"Git back thar as I done tol' ye," he rasped; "afore ye git wuss."

With a deft twist of the body, Plutina stood free. The face, which had paled, flushed darkly. The eyes blazed. The head was uplifted in scorn. Her aspect awed the man, and he hesitated, gaping at her. Yet her voice was very soft when she spoke. The tone surprised her listener, rendered him strangely uneasy, for some reason he could not understand.

"Thet ten minutes ye was late was more'n I had need fer, Dan Hodges," she said. "I promised ye yer answer hyar, an' I'm a-goin' to give hit to ye right now."

She lifted an arm, and pointed to where the Devil's Cauldron blotched the cliffs of the mountainside ... It was her left arm that she lifted.

"Look, Dan! See thet-thar big hole in the wall. I been a-lookin' at hit, Dan. I 'low you-all don't dast look at hit. Mebby ye're afeared o' seein' the bones o' them hit holds--bones o' dead men--what you-all an' yer gang hev kilt an' slid into the pot, to lie hid till Jedgment. Hit's thar ye're aimin' to put my Zeke. Why, a haar o' his head's wuth more'n the hull caboodle of sech murderers as yew be."

She stepped closer to the outlaw, and spoke with unleashed hate. He flinched at the change.

"I was skeered o' ye back thar on the piazzy yist'-day, an' I lied to ye, kase I was skeered. I wasn't a-likin' the look in them pig eyes o' your'n. An' I was a-feared o' Gran'pap's hearin' how I reported the still. Wall, now I hain't skeered no more. I promised ye yer answer at the gate. We'll move over thar, an' I'll keep my promise."

Before he could guess her purpose, before he could shift the rifle from the hollow of his arm, the fingers of Plutina's right hand had slipped within the open bodice. The Colt's flashed in the sunlight. The level barrel lay motionless, in deadly readiness. For the girl, though not yet quite sure, was almost sure that she would kill Dan Hodges.

The idea had not come to her until this meeting. In all the racking hours of thought, this simple solution of the difficulty had never entered her mind. Now, at its coming, she welcomed it with infinite relief. It offered a means of escape so simple and so sure--escape for herself and for those she loved. It was the touch of the man that had wrought the miracle of revolt. She had felt herself polluted by the contact. On the instant, the hypocrisy of cajoling was no longer possible. But there was more in the effect than that. The savagery of the outlaw aroused the savagery in her. She became, in the twinkling of an eye, the primitive woman. There was little in the sentiment of her people to dam the outburst. Her kin had followed the lex talionis. They had killed their fellows for the sake of their proper pride. The blood-feud was familiar to her, and she knew no shame in it. Why should she not slay this creature who outraged her self-respect, who threatened her every hope? Her finger on the trigger of the revolver tensed ever so slightly.




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