“It’s real enough,” said Jack bitterly. “And if any one saw you come here, it would be ten times worse, King. They’d hang me for havin’ you in my house.”
“They didn’t see me, Hartwell. It’s too dark for that. I’ve come down here to ask yuh both to go back with me. I can send you over into Sunland until this trouble is over.”
“Well, that’s fine.” Jack’s lips twisted sarcastically. “You’d like to make me out a traitor, wouldn’t yuh? I suppose that would fit in with yore idea of gettin’ even with Marsh Hartwell, eh?”
“It’s better to be a live coward than a dead hero.”
“Is it? You ought to know, King.”
The big man’s eyes hardened and he started toward Jack, but the big revolver in Jack’s hand did not waver, so he stopped.
“Jack, don’t do that,” begged Molly. “Dad means it all for the best.”
“For the best—yeah, that’s true,” nodded Jack, but added, “for himself.”
“All right,” King turned and looked at Molly. “You go with me, Molly. You can’t stay here any longer. They’ve given you a hard deal, girl. Oh, I know all about it. They treated you like dirt because you happened to be my daughter, but I’ll even things with ’em for that. By ——, I’ll sheep out Lo Lo Valley, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“That’s fine,” laughed Jack. “Ever since I was a kid I’ve heard that you were goin’ to do that, King. Women used to scare their kids by tellin’ ’em that Eph King would get them if they wasn’t good. That’s what folks over here think of you.”