She did not look at him. Her eyes were on the horizon line, where sky and pine tops met. He knew that she was fighting it out to a decision, and he did not speak again. 299
After all, she was only a girl. Right and wrong were inextricably mixed in her mind. It was not right to marry this man. It was not right to let the sheriff die while she could save him. She was generous to the core. But there was something deeper than generosity. Her banked love for Flatray flooded her in a great cry of protest against his death. She loved him. She loved him. Much as she detested this man, revolting as she found the thought of being linked to him, the impulse to sacrifice herself was the stronger feeling of the two. Deep in her heart she knew that she could not let Jack go to his death so long as it was possible to prevent it.
Her grave eyes came back to MacQueen. “I’ll have to tell you one thing—I’ll hate you worse than ever after this. Don’t think I’ll ever change my mind about that. I won’t.”
He twirled his little mustache complacently.
“I’ll have to risk that, as I said.”
“You’ll take me to Mesa to-day. As soon as we get there a justice of the peace will marry us. From his house we’ll go directly to father’s. You won’t lie to me.”
“No. I’ll play out the game square, if you do.”
“And after we’re married, what then?”
“You may stay at home until I get this ransom business settled. Then we’ll go to Sonora.”
“How do you know I’ll go?”