Rhoda smiled but said nothing. These departed peoples had become very real and very pitiable to her.
As soon as he could drag Rhoda from the ancient pots, John led the way to the top of the ruin. He was anxious to find if there were more than the one trail leading from the desert. To his great satisfaction he found that the mesa was unscalable except at the point that Rhoda had found as she staggered up from the desert.
"I'm going to guard that trail tonight," he said. "It's just possible, you know, that Kut-le escaped from Porter, though I think if he had he would have been upon us long before this. I've been mighty careless. But my brain is so tired it seems to have been off duty. I could hold that trail single-handed from the upper terrace for a week."
"Just remember," said Rhoda quickly, "that I've asked you not to shoot to kill!"
Again the hard light gleamed in DeWitt's eyes.
"I shall have a few words with him first, then I shall shoot to kill. There is that between that Indian and me which a woman evidently can't understand. I just can't see why you take the stand you do!"
"John dear," cried Rhoda, "put yourself in his place. With all the race prejudice against you that he had, wouldn't you have done as he has?"
"Probably," answered Dewitt calmly. "I also would have expected what he is going to get."
A sudden sense of the bizarre nature of their conversation caused Rhoda to say comically:
"I never knew that you could have such bloody ideas, John!"