Why, Bland's men would shoot at you in the fields.

What'll you do, son ?" "God knows," replied Duane, hopelessly.

"I'll make my money last as long as possible--then starve." "Wal, I'm pretty pore, but you'll never starve while I got anythin'." Here it struck Duane again--that something human and kind and eager which he had seen in Stevens.

Duane's estimate of outlaws had lacked this quality.

He had not accorded them any virtues.