"Oh!" Carolyn June gasped, as the horses met and she saw the Ramblin'
Kid, his gun still in his hand, standing beside Captain Jack.
There was a brief, questioning silence.
"What th' hell!" he breathed.
"What the—'hell—yourself!" she laughed nervously. "Is—this—is this a hold-up?"
"What are you doin' here—this time of night—an' on that filly?" he asked without heeding her question.
"I'm riding that—this—filly!" Carolyn June shot back independently. "And what are you doing here—at this time of—Oh," she added, before he could answer, "I—I—believe my saddle's slipping!" and she swung lightly from the back of the outlaw mare.
"That filly'll kill you," he began.
"She will not!" Carolyn June interrupted with a pout. "I—I—guess you're not the only one, Mister 'Nighthawk,' that knows the way to the heart of a horse! If you were just as wise about—" but she stopped, her blush hidden as she turned her back to the rising moon.
"They was made for each other!" the Ramblin' Kid muttered to himself. Then he spoke aloud: "I reckon you know," he said slowly, "why I'm ridin' at night—about me killin' Sabota—I'm leavin'—"
"But Sabota isn't dead," she interrupted again. "You don't need to go away!"