or t'other, and you're white."

"She can stay with the Mormons, if she wants to."

"Oh, yes; if she wants to. But do you reckon she does? Not much! She's
lookin' to you--she's lookin' to you. She's a smart leetle piece--knows
how to play her cards, and she's got you and Dan'l goin'."

"But she's married. You can't expect----"

"Oh, yes," he wagged again, interrupting. "Shore. There's Montoyo. I don't
envy you your job, but damn' if you mightn't work harder and do wuss.
She's a clipper, and I never did hear anything 'specially bad of her,
beyond cappin'. Whoa, Jinny!"

I wrathfully cogitated. Now I began to hate her. I was a tool to her hand,
once more, was I? And how had it come about? She had not directly besought
me to it--not by word. Daniel had decreed, and already our antagonism had
been on. And I had defied him--naturally. He should not bilk me of free
movement. But the issue might, on the face of it, appear to be she. As I
tugged at the harness, under breath I cursed the scurvy turn of events;
and in seeking to place the blame found amazing cleverness in her. Just
the same, I was not going to kill him for her account; never, never! And I
wished to the deuce that she'd kept clear of me.

Jenks was speaking.

"So the fust chance you get you might as well walk straight into him, call
him all the names you can lay tongue to, and when he makes a move for his
gun beat him to the draw and come up shootin'. Then it'll be over with.
The longer it hangs, the less peace you'll have; for you've got to do it
sooner or later. It's you or him."

"Not necessarily," I faltered. "There may be another way."

"There ain't, if you're a he critter on two legs," snapped Jenks. "Not in
this country or any other white man's country; no, nor in red man's
country neither. What you do back in the States, can't say. Trust in
pray'r, mebbe."

Nevertheless I determined to make a last effort even at the risk of losing
caste. In the reaction from the pressure of that recent encounter when I
might have killed, but didn't, I again had a spell of fierce, sick protest
against the role being foisted upon me--foisted, I could see, by her
machinations as well as by his animosity. The position was too false to be
borne. There was no joy in it, no zest, no adequate reward. Why, in God's
name, should I be sentenced to have blood upon my hands and soul? Surely I
might be permitted to stay clean.

Therefore this evening immediately after corral