“How did—she look?”
“Cool and quiet as the Indian there.... Game as hell! She always had stuff in her.”
“Oh, Joe!... It's unbelievable!” cried Shefford. “That lovely, innocent girl! She couldn't—she couldn't.”
“She's fixed him. Don't think of that. It's too late. We ought to have saved her.”
“God!... She begged me to hurry—to take her away.”
“Think what we can do NOW to save her,” cut in the Mormon.
Shefford sustained a vivifying shock. “To save her?” he echoed.
“Think, man!”
“Joe, I can hit the trail and let you tell them I killed him,” burst out Shefford in panting excitement.
“Reckon I can.”