“What do you mean?”
“They paid for Grey Molly.”
“You shot one of their—horses?”
“A man.”
“God help us!” Then life came to her; she sprang up and ran between him and the door. “You shan't go. If you love me!” She was only inches from Black Bart, and the big animal showed his teeth in silent hate.
“Kate, I'm goin'. Don't stand in the door.”
Joan, slipping around Bart, stood clinging to the skirts of her mother and watched the face of Dan, fascinated, silent.
“Tell me where you're going. Tell me when you're coming back. Dan, for pity!”
Loud as a trumpet, a horse neighed from the corral. Dan had stood with an uncertain face, but now he smiled.
“D'you hear? I got to go!”
“I heard Satan whinney. But what does that mean? How does that make you go?”
“Somewhere,” he murmured, “something's happening. I felt it on the wind when I was comin' up the pass.”
“If you—oh, Dan, you're breaking my heart!”
“Stand out of the door.”
“Wait till the morning.”
“Don't you see I can't wait?”
“One hour, ten minutes. Buck—Lee Haines”
