arm, but which brought her nearer to him, leaned close and laying
her hand on his shoulder, whispered,

"I reckon I know. I reckon you'll have to blame me with Blatch's
meanness."

"Why, of course that was it!" exclaimed Creed. He looped the bridle on
his saddle horn, reached up and drew her hand across his shoulders and
around his neck. "That's what comes of getting the girl that everybody
else wants," he said with fond pride. "But nobody else can have her now,
can they? Say it Judith--say it to me, dear."

Judith made sweet and satisfying response, and they rode in silence a
moment. Then she halted Selim thoughtfully.

"This path takes off to Double Springs, Creed," she said, mentioning the
name of a little watering place built up about some wells of chalybeate
and sulphur water. "We might--do ye think mebbe we'd better go there?"

Creed, who felt his strength ebbing, calculated the distance. They had
seen, as they made the last turn under the bluff, the lights flaring at
the Garyville station. Double Springs was more than a mile farther. "I
reckon Garyville will be the best, dear," he returned gently. Then, "I
wish I had cut a little better figure in this business--on account of
you," he added wistfully. "You're everything that a man could ask. I
don't want you to be ashamed of me."

"Ashamed of you!" Judith's deep tones carried such love, such scorn of
those who might not appreciate the man of her choice, that he was fain to
be comforted.

"If we had known each other better from the first I reckon you would have
kept me out of these fool mistakes I've made," the young fellow said
humbly.

"You ain't made no mistakes," Judith declared with reckless loyalty,
"Hit's the other folks--Blatch Turrentine and them that follers him--no
good person could git along with them. Are you much tired Creed? Does yo'
shoulder pain you?"

"No, dear," he said softly, laying his cheek against the hand which he
had drawn around his neck. "Nothing pains me any more. I'm mighty
happy."

And together thus they rode forward in darkness, toward Garyville and
safety.

Chapter XVIII

Bitter Parting

In the sickly yellow flare of the kerosene lamps around the Garyville
station Judith got her first sight of Creed's face: sunken, the blood
drained from it till it was colourless as paper, the eyes wild, purple
rimmed, haggard--it frightened her. She was off of Selim in a moment,
begging him to get down and sit on the edge