loud and rather musical.
"Mr. Duane--Buck Duane, Euchre said, didn't he?" she asked.

"Buckley," corrected Duane. "The nickname's not of my
choosing."

"I'm certainly glad to meet you, Buckley Duane," she said, as
she took the seat Duane offered her. "Sorry to have been out.

Kid Fuller's lying over at Deger's. You know he was shot last
night. He's got fever to-day. When Bland's away I have to nurse

all these shot-up boys, and it sure takes my time. Have you
been waiting here alone? Didn't see that slattern girl of

mine?"
She gave him a sharp glance. The woman had an extraordinary

play of feature, Duane thought, and unless she was smiling was
not pretty at all.

"I've been alone," replied Duane. "Haven't seen anybody but a
sick-looking girl with a bucket. And she ran when she saw me."

"That was Jen," said Mrs. Bland. "She's the kid we keep here,
and she sure hardly pays her keep. Did Euchre tell you about

her?"
"Now that I think of it, he did say something or other."

"What did he tell you about me?" bluntly asked Mrs. Bland.
"Wal, Kate," replied Euchre, speaking for himself, "you needn't

worry none, for I told Buck nothin' but compliments."
Evidently the outlaw's wife liked Euchre, for her keen glance

rested with amusement upon him.
"As for Jen, I'll tell you her story some day," went on the

woman. "It's a common enough story along this river. Euchre
here is a tender-hearted old fool, and Jen has taken him in."

"Wal, seein' as you've got me figgered correct," replied
Euchre, dryly, "I'll go in an' talk to Jennie if I may."

"Certainly. Go ahead. Jen calls you her best friend," said Mrs.
Bland, amiably. "You're always fetching some Mexican stuff, and

that's why, I guess."
When Euchre had shuffled into the house Mrs. Bland turned to

Duane with curiosity and interest in her gaze.
"Bland told me about you."

"What did he say?" queried Duane, in pretended alarm.
"Oh, you needn't think he's done you dirt Bland's not that kind

of a man. He said: 'Kate, there's a young fellow in camp--rode
in here on the dodge. He's no criminal, and he refused to join

my band. Wish he would. Slickest hand with a gun I've seen for
many a day! I'd like to see him and Chess meet out there in the

road.' Then Bland went on to tell how you and Bosomer came
together."

"What did you say?" inquired Duane, as she paused.
"Me? Why, I asked him what you looked like," she replied,

gayly.
"Well?" went on Duane.

"Magnificent chap, Bland said. Bigger than any man in the
valley. Just a great blue-eyed sunburned boy!"

"Humph!" exclaimed Duane. "I'm sorry he led you to expect
somebody worth seeing."

"But I'm not disappointed," she returned, archly. "Duane, are
you going to stay long here in camp?"

"Yes, till I run out of money and have to move. Why?"
Mrs. Bland's face underwent one of the singular changes. The

smiles and flushes and glances, all that had been coquettish
about her, had lent her a certain attractiveness, almost beauty

and youth. But with some powerful emotion she changed and
instantly became a woman of discontent, Duane imagined, of

deep, violent nature.
"I'll tell you, Duane," she said, earnestly, "I'm sure glad if

you mean to bide here awhile. I'm a miserable woman, Duane. I'm
an outlaw's wife, and I hate him and the life I have to lead. I

come of a good family in Brownsville. I never knew Bland was an
outlaw till long after he married me. We were separated at

times, and I imagined he was away on business. But the truth
came out. Bland shot my own cousin, who told me. My family cast

me off, and I had to flee with Bland. I was only eighteen then.
I've lived here since. I never see a decent woman or man. I

never hear anything about my old home or folks or friends. I'm
buried here--buried alive with a lot of thieves and murderers.

Can you blame me for being glad to see a young fellow--a
gentleman--like the boys I used to go with? I tell you it makes

me feel full--I want to cry. I'm sick for somebody to talk to.
I have no children, thank God! If I had I'd not stay here. I'm

sick of this hole. I'm lonely--"
There appeared to be no doubt about the truth of all this.

Genuine emotion checked, then halted the hurried speech. She
broke down and cried. It seemed strange to Duane that an

outlaw's wife--and a woman who fitted her consort and the wild
nature of their surroundings--should have weakness enough to

weep. Duane believed and pitied her.
"I'm sorry for you," he said.

"Don't be SORRY for me," she said. "That only makes me see
the--the difference between you and me. And don't pay any

attention to what these outlaws say about me. They're ignorant.
They couldn't understand me. You'll hear that Bland killed men

who ran after me. But that's a lie. Bland, like all the other
outlaws along this river, is always looking for somebody to

kill. He SWEARS not, but I don't believe him. He explains that
gunplay gravitates to men who are the real thing--that it is

provoked by the four-flushes, the bad men. I don't know. All I
know is that somebody is being killed every other day. He hated

Spence before Spence ever saw me."
"Would Bland object if I called on you occasionally?" inquired

Duane.
"No, he wouldn't. He likes me to have friends. Ask him yourself

when he comes back. The trouble has been that two or three of
his men fell in love with me, and when half drunk got to

fighting. You're not going to do that."
"I'm not going to get half drunk, that's certain," replied

Duane.
He was surprised to see her eyes dilate, then glow with fire.

Before she could reply Euchre returned to the porch, and that
put an end to the conversation.

Duane was content to let the matter rest there, and had little
more to say. Euchre and Mrs. Bland talked and joked, while

Duane listened. He tried to form some estimate of her
character. Manifestly she had suffered a wrong, if not worse,

at Bland's hands. She was bitter, morbid, overemotional. If she
was a liar, which seemed likely enough, she was a frank one,

and believed herself. She had no cunning. The thing which
struck Duane so forcibly was that she thirsted for respect. In

that, better than in her weakness of vanity, he thought he had
discovered a trait through which he could manage her.

Once, while he was revolving these thoughts, he happened to
glance into the house, and deep in the shadow of a corner he

caught a pale gleam of Jennie's face with great, staring eyes
on him. She had been watching him, listening to what he said.

He saw from her expression that she had realized what had been
so hard for her to believe. Watching his chance, he flashed a

look at her; and then it seemed to him the change in her face
was wonderful.

Later, after he had left Mrs. Bland with a meaning
"Adios--manana," and was walking along beside the old outlaw,

he found himself thinking of the girl instead of the woman, and
of how he had seen her face blaze with hope and gratitude.

CHAPTER VII
That night Duane was not troubled by ghosts haunting his waking

and sleeping hours. He awoke feeling bright and eager, and
grateful to Euchre for having put something worth while into

his mind. During breakfast, however, he was unusually
thoughtful, working over the idea of how much or how little he

would confide in the outlaw. He was aware of Euchre's scrutiny.
"Wal," began the old man, at last, "how'd you make out with the

kid?"
"Kid?" inquired Duane, tentatively.

"Jennie, I mean. What'd you An' she talk about?"
"We had a little chat. You know you wanted me to cheer her up."

Euchre sat with coffee-cup poised and narrow eyes studying
Duane.

"Reckon you cheered her, all right. What I'm afeared of is
mebbe you done the job too well."

"How so?"
"Wal, when I went in to Jen last night I thought she was half

crazy. She was burstin' with excitement, an' the look in her
eyes hurt me. She wouldn't tell me a darn word you said. But

she hung onto my hands, an' showed every way without speakin'
how she wanted to thank me fer bringin' you over. Buck, it was

plain to me thet you'd either gone the limit or else you'd been
kinder prodigal of cheer an' hope. I'd hate to think you'd led

Jennie to hope more'n ever would come true."
Euchre paused, and, as there seemed no reply forthcoming, he

went on:
"Buck, I've seen some outlaws whose word was good. Mine is. You

can trust me. I trusted you, didn't I, takin' you over there
an' puttin' you wise to my tryin' to help thet poor kid?"

Thus enjoined by Euchre, Duane began to tell the conversations
with Jennie and Mrs. Bland word for word. Long before he had

reached an end Euchre set down the coffee-cup and began to
stare, and at the conclusion of the story his face lost some of

its red color and beads of sweat stood out thickly on his brow.
"Wal, if thet doesn't floor me!" he ejaculated, blinking at

Duane. "Young man, I figgered you was some swift, an' sure to
make your mark on this river; but I reckon I missed your real

caliber. So thet's what it means to be a man! I guess I'd
forgot. Wal, I'm old, an' even if my heart was in the right

place I never was built fer big stunts. Do you know what it'll
take to do all you promised Jen?"

"I haven't any idea," replied Duane, gravely.
"You'll have to pull the wool over Kate Bland's eyes, ant even

if she falls in love with you, which's shore likely, thet won't
be easy. An' she'd kill you in a minnit, Buck, if she ever got

wise. You ain't mistaken her none, are you?"
"Not me, Euchre. She's a woman. I'd fear her more than any

man."
"Wal, you'll have to kill Bland an' Chess Alloway an' Rugg, an'

mebbe some others, before you can ride off into the hills with
thet girl."

"Why? Can't we plan to be nice to Mrs. Bland and then at an
opportune time sneak off without any gun-play?"

"Don't see how on earth," returned Euchre, earnestly. "When
Bland's away he leaves all kinds of spies an' scouts watchin'

the valley trails. They've all got rifles. You couldn't git by
them.

But when the boss is home there's a difference. Only, of
course, him an' Chess keep their eyes peeled. They both stay to

home pretty much, except when they're playin' monte or poker
over at Benson's. So I say the best bet is to pick out a good

time in the afternoon, drift over careless-like with a couple
of hosses, choke Mrs. Bland or knock her on the head, take

Jennie with you, an' make a rush to git out of the valley. If
you had luck you might pull thet stunt without throwin' a gun.

But I reckon the best figgerin' would include dodgin' some lead
an' leavin' at least Bland or Alloway dead behind you. I'm

figgerin', of course, thet when they come home an' find out
you're visitin' Kate frequent they'll jest naturally look fer

results. Chess don't like you, fer no reason except you're
swift on the draw--mebbe swifter 'n him. Thet's the hell of

this gun-play business. No one can ever tell who's the swifter

• waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
• amusement [ə´mju:zmənt] n.娱乐；文娱设施 (初中英语单词)
• mexican [´meksikən] n.&a.墨西哥人(语)的 (初中英语单词)
• curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
• criminal [´kriminəl] a.犯罪的 n.罪犯 (初中英语单词)
• emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
• violent [´vaiələnt] a.强暴的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
• awhile [ə´wail] ad.少顷；片刻 (初中英语单词)
• miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
• weakness [´wi:knis] n.虚弱；弱点，缺点 (初中英语单词)
• estimate [´estimət, ´estimeit] n.估计；评价 vt.估价 (初中英语单词)
• cunning [´kʌniŋ] a.&n.狡猾(诡诈)的 (初中英语单词)
• vanity [´væniti] n.虚荣；自负；空虚 (初中英语单词)
• sleeping [´sli:piŋ] n.&a.睡着(的) (初中英语单词)
• working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
• excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
• conclusion [kən´klu:ʒən] n.结束；结论；推论 (初中英语单词)
• reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
• valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
• frequent [´fri:kwənt] a.常见的，频繁的 (初中英语单词)
• bucket [´bʌkit] n.水桶 (高中英语单词)
• singular [´siŋgjulə] a.单一的；非凡的 (高中英语单词)
• discontent [´diskən´tent] n.&a.不满(平)(的) (高中英语单词)
• earnestly [´ə:nistli] ad.认真地；急切地 (高中英语单词)
• decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
• hurried [´hʌrid] a.仓促的，慌忙的 (高中英语单词)
• confide [kən´faid] v.委托；吐露；信任 (高中英语单词)
• thickly [´θikli] ad.厚厚地；密密地 (高中英语单词)
• mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
• thieves [θi:vz] thief的复数 (英语四级单词)
• consort [´kɔnsɔ:t] n.&v.配偶；合作；一致 (英语四级单词)
• outlaw [´autlɔ:] n.歹徒 vt.将...放逐 (英语四级单词)
• bluntly [´blʌntli] ad.钝，迟钝地；直率地 (英语六级单词)
• speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
• dilate [dai´leit] v.(使)扩大；详述 (英语六级单词)
• manifestly [´mænifestli] ad.明显的 (英语六级单词)
• forcibly [´fɔ:səbli] ad.强行地，强烈地 (英语六级单词)
• prodigal [´prɔdigəl] a.浪费的 n.挥霍者 (英语六级单词)
• forthcoming [,fɔ:θ´kʌmiŋ] a.即将到来的 (英语六级单词)