I got in a shooting-scrape at home and had to run off.

When it blows over I hope to go back." "But you can't be honest here ?" "Yes, I can." "Oh, I know what these outlaws are.

Yes, you're different." She kept the strained gaze upon him, but hope was kindling, and the hard lines of her youthful face were softening.
Something sweet and warm stirred deep in Duane as he realized the unfortunate girl was experiencing a birth of trust in him.
"O God! Maybe you're the man to save me--to take me away before it's too late." Duane's spirit leaped.
"Maybe I am," he replied, instantly.
She seemed to check a blind impulse to run into his arms.

Her cheek flamed, her lips quivered, her bosom swelled under her ragged dress.
Then the glow began to fade; doubt once more assailed her.
"It can't be.

You're only--after me, too, like Bland--like all of them." Duane's long arms went out and his hands clasped her shoulders.