Her downcast gaze saw that his right hand was bandaged, and she touched it with an unconscious tenderness.
"Your hand! Why is it all wrapped up ?" The cowboy laughed with grim humor.
"Have you seen Jack this morning ?" "No," she replied, shortly.
"Well, if you had, you'd know what happened to my fist." "Did you hurt it on him ?" she asked, with a queer little shudder that was not unpleasant.
"Collie, I busted that fist on his handsome face." "Oh, it was dreadful!" she murmured.

"Wilson, he meant to kill you." "Sure.

And I'd cheerfully have killed him." "You two must never meet again," she went on.
"I hope to Heaven we never do," replied Moore, with a dark earnestness that meant more than his actual words.
"Wilson, will you avoid him--for my sake ?" implored Columbine, unconsciously clasping the bandaged hand.
"I will.

I'll take the back trails.

I'll sneak like a coyote.