At last he propped himself on one elbow, shook a small, white-knuckled fist under the nose of Mary, and cried: "Then what would he do with you ?" He went on: "Would he wear you around his neck like a watch charm ?" "I'd bring him back with me--back into the East, and he would be lost among the crowds and never suspected of his past." "_You'd_ bring Pierre anywhere?
Say, lady, that's like hearing the sheep talk about leading the wolf around by the nose.

If all the men in the ranges can't catch him, or make him budge an inch out of the way he's picked, do you think you could stir him ?" Jeering laughter shook him; it seemed that he would never be done with his laughter, yet there was a hint of the hysterically mirthless in it.

It came to a jarring stop.
He said: "D'you think he's just bein' driven around by chance?
Lady, d'you think he even _wants_ to get out of this life of his?
No, he loves it! He loves the danger.

D'you think a man that's used to breathing in a whirlwind can get used to living in calm air?
It can't be done!" And the girl answered steadily: "For every man there is one woman, and for that woman the man will do strange things." "You poor, white-faced, whimpering fool," snarled the boy, gripping at his gun again, "d'you dream that you're the one that's picked out for Pierre?
No, there's another!" "Another?
A woman who--" "Who loves Pierre--a woman that's fit for him.

She can ride like a man; she can shoot almost as straight and as fast as Pierre; she can handle a knife; and she's been through hell for Pierre, and she'll go through it again.