“And did you?”
The girl’s demand was almost a shriek. The boy nodded his bent head wisely, and his eyes lit with malice.
“And you didn’t give him away? You wouldn’t––you wouldn’t? He’s my husband.”
The pleading in his sister’s voice was pitiful to hear.
“That’s sure what Peter made me promise––or I wouldn’t get his gold.”
Eve breathed more freely. But her relief was short-lived.
The boy began to laugh. It was a soft chuckle that found no expression in his face. The sound of it sent a shudder through the harassed woman.
“No. I didn’t give him away,” he said suddenly. “Sis, I trailed an’ trailed, an’ I found him. Gee, I found him. He was diggin’ his gold, but it was in the hides of cattle, an’ with a red-hot brandin’ iron. Gee! I watched him, but he didn’t see me. Oh, no, I took care of that. If he’d seen me he’d sure have killed me. Say, sis, your Will’s a cattle-thief. You’ve heerd tell of ’em, ain’t you? Do you know what they do to cattle-thieves? I’ll tell you. They hang ’em. They hang ’em slow. They haul ’em up, an’ their necks stretch, an’––an’ then they die. Then the coyotes come round an’ jump up an’ try to eat ’em. An’ they hang there till they stink. That’s how they treat cattle-rustlers. An’ Will’s a cattle-rustler.”
“For God’s sake, be quiet!”