Pete stood in the doorway very nervous about his hat, as though he tried to hide it away. I remember telling him quite gravely that I like to see a hat.
"Cap Taylor, ma'am," he was saying, "told me to get here first by the horse trail, so I rode hell-for-leather. They'll be another hour comin' by road."
"Another hour?"
"A stranger's driving. Mebbe more'n an hour."
Then Jesse came back.
* * * * * *
Jesse's Narrative
I found my lady seated on her stool, that letter in her hands, while Pete, uneasy, clicked his spurs in the doorway. I asked if he'd take a message.
"Burning the trail," he said.
"Say, if she comes, I'll kill her."