Perhaps we may meet out there." "Mebbe so.

But the sage is wide an' I won't be near.

Good night." At Lassiter's low whistle the black horse whinnied, and carefully picked his blind way out of the grove.

The rider did not bridle him, but walked beside him, leading him by touch of hand and together they passed slowly into the shade of the cottonwoods.
"Jane, I must be off soon," said Venters.

"Give me my guns.