She ran blindly toward the house where her room was. On the way she passed at a little distance Dunc Boone and did not see him. His hungry eyes followed her—a slender creature of white and russet and gold, vivid as a hillside poppy, compact of life and fire and grace. He, too, was a miscreant and a villain, lost to honor and truth, but just now she held his heart in the hollow of her tightly clenched little fist. Good men and bad, at bottom we are all made of the same stuff, once we are down to the primal emotions that go deeper than civilization’s veneer.
CHAPTER VII
“TRAPPED!”
Black MacQueen rolled a cigarette and sauntered toward the other outlaw.
“I reckon you better saddle up and take a look over the Flattops, Dunc. The way I figure it Lee’s posse must be somewhere over there. Swing around toward the Elkhorns and get back to report by to-morrow evening, say.”
Boone looked at him in an ugly manner. “Nothin’ doing, MacQueen.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m no greaser, my friend. Orders don’t go with me.”