“Can’t you guess?”
“Why, I’d rather—” The young man ground his teeth, but Cherry hastened.
“You needn’t worry; she won’t see him again. She loathes the ground he walks on.”
“And yet he’s no worse than that other scoundrel. Come, girl, we have work to do; we must act, and act quickly.” He gave her his message to Dextry, then she went to her room and slipped into a riding-habit. When she came out he asked: “Where is your rain-coat? You’ll be drenched in no time.”
“I can’t ride with it. I’ll be thrown, anyway, and I don’t want to be all bound up. Water won’t hurt me.”
She thrust her tiny revolver into her dress, but he took it and upon examination shook his head.
“If you need a gun you’ll need a good one.” He removed the belt from his own waist and buckled his Colt’s about her.
“But you!” she objected.
“I’ll get another in ten minutes.” Then, as they were leaving, he said: “One other request, Cherry. I’ll be in hiding for a time, and I must get word to Miss Chester to keep watch of her uncle, for the big fight is on at last and the boys will hang him sure if they catch him. I owe her this last warning. Will you send it to her?”
“I’ll do it for your sake, not for her—no, no; I don’t mean that. I’ll do the right thing all round. Leave it here and I’ll see that she gets it to-morrow. And—Roy—be careful of yourself.” Her eyes were starry and in their depths lurked neither selfishness nor jealousy now, only that mysterious glory of a woman who makes sacrifice.