It was as if, in the midst of an exciting hand, with the
wagers running high, he had seen her cards and knew that his own hand
was higher. The pleasant sense of mastery made a warmth through him.
"Meaning that they'd talk about me? Bard, they've already said enough
things about me to fill a book--notes and all, with a bunch of pictures
thrown in. What I can't live down I fight down, and no man never says
the same thing twice about me. It ain't healthy. If that's all that
bothers you, close your eyes and let me lead you out of this mess."
He hunted about for some other way to draw her out. After all, it was an
old, old game. He had played it before many a time; though the setting
and the lights had been different the play was always the same--a man,
and a woman.
She was explaining: "And it is a mess. Maybe you could get out after
droppin' Calamity, because it was partly self-defence, but there ain't
nothin' between here and God that can get you off from liftin' a hoss.
No, sir, not even returning the hoss won't do no good. I know! The only
thing is speed--and a thousand miles east of here you can stop ridin'.
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