“Jack,” the latter said earnestly, “I read the note over your shoulder, and of course I know what you mean to do. A Southern gentleman could not choose otherwise. But I've come here to beg you to let me have the chance.”
“You?” surprised and curious. “What greater claim on that fellow's life have you than I?”
The pudgy hands of the doctor grasped the plainsman's shoulders.
“It's for Christie,” he explained brokenly. “She was the one he tried to run away with. You--you know how I feel.”
“Sure, I know,” shaking the other off, yet not roughly. “But it happened to be Miss Waite he took, and so this is my job, Fairbain. Besides, I've got another score to settle with him.”
He wasted little time upon preparations,--a few brief words of instruction to Bristoe; a request to the doctor not to leave Hope alone; the extracting of a promise from the two “Bar X” men to return to Larned with the prisoners. Then he roped the best horse in the corral, saddled and bridled him, and went into the cabin. She had a light burning, and met him at the door.
“I thought you would never come, but they told me you were unhurt.”
“Not a scratch, little girl; we have been a lucky bunch. But I have had a great deal to look after. Now I shall be obliged to ride ahead as far as the water-hole, and let you come on with the others a little later, after you get breakfast. You can spare me a few hours, can't you?”
His tone was full of good humor, and his lips smiling, yet somehow she felt her heart sink, an inexplicable fear finding expression in her eyes.
“But--but why do you need to go? Couldn't some of the others?”
“There is a reason which I will explain later,” he said, more gravely. “Surely you can trust me, Hope, and feel that I am only doing what it seems absolutely necessary for me to do?” He bent down, and kissed her. “It will be only for a few hours, and no cause for worry. Good-bye now, until we meet to-night at the water-hole.”
The east was gray with coming daylight as he rode plashing across the stream and up the opposite bank. She watched hint, rubbing the blinding mist from her eyes, until horse and man became a mere dark speck, finally fading away completely into the dull plain of the desert.
Keith rode straight forward into the sandy desolation, spurring his horse into a swift trot. After one glance backward as they clambered up the steep bank, a glance which revealed Hope's slender form in the cabin door, his eyes never turned again that way. He had a man's stern work to do out yonder, and his purpose could not be swerved, his firmness of hand and keenness of eye affected, by any thought of her. His lips compressed, his fingers gripping the rein, he drove all regretful memory from his mind, until every nerve within him throbbed in unison with his present purpose. He was right; he knew he was right. It was not hate, not even revenge, which had sent him forth, leaving love behind, but honor--the honor of the South, and of the frontier, of his ancestry and his training--honor that drove him now to meet Hawley face to face, man to man, to settle the feud between them for all time. And he rode smiling, gladly, as to a tryst, now that he was at last alone, free in the desert.