I'll wait
here for Bat. He's probably found the spring by this time, an' he'll be
moseyin' along directly with water an' the pack-horse."
Endicott took a step toward him: "It won't work, Tex," he said, with a
smile. "You don't expect me to believe that if you really thought Bat
would return with water, you would be sending us away from here into this
dust-storm. No. I'm the one that waits for Bat. You go ahead and take
her through, and then you can come back for me."
The Texan shook his head: "I got you into this deal, an'----"
"You did it to protect me!" flared Endicott. "I'm the cause for all
this, and I'll stand the gaff!"
The Texan smiled, and Endicott noticed that it was the same cynical smile
with which the man had regarded him in the dance hall, and again as they
had faced each other under the cottonwoods of Buffalo Coulee. "Since
when you be'n runnin' this outfit?"
"It don't make any difference since when! The fact is, I'm running it,
now--that is, to the extent that I'll be damned if you're going to stay
behind and rot in this God-forsaken inferno, while I ride to safety on
your horse."
The smile died from the cowboy's face: "It ain't that, Win. I guess you
don't savvy, but I do. She's yours, man. Take her an' go! There was a
while that I thought--but, hell!"
"I'm not so sure of that," Endicott replied.
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