In her fear she so controlled her mind that she did not whisper this Mormon's name to her own soul, she did not even think it.

Besides, beyond this thing she regarded as a sacred obligation thrust upon her, was the need of a helper, of a friend, of a champion in this critical time.

If she could rule this gun-man, as Venters had called him, if she could even keep him from shedding blood, what strategy to play his flame and his presence against the game of oppression her churchmen were waging against her?
Never would she forget the effect on Tull and his men when Venters shouted Lassiter's name.

If she could not wholly control Lassiter, then what she could do might put off the fatal day.
One of her safe racers was a dark bay, and she called him Bells because of the way he struck his iron shoes on the stones.

When Jerd led out this slender, beautifully built horse Lassiter suddenly became all eyes.
A rider's love of a thoroughbred shone in them.