A'm t'ink she lak' de pilgrim more'n
you. But mebbe-so you show heem up for w'at you call, de yellow, you
git her 'way, but--me, A'm no lak' I see her git harm." With which
declaration the half-breed rose abruptly and busied himself with the
horses, while the Texan, without bothering to spread his blankets,
pulled his hat over his face and stretched out beside the fire.
CHAPTER XI
A RESCUE
When Alice Marcum opened her eyes the timber was in darkness. The moon
had not yet topped the divide and through an opening in the trees the
girl could see the dim outlines of an endless sea of peaks and ridges
that stretched away to the eastward. The voice of the Texan sounded in
her ears: "Come alive, now! We got to eat an' pull out of here in an
hour's time if we're goin' to fetch the bad lands by daylight."
Peering around the edge of her shelter tent she could see him,
coffee-pot in hand, standing beside the tiny flame that licked at the
dry pine shavings of a newly kindled fire.
He turned and made his way to the creek that burbled over the rocks a
short way down the ravine and Alice drew on her riding-boots and joined
Endicott who had made his way painfully toward the fire where he stood
gazing ruefully at the begrimed wreck of a white collar which he held
in his hand.
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