As for Arizona, the newborn hope died in him, and then flickered back to an evil life. If Sinclair was in his way, why give up? Why not remove this obstacle as he had removed others in his time. The hurrying voice of the girl broke in on his somber thoughts.
"He went to Sour Creek to help me as soon as he found out that I was not a man. He put himself in terrible danger there on my account."
"Did Cartwright have something to do with you and him?"
"Yes."
But Arizona made no effort to read her riddle.
She went on: "Now that he has been taken, I know what has happened. To keep me out of danger he told—"
"That you're a woman?"
"No, he wouldn't do that, because he knows that is the last thing in the world that I want revealed. But he's told them that he killed Quade, and now he's in danger of his life."
"Let's ride on," said Arizona. "I got to think a pile."
She did not speak, while the horses wound down the steep side of the mountain. Mile after mile rose behind them. The sun increased in power, flashing on the leaves of the trees and beginning to burn the face with its slanting heat. Now and then she ventured a side-glance at Arizona, and always she found him in a brown study. Vaguely she knew that he was fighting the old battle of good and evil in the silence of the morning. Finally he stopped his horse and turned to her again.