“If we had known each other better from the first I reckon you would have kept me out of these fool mistakes I’ve made,” the young fellow said humbly.
“You ain’t made no mistakes,” Judith declared with reckless loyalty, “Hit’s the other folks—Blatch Turrentine and them that follers him—no good person could git along with them. Are you much tired Creed? Does yo’ shoulder pain you?”
“No, dear,” he said softly, laying his cheek against the hand which he had drawn around his neck. “Nothing pains me any more. I’m mighty happy.”
And together thus they rode forward in darkness, toward Garyville and safety.
Chapter XVIII
Bitter Parting
In the sickly yellow flare of the kerosene lamps around the Garyville station Judith got her first sight of Creed’s face: sunken, the blood drained from it till it was colourless as paper, the eyes wild, purple rimmed, haggard—it frightened her. She was off of Selim in a moment, begging him to get down and sit on the edge of the platform with her, here on the dark side where nobody would notice them, and they could decide what was to be done next.
He dismounted slowly, stumblingly, gained the edge of the platform, and there sat with drooping head. Judith tied the two animals and ran to sit beside him.