"Plimsoll's makin' fo' Nipple Peaks an' he's likely to git clear. Me, I aim to head him off an' settle the account."
"Sandy." There was a plea in her voice that plucked at his heart strings. "Don't spoil to-night. Please!"
"That ain't Molly Casey talkin'," said Sandy. "That's somethin' you must have picked up back to Keith's."
"He didn't harm me, Sandy."
"He tried to."
Her hand slipped to his shoulder, touched his cheek. She reined in Blaze. Sandy stood beside her, straight and stern, his eyes implacable.
"He ain't fit to live," he went on. "I w'udn't be fit to go back to Three Star where yore daddy lies an' know he was there in his grave while I let that coyote go loose. I found the luck-piece on the floor of the cabin, Molly, with a lock of yore hair he must have tore out, a button an' a bit of yore dress he nigh tore off you. I was in hell when I thought of you fightin' him off an' if I have to wade through it knee-deep in flamin' sulphur I'm goin' to find that snake an' make sure he quits trailin'. Why, it's my job, Molly. What w'ud you think of me if I let him slide?"
"I know," she answered.
A horse whinnied from down the ravine. Blaze answered.
"That'll be Sam an' the boys, Molly." He cupped hands and sounded a "Yahoo!"