Neither yielded the beat
of an eyelid, but it was the outlaw that spoke.
"I had forgotten y'u. That's strange, too because it was for y'u
I came. I'm going to take y'u home with me.
"Alive or dead?" asked the other serenely.
"Alive, dear Ned."
"Same old traits cropping out again. There was always something
feline about y'u. I remember when y'u were a boy y'u liked to
torment wild animals y'u had trapped."
"I play with larger game now--and find it more interesting."
"Just so. Miss Messiter, I shall have to borrow a pony from y'u,
unless--" He broke off and turned indifferently to the bandit.
"Yes, I brought a hawss along with me for y'u," replied the other
to the unvoiced question. "I thought maybe y'u might want to ride
with us."
"But he can't ride. He couldn't possibly. It would kill him," the
girl broke out.
"I reckon not." The man from the Shoshones glanced at his victim
as he drew on his gauntlets. "He's a heap tougher than y'u
think."
"But it will. If he should ride now, why--It would be the same as
murder," she gasped. "You wouldn't make him ride now?"
"Didn't y'u hear him order his hawss, ma'am? He's keen on this
ride. Of course he don't have to go unless he wants to.
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