Even as she
talked, Jennie was busy at the stove, and without a word Cinnabar left
the room, crossed the creek, and walked rapidly toward the mouth of the
coulee.

"It ain't no use," he repeated bitterly, "but, I'll git Purdy first--or
he'll git me!"

Back in the cabin Jennie completed her arrangements, and stepping to the
door, stood with an arm against the jamb and allowed her eyes to travel
slowly over the new horse corral and the unfinished stable. Joe's tools
lay as he had left them when she had interrupted his work to give him
the sandwich. Her fists clenched and she bit her lip to keep back the
tears. The wind rustled the curtain in the window and she caught her
breath in a great dry sob. "It _is_ all a dream. It was too good to be
true--oh--well." A horse splashed through the creek and she saw Cinnabar
coming toward her leading a blaze-faced buckskin. A woman was lashed in
the saddle, her feet secured by means of a rope that passed beneath the
horse's belly, her hands lashed to the horn, and her body held in place
by means of other strands of rope that passed from horn to cantle. Her
hat was gone and she sagged limply forward, her disarranged hair falling
over her face to mingle with the mane of the horse. She looked like a
dead woman. Hastening to meet them, Jennie pushed aside the hair and
peered up into the white face: "My Lord!" she cried, "it's--it's her!"

Cinnabar stared: "Do you know her?" he asked in surprise.

"Know her! Of course I know her! It's the pilgrim's girl--that he shot
Purdy over. An' a pity he didn't kill him! That Tex Benton, he got 'em
acrost the bad lands--an' I heard they got married over in Timber City."

"Who Tex?"

"No, the pilgrim, of course! Get to work now an' cut them ropes an'
don't stand 'round askin' fool questions. Carry her in an' lay her on
the bed, an' get the whisky, an' see if that water's boilin' an' pull
off her boots, an' stick some more wood in the stove, an' then you clear
out till I get her ondressed an' in bed!" And be it to the everlasting
credit of Cinnabar Joe that he carried out these commands, each and
several, in the order of their naming, and then he walked slowly toward
the stable and sat down upon the newly hewn sill and rolled a cigarette.
His tools lay ready to his hand but he stared at them without
enthusiasm. When the cigarette was finished he rolled another.

In the cabin Alice Endicott slowly opened her eyes. They swept the room
wildly and f