"I wish the Newman ranch was just over beyond," she said. "John, what will you do if Kut-le comes on us here?"
DeWitt's forehead burned a painful red.
"I have a shot left in my revolver," he said.
Rhoda walked ever to John and put one hand on his shoulder as he sat looking up at her with somber blue eyes.
"John," she said, "I want you to promise me that you will fire at Kut-le only in the last extremity to keep him from carrying me off, and that you will shoot only as Porter did, to lame and not to kill."
John's jaws came together and he returned the girl's scrutiny with a steel-like glance.
"Why do you plead for him?" he asked finally.
"He saved my life," she answered simply.
John rose and walked up and down restlessly.
"Rhoda, if a white man had done this thing I would shoot him as I would a dog. What do I care for a law in a case like this! We were men long before we had laws. Why should this Indian be let go when he has done what a white would be shot for?"