"I'm not going to shoot you now," said Lee, smiling, "so you will have a
chance to die with your boots on,* if you are superstitious. I only want
you to exchange them for that pair of Hale's in the corner. The fact
is I have taken a fancy to yours. That fashion of wearing the stockings
outside strikes me as one of the neatest things out."

* "To die with one's boots on." A synonym for death by
violence, popular among Southwestern desperadoes, and the
subject of superstitious dread.

Manuel suddenly drew off his boots with their muffled covering, and put
on the ones designated.

"Now open the door."

He did so. Falkner was already waiting at the threshold, "Turn Manuel
loose with the other, Ned, but disarm him first. They might quarrel. The
habit of carrying arms, Manuel," added Lee, as Falkner took a pistol and
bowie-knife from the half-breed, "is of itself provocative of violence,
and inconsistent with a bucolic and pastoral life."

When Falkner returned he said hurriedly to his companion, "Do you think
it wise, George, to let those hell-hounds loose? Good God! I could
scarcely let my grip of his throat go, when I thought of what they were
hunting."

"My dear Ned," said Lee, luxuriously ensconcing himself under the
bedclothes again with a slight shiver of delicious warmth, "I must warn
you against allowing the natural pride of a higher walk to prejudice you