The calm steady coolness of the man was having its natural effect, was helping to control her own nerves.

She felt his strength, his confidence, and was beginning to lean upon him--he seemed to know exactly what he was about.
"Well, no, honestly I don't; not yet," he returned, hesitating slightly.

"There is no use denying we are in a mighty bad hole.

If Moylan had n't got shot we might have held out till help arrived; I 've got about twenty cartridges left; but you and I alone never could do it.

I 've got to think it out, I reckon; this has been a blind fight so far; nothing to it but blazing away as fast as I could pull trigger.
Now, maybe, I can use my brains a bit." She could not see him, but some instinct led her to put out her hand and touch the rough sleeve of his shirt.