ny more. I don't pray!... Think of that, my friend! But in spite of
my numb feeling I believe I'll rise out of all this dark agony a better
woman, with greater love of man and God. I'm on the rack now; I'm
senseless to all but pain, and growing dead to that. Sooner or later I
shall rise out of this stupor. I'm waiting the hour."

"It'll soon come, Jane," replied Lassiter, soberly. "Then I'm afraid for
you. Years are terrible things, an' for years you've been bound.
Habit of years is strong as life itself. Somehow, though, I believe as
you--that you'll come out of it all a finer woman. I'm waitin', too. An'
I'm wonderin'--I reckon, Jane, that marriage between us is out of all
human reason?"

"Lassiter!... My dear friend!... It's impossible for us to marry!"

"Why--as Fay says?" inquired Lassiter, with gentle persistence.

"Why! I never thought why. But it's not possible. I am Jane, daughter of
Withersteen. My father would rise out of his grave. I'm of Mormon
birth. I'm being broken. But I'm still a Mormon woman. And you--you are
Lassiter!"

"Mebbe I'm not so much Lassiter as I used to be."

"What was it you said? Habit of years is strong as life itself! You
can't change the one habit--the purpose of your life. For you still pack
those black guns! You still nurse your passion for blood."

A smile, like a shadow, flickered across his face.

"No."

"Lassiter, I lied to you. But I beg of you--don't you lie to me. I've
great respect for you. I believe you're softened toward most, perhaps
all, my people except--But when I speak of your purpose, your hate, your
guns, I have only him in mind. I don't believe you've changed."

For answer he unbuckled the heavy cartridge-belt, and laid it with the
heavy, swing gun-sheaths in her lap.

"Lassiter!" Jane whispered, as she gazed from him to the black, cold
guns. Without them he appeared shorn of strength, defenseless, a smaller
man. Was she Delilah? Swiftly, conscious of only one motive--refusal to
see this man called craven by his enemies--she rose, and with blundering
fingers buckled the belt round his waist where it belonged.

"Lassiter, I am a coward."

"Come with me out of Utah--where I can put away my guns an' be a man,"
he said. "I reckon I'll prove it to you then! Come! You've got Black
Star back, an' Night an' Bells. Let's take the racers an' little Fay,
en' race out of Utah. The hosses an' the child are all you have left.
Come!"

"No, no, Lassiter. I'll neve