him, but walked beside him, leading him by touch of hand and
together they passed slowly into the shade of the cottonwoods.

"Jane, I must be off soon," said Venters. "Give me my guns. If
I'd had my guns--"

"Either my friend or the Elder of my church would be lying dead,"
she interposed

"Tull would be--surely."

"Oh, you fierce-blooded, savage youth! Can't I teach you
forebearance, mercy? Bern, it's divine to forgive your enemies.
'Let not the sun go down upon thy wrath.'"

"Hush! Talk to me no more of mercy or religion--after to-day.
To-day this strange coming of Lassiter left me still a man, and
now I'll die a man!...Give me my guns."

Silently she went into the house, to return with a heavy
cartridge-belt and gun-filled sheath and a long rifle; these she
handed to him, and as he buckled on the belt she stood before him
in silent eloquence.

"Jane," he said, in gentler voice, "don't look so. I'm not going
out to murder your churchman. I'll try to avoid him and all his
men. But can't you see I've reached the end of my rope? Jane,
you're a wonderful woman. Never was there a woman so unselfish
and good. Only you're blind in one way....Listen!"