caked lather staining his flanks. He reared and
crashed down and plunged. The rider leaped off, threw the bridle, and held
hard on a lasso looped round Wrangle s head and neck. Janet s heart sank as
she tried to recognize Venters in the rider. Something familiar struck her in
the lofty stature in the sweep of powerful shoulders. But this bearded,
longhaired, unkempt man, who wore ragged clothes patched with pieces of skin,
and boots that showed bare legs and feet this dusty, dark, and wild rider
could not possibly be Venters.
Whoa, Wrangle, old boy! Come down. Easy now. So so so. You re home, old
boy, and presently you can have a drink of water you ll remember.
In the voice Jane knew the rider to be Venters. He tied Wrangle to the
hitching-rack and turned to the court.
Oh, Bern! & You wild man! she exclaimed.
Jane Jane, it s good to see you! Hello, Lassiter! Yes, it s Venters.
Like rough iron his hard hand crushed Jane s. In it she felt the difference
she saw in him. Wild, rugged, unshorn yet how splendid! He had gone away a
boy he had returned a man. He appeared taller, wider of shoulder,
deeper-chested, more powerfully built. But was that only her fancy he had
always been a young giant was the change one of spirit? He might have been
absent for years, proven by fire and steel, grown like Lassiter, strong and
cool and sure. His eyes were they keener, more flashing than before? met
hers with clear, frank, warm regard, in which perplexity was not, nor
discontent, nor pain.
Look at me long as you like, he said, with a laugh. I m not much to look
at. And, Jane, neither you nor Lassiter, can brag. You re paler than I ever
saw you. Lassiter, here, he wears a bloody bandage under his hat. That reminds
me. Some one took a flying shot at me down in the sage. It made Wrangle run
some& Well, perhaps you ve more to tell me than I ve got to tell you.
Briefly, in few words, Jane outlined the circumstances of her undoing in the
weeks of his absence.
Under his beard and bronze she saw his face whiten in terrible wrath.
Lassiter what held you back?
No time in the long period of fiery moments and sudden shocks had Jane
Withersteen ever beheld Lassiter as calm and serene and cool as then.
Jane had gloom enough without my addin to it by shootin up the village,
he said.
As strange as Lassiter s coolness was Venters s curious, intent scrutiny of
them both, and under it Jane felt a flaming tide wave from bosom to temples.
Well you re right, he said, with slow pause. It surprises me a little,
that s all.
Jane sensed then a slight alteration in Venters, and what it was, in her own
confusion, she could not tell. It had always been her intention to acquaint
him with the deceit she had fallen to in her zeal to move Lassiter. She did
not mean to spare herself. Yet now, at the moment, before these riders, it was
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an impossibility to explain.
Venters was speaking somewhat haltingly, without his former frankness. I
found Oldring s hiding-place and your red herd. I learned I know I m sure
there was a deal between Tull and Oldring. He paused and shifted his position
and his gaze. He looked as if he wanted to say something that he found beyond
him. Sorrow and pity and shame seemed to contend for mastery over him. Then he
raised himself and spoke with effort. Jane, I ve cost you too much. You ve
almost ruined yourself for me. It was wrong, for I m not worth it. I never
deserved such friendship. Well, maybe it s not too late. You must give me up.
Mind, I haven t changed. I am just the same as ever. I ll see Tull while I m
here, and tell him to his face.
Bern, it s too late, said Jane.
I ll make him believe! cried Venters, violently.
You ask me to break our friendship?
Yes. If you don t, I shall.
Forever?
Forever!
Jane sighed. Another shadow had lengthened down the sage slope to cast
further darkness upon her. A melancholy sweetness pervaded her resignation.
The boy who had left her had returned a man, nobler, stronger, one in whom she
divined something unbending as steel. There might come a moment later when she
would wonder why she had not fought against his will, but just now she yielded
to it. She liked him as well nay, more, she thought, only her emotions were
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