"I'm not afraid," she answered as her eyes sought the Texan's. "I've learned a lot in the past few hours."
"I guess you ain't learnt enough to hurt you none," retorted Jennie, with a trace of acid in her tone. "An' you'll learn a lot more 'fore you hit the N. P., or my name ain't Jennie Dodds. If you're bound to go you can take my outfit. I guess Tex'll see that my horse comes back, anyhow."
The cowpuncher grinned: "Thanks, Jennie, I'm right proud to know you think I wouldn't steal your horse." Once more he turned to the girl. "When the half-breed comes for you, you go with him. I've got to go on with the boys, now." Abruptly he left the room, and once more paused in the hall before passing through the office. "She's game, all right. An' the way she can look at a fellow out of those eyes of hers—— By God! Purdy ought to be'n killed!"
CHAPTER IX
THE PILGRIM
A group of saddle-horses stood before the Headquarters saloon, and as the Texan entered he was vociferously greeted by the twenty cowboys who crowded the bar.
"Come on, Tex, drink up!"
"Hell'll be a-poppin' down to the wool-warehouse."
"An', time we get there we won't be able to see Sam Moore fer dust."
Curly raised his glass and the cowpunchers joined in uproarious song:
"We'll string him up to a cottonwood limb
An' dig his grave in under him,
We'll tromp down the clods, an' we won't give a damn
'Cause he'll never kill another cow-man,
Ah wi yi yippie i oo-o-!"