“Then pay him!” said Esmeralda. “Get the horse!”
As the man left the hut, she went to the woman and held out her hand.
“Good-bye,” she whispered. “I know that you’re glad I am escaping; for you are a woman, as I am.”
The woman’s hand closed over hers and her lips moved.
“Yes, I am glad,” she said, casting a fearful glance toward the back of the man; “but you have not gone off yet.”
“I am not afraid,” said Esmeralda.
Her colloquy with the woman had taken but a second, and she followed close upon the man’s heels. The horse was tethered close beside the hut; the man put the saddle on without a word, and Esmeralda sprung into it, the revolver still in her hand. The horse was a young one, full of spirit and eager to be off, but she reined him in for a moment.
“You won’t tell me the way to Three Star, I suppose?” she said in her sweet voice.
The man looked up at her for a moment in silence.