And he's gentle
and considerate, too." She remembered the look in his eyes when he
said: "You are cold," and blushed furiously.
It seemed hours she sat there staring into the little fire and
listening for sounds from the dark. But the only sounds that came to
her were the sounds of the feeding horses, and in utter weariness she
lay back with her head upon a folded blanket, and slept.
When the Texan swung onto his horse after having made the girl
comfortable for her long vigil, a scant half-hour of moonlight was left
to him. He gave the horse his head and the animal picked his way among
the loose rocks and scrub timber that capped the ridge. When darkness
overtook him he dismounted, unsaddled, and groped about for firewood.
Despite its recent soaking the resinous bull pine flared up at the
touch of a match, and with his back to a rock-wall, the cowboy sat and
watched the little flames shoot upward. Once more he felt for his
"makings" and with infinite pains dried out his papers and tobacco.
"It's the chance I be'n aimin' to make for myself," he mused, as he
drew the grey smoke of a cigarette deep into his lungs, "to get Bat an'
the pilgrim away--an' I ride off and leave it." The cigarette was
consumed and he rolled another. "Takin' a slant at himself from the
inside, a man kind of gets a line on how damned ornery folks can get.
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