“Is it a girl’s place to teach her father wisdom?” harshly rebuked Tonpit.
“You can’t ride south,” quietly informed Sevier. “Your cause is lost, and I’ll be shot if you lose your daughter into the bargain.”
“Release that bridle!” thundered Tonpit, now beside himself with rage.
And he raised the pistol. The girl threw herself forward to block the bullet, and cried:
“Shame, father! After what he has done for us! Better shoot me than him.”
Tonpit sagged back aghast. A second more and he had pulled the trigger, for his mind was curiously warped and his imprisonment had rendered him irresponsible. To relieve the scene of its tragic atmosphere, Sevier advised:
“You’d better load that pistol. We may need it soon. You’ve tried once to shoot me with it.”
Tonpit’s cold face flushed and he mumbled:
“I was hasty. I apologize; I will reload it. Then my daughter and I will ride south.”
“The trail south is open to you, but the girl rides north,” Sevier calmly informed.