ade over? I'm under their
teachings; I am Edna, already; it's time Daniel had a wife--or two, for
replenishing Utah. Rachael calls me 'sister,' and I can't resent it. Good
at heart as she is, even she is convinced. Why," and she laughed
mirthlessly, "I may be sealed to Hyrum himself, if nothing worse is in
store. Then I'll be assured of a seat with the saints."

"You can depend upon me, then. I'll protect you, I'll fight for you, and
I'll kill for you," I was on the point of roundly declaring; but didn't.
Her kind, I remembered, had spelled ruin upon the pages of men more
experienced than I. Therefore out of that super-caution born of Benton, I
stupidly said nothing.

She had paused, expectant. She resumed.

"But no matter. Here I am, and here you are. We were speaking of shooting.
This is a lesson in shooting, not in marrying, isn't it? As to the
pressing need, you must decide. You've seen and heard enough for that. I
like you, sir; I respect your spirit and I'm sorry I led you into
misadventure. Now if I may lend you a little something to keep you from
being shot like a dog, I'll feel as though I had wiped out your score
against me. Take your gun." I took it, the butt warm from her clasp.
"There he is. Cover him!"

"Where?" I asked. "Who?"

"There, before you. Oh, anybody! Think of his heart and cover him. I want
to see you hold."

I aimed, squinting.

"No, no! You'll not have time to close an eye; both eyes are none too
many. And you are awkward; you are stiff." She readjusted my arm and
fingers. "That's better. You see that little rock? Hit it. Cock your
weapon, first. Hold firmly, not too long. There; I think you're going to
hit it, but hold low, low, with the wrist. Now!"

I fired. The sand obscured the rock. She clapped her hands, delighted.

"You would have killed him. No--he would have killed you. Quick! Give it
to me!"

And snatching the revolver she cocked, leveled and fired instantly. The
rock split into fragments.

"I would have killed him," she murmured, gazing tense, seeing I knew not
what. Wrenching from the vision she handed back the revolver to me. "I
think you're going to do, sir. Only, you must learn to draw. I can tell
you but I can't show you. The men will. You must draw swiftly, decisively,
without a halt, and finger on trigger and thumb on hammer and be ready to
shoot when the muzzle clears the scabbard. It's a trick."

"Like this?" I queried, trying.

"Partly. But it's not a swo