“Sho! You’re not so goshalmighty. You’re jes’ June Tolliver. I’m the same Jake Houck you once promised to marry. Don’t forget that, girl. I took you from that white-livered fellow you married—”
“Who saved you from the Utes when nobody else would lift a finger for you. That comes well from you of all men,” she flung out.
“That ain’t the point. What I’m sayin’ is that I’ll not stand for you throwin’ me down.”
“What can you do?” She stood before him in her stockings, the heavy black hair waving down to her hips, a slim girl whose wiry strength he could crush with one hand.
Her question stopped him. What could he do if she wanted to give him up? If he made a move toward her she would scream, and that would bring his enemies upon him. He could shoot her afterward, but that would do no good. His account was heavy enough as it stood without piling up surplusage.
“You aimin’ for to sell me out?” he asked hoarsely.
“No. I won’t be responsible for your death.” June might have added another reason, a more potent one. She knew Jake Houck, what a game and desperate villain he was. They could not capture him alive. It was not likely he could be killed without one or two men at least being shot by him. Driven into a corner, he would fight like a wild wolf.
“Tha’s the way to talk, June. Help me outa this hole. You can if you’re a mind to. Have they got patrols out everywhere?”
“Only on the river side of the town. They think you escaped that way.”
“Well, if you’ll get me a horse—”