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Venters.
"Whoa, Wrangle, old boy! Come down. Easy now. So--so--so. You re

home, old boy, and presently you can have a drink of water you'll
remember."

In the voice Jane knew the rider to be Venters. He tied Wrangle
to the hitching-rack and turned to the court.

"Oh, Bern!...You wild man!" she exclaimed.
"Jane--Jane, it's good to see you! Hello, Lassiter! Yes, it's

Venters."
Like rough iron his hard hand crushed Jane's. In it she felt the

difference she saw in him. Wild, rugged, unshorn--yet how
splendid! He had gone away a boy--he had returned a man. He

appeared taller, wider of shoulder, deeper-chested, more
powerfully built. But was that only her fancy--he had always been

a young giant--was the change one of spirit? He might have been
absent for years, proven by fire and steel, grown like Lassiter,

strong and cool and sure. His eyes--were they keener, more
flashing than before?--met hers with clear, frank, warm regard,

in which perplexity was not, nor discontent, nor pain.
"Look at me long as you like," he said, with a laugh. "I'm not

much to look at. And, Jane, neither you nor Lassiter, can brag.
You're paler than I ever saw you. Lassiter, here, he wears a

bloody bandage under his hat. That reminds me. Some one took a
flying shot at me down in the sage. It made Wrangle run

some....Well, perhaps you've more to tell me than I've got to
tell you."

Briefly, in few words, Jane outlined the circumstances of her
undoing in the weeks of his absence.

Under his beard and bronze she saw his face whiten in terrible
wrath.

"Lassiter--what held you back?"
No time in the long period of fiery moments and sudden shocks had

Jane Withersteen ever beheld Lassiter as calm and serene and cool
as then.

"Jane had gloom enough without my addin' to it by shootin' up the
village," he said.

As strange as Lassiter's coolness was Venters's curious, intent
scrutiny of them both, and under it Jane felt a flaming tide wave

from bosom to temples.
"Well--you're right," he said, with slow pause. "It surprises me

a little, that's all."
Jane sensed then a slight alteration in Venters, and what it was,

in her own confusion, she could not tell. It had always been her
intention to acquaint him with the deceit she had fallen to in

her zeal to move Lassiter. She did not mean to spare herself. Yet
now, at the moment, before these riders, it was an impossibility

to explain.
Venters was speaking somewhat haltingly, without his former

frankness. "I found Oldring's hiding-place and your red herd. I
learned--I know-- I'm sure there was a deal between Tull and

Oldring." He paused and shifted his position and his gaze. He
looked as if he wanted to say something that he found beyond him.

Sorrow and pity and shame seemed to contend for mastery over him.
Then he raised himself and spoke with effort. "Jane I've cost you

too much. You've almost ruined yourself for me. It was wrong, for
I'm not worth it. I never deserved such friendship. Well, maybe

it's not too late. You must give me up. Mind, I haven't changed.
I am just the same as ever. I'll see Tull while I'm here, and

tell him to his face."
"Bern, it's too late," said Jane.

"I'll make him believe!" cried Venters, violently.
"You ask me to break our friendship?"

"Yes. If you don't, I shall."
"Forever?"

"Forever!"
Jane sighed. Another shadow had lengthened down the sage slope to

cast further darkness upon her. A melancholysweetness pervaded
her resignation. The boy who had left her had returned a man,

nobler, stronger, one in whom she divined something unbending as
steel. There might come a moment later when she would wonder why

she had not fought against his will, but just now she yielded to
it. She liked him as well--nay, more, she thought, only her

emotions were deadened by the long, menacing wait for the
bursting storm.

Once before she had held out her hand to him--when she gave it;
now she stretched it tremblingly forth in acceptance of the

decree circumstance had laid upon them. Venters bowed over it
kissed it, pressed it hard, and half stifled a sound very like a

sob. Certain it was that when he raised his head tears glistened
in his eyes.

"Some--women--have a hard lot," he said, huskily. Then he shook
his powerful form, and his rags lashed about him. "I'll say a few

things to Tull--when I meet him."
"Bern--you'll not draw on Tull? Oh, that must not be! Promise

me--"
"I promise you this," he interrupted, in stern passion that

thrilled while it terrorized her. "If you say one more word for
that plotter I'll kill him as I would a mad coyote!"

Jane clasped her hands. Was this fire-eyed man the one whom she
had once made as wax to her touch? Had Venters become Lassiter

and Lassiter Venters?
"I'll--say no more," she faltered.

"Jane, Lassiter once called you blind," said Venters. "It must be
true. But I won't upbraid you. Only don't rouse the devil in me

by praying for Tull! I'll try to keep cool when I meet him.
That's all. Now there's one more thing I want to ask of you--the

last. I've found a valley down in the Pass. It's a wonderful
place. I intend to stay there. It's so hidden I believe no one

can find it. There's good water, and browse, and game. I want to
raise corn and stock. I need to take in supplies. Will you give

them to me?"
"Assuredly. The more you take the better you'll please me--and

perhaps the less my--my enemies will get."
"Venters, I reckon you'll have trouble packin' anythin' away,"

put in Lassiter.
"I'll go at night."

"Mebbe that wouldn't be best. You'd sure be stopped. You'd better
go early in the mornin'--say, just after dawn. That's the safest

time to move round here."
"Lassiter, I'll be hard to stop," returned Venters, darkly.

"I reckon so."
"Bern," said Jane, "go first to the riders' quarters and get

yourself a complete outfit. You're a--a sight. Then help yourself
to whatever else you need--burros, packs, grain, dried fruits,

and meat. You must take coffee and sugar and flour--all kinds of
supplies. Don't forget corn and seeds. I remember how you used to

starve. Please--please take all you can pack away from here. I'll
make a bundle for you, which you mustn't open till you're in your

valley. How I'd like to see it! To judge by you and Wrangle, how
wild it must be!"

Jane walked down into the outer court and approached the sorrel.
Upstarting, he laid back his ears and eyed her.

"Wrangle--dear old Wrangle," she said, and put a caressing hand
on his matted mane. "Oh, he's wild, but he knows me! Bern, can he

run as fast as ever?"
"Run? Jane, he's done sixty miles since last night at dark, and I

could make him kill Black Star right now in a ten-mile race."
"He never could," protested Jane. "He couldn't even if he was

fresh."
"I reckon mebbe the best hoss'll prove himself yet," said

Lassiter, "an', Jane, if it ever comes to that race I'd like you
to be on Wrangle."

"I'd like that, too," rejoined Venters. "But, Jane, maybe
Lassiter's hint is extreme. Bad as your prospects are, you'll

surely never come to the running point."
"Who knows!" she replied, with mournful smile.

"No, no, Jane, it can't be so bad as all that. Soon as I see Tull
there'll be a change in your fortunes. I'll hurry down to the

village....Now don't worry."
Jane retired to the seclusion of her room. Lassiter's subtle

forecasting of disaster, Venters's forced optimism, neither
remained in mind. Material loss weighed nothing in the balance

with other losses she was sustaining. She wondered dully at her
sitting there, hands folded listlessly, with a kind of numb

deadness to the passing of time and the passing of her riches.
She thought of Venters's friendship. She had not lost that, but

she had lost him. Lassiter's friendship--that was more than
love--it would endure, but soon he, too, would be gone. Little

Pay slept dreamlessly upon the bed, her golden curls streaming
over the pillow. Jane had the child's worship. Would she lose

that, too? And if she did, what then would be left? Conscience
thundered at her that there was left her religion. Conscience

thundered that she should be grateful on her knees for this
baptism of fire; that through misfortune, sacrifice, and

suffering her soul might be fused pure gold. But the old,
spontaneous, rapturous spirit no more exalted her. She wanted to

be a woman--not a martyr. Like the saint of old who mortified his
flesh, Jane Withersteen had in her the temper for heroic

martyrdom, if by sacrificing herself she could save the souls of
others. But here the damnable verdict blistered her that the more

she sacrificed herself the blacker grew the souls of her
churchmen. There was something terribly wrong with her soul,

something terribly wrong with her churchmen and her religion. In
the whirling gulf of her thought there was yet one shining light

to guide her, to sustain her in her hope; and it was that,
despite her errors and her frailties and her blindness, she had

one absolute and unfaltering hold on ultimate and supreme
justice. That was love. "Love your enemies as yourself!" was a

divine word, entirely free from any church or creed.
Jane's meditations were disturbed by Lassiter's soft, tinkling

step in the court. Always he wore the clinking spurs. Always he
was in readiness to ride. She passed out and called him into the

huge, dim hall.
"I think you'll be safer here. The court is too open," she said.

"I reckon," replied Lassiter. "An' it's cooler here. The day's
sure muggy. Well, I went down to the village with

Venters."
"Already! Where is he?" queried Jane, in quick amaze.

"He's at the corrals. Blake's helpin' him get the burros an'
packs ready. That Blake is a good fellow."

"Did--did Bern meet Tull?"
"I guess he did," answered Lassiter, and he laughed dryly.

"Tell me! Oh, you exasperate me! You're so cool, so calm! For
Heaven's sake, tell me what happened!"

"First time I've been in the village for weeks," went on
Lassiter, mildly. "I reckon there 'ain't been more of a show for

a long time. Me an' Venters walkin' down the road! It was funny.
I ain't sayin' anybody was particular glad to see us. I'm not

much thought of hereabouts, an' Venters he sure looks like what
you called him, a wild man. Well, there was some runnin' of folks

before we got to the stores. Then everybody vamoosed except some
surprised rustlers in front of a saloon. Venters went right in

the stores an' saloons, an' of course I went along. I don't know
which tickled me the most--the actions of many fellers we met, or

Venters's nerve. Jane, I was downright glad to be along. You see
that sort of thing is my element, an' I've been away from it for

a spell. But we didn't find Tull in one of them places. Some
Gentile feller at last told Venters he'd find Tull in that long

buildin' next to Parsons's store. It's a kind of meetin'-room;
and sure enough, when we peeped in, it was half full of men.

"Venters yelled: 'Don't anybody pull guns! We ain't come for


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