“And we’d have ’em afore mornin’,” said Rathburn grimly. “Eagen will see to it that Bob Long knows I was out here, right pronto. But I aim to stop any posses from botherin’ around your place. If there’s one thing I don’t want to do, Mallory, it’s make any trouble for you.”
The girl came walking toward him and touched his arm.
“What are you going to do, Roger?” she asked in an anxious voice.
“I’m goin’ straight into Hope,” Rathburn replied.
“But, Roger,” the girl faltered, “won’t that mean––mean–––”
“A show-down? Maybe so. I ain’t side-steppin’ it.”
A world of worry showed in the girl’s eyes. “Roger, why don’t you go away?” she asked hesitatingly. “Things could be worse, and maybe in time they would become better. Folks forget, Roger.”
For a moment Rathburn’s hand rested on hers, as he looked down at her.
“There’s two ways of forgettin’, girlie,” he said soberly. “An’ I don’t want ’em to forget me the wrong way.”