The boy was silent but his lips were tightly compressed and his blue eyes shone with wrath.
“I came,” said Minnie frankly, “to you, because you are the only man at Sky Line. The rest are skunks. Josefa says you have the heart of a Pomo chief.”
Stone stood for a long time considering.
Then he drew a deep breath and flung up his head.
The motion was full of portent, as if something in him which had long bowed down sprang aloft with vigor, like a young tree, bent to earth, released.
“You’re right,” he said, “it’s devil’s work and something must be done. I am the one to do it, too.”
He was silent for another space. Then he turned to the girl.
“Kid,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about you lately—about making a get-a-way down the Pipe some night and striking across the desert for Marston—we could find a parson there and drop over the Line into Mexico. Arnold hasn’t much on me—perhaps less than on anyone at Sky Line—and we could make a new start——”
There was the soft sound of an indrawn breath and Minnie Pine’s hand went to her shapely throat.
Stone went on.