“No, you wouldn’t. It isn’t in you to give up. Perhaps reinforcements do have their effect—but you’d never leave the line, Nance.”
The girl smiled.
It was the first time he had used her given name and her heart missed a beat, while the warm surge went through her again.
“No—I know it—but sometimes I do feel—well, tired.”
“You’ve had enough to make you so,” he said and laid his hand on hers. At his infrequent touches Nance always felt a glow of returning strength, as if once more she could work and fight for her own. She counted it one of her secant blessings that Brand Fair had come into her life at its darkest hour.
Sheriff Selwood had a visitor.
The prospector, John Smith, rode into his ranch yard and sat judging him with shrewd eyes.
“Sheriff,” he said, “I’ve a notion you and I could have a pleasant and perhaps a profitable talk. Will you saddle a horse and ride out with me a way?”
“Sure,” said Price Selwood readily, and asked no questions.
He went into his stable and soon came out leading the lean bay, mounted and followed as the other turned away.