He took off his coat and spread it over the head and shoulders of the dead man, weighted the edges with rocks and rode away.
Halfway up the hill he left the road and took a narrow trail through the sage, a short-cut that would save him a couple of miles.
The trail crossed the ridge half a mile beyond Rock City, dipping into the lower end of the small gulch where he had overtaken the girl.

The place recalled with fresh vividness, her first words to him: "Are _you_ the man I saw shoot that other man and fasten his foot in the stirrup ?" Lone shivered and threw away the cigarette he had just lighted.
"My God, that girl mustn't tell that to any one else!" he exclaimed apprehensively.

"No matter who she is or what she is, she mustn't tell that!" "Hello! Who you talking to?
I heard somebody talking----" The bushes parted above a low, rocky ledge and a face peered out, smiling good-humoredly.

Lone started a little and pulled up.
"Oh, hello, Swan.

I was just telling this horse of mine all I was going to do to him.