She turned to him again, and this time her gaze went over him slowly, curiously, but without speaking she looked back to the fire, as though explanation of what “hoss-lifting” meant were something far beyond the grasp of his mentality.  His anger rose again, childishly, sullenly, and he had to arm himself with indifference.

“Who’d you drop, Bard?”

“The one they call Calamity Ben.”

“Is he done for?”

“Yes.”

The turmoil of the scene of his escape came back to him so vividly that he wondered why it had ever been blurred to obscurity.

She said:  “In a couple of hours we’d better ride on.”

CHAPTER XXXV

ABANDON

That was all; no comment, no exclamation—­she continued to gaze with that faint, retrospective smile toward the fire.  He knew now why she angered him; it was because she had held the upper hand from the minute that ride over the short pass began—­he had never once been able to assert himself impressively.  He decided to try now.

“I don’t intend to ride on.”

“Too tired?”

He felt the clash of her will on his, even like flint against steel, whenever they spoke, and he began to wonder what spark would start a fire.  It made him think of a game of poker, in a way, for he never knew what the next instant would place in his hands while the cards of chance were shuffled and dealt.  Tired?  There was a subtle, scoffing challenge hidden somewhere in that word.

“No, but I don’t intend to go any farther from Drew.”

Her smile grew more pronounced; she even looked to him with a frank amusement, for apparently she would not take him seriously.

“If I were you, he’d be the last man I’d want to be near.”

“I suppose you would.”

As if she picked up the gauntlet, she turned squarely on the bunk and faced him.

“You’re going to hit the trail in an hour, understand?”

It delighted him—­set him thrilling with excitement to feel her open anger and the grip of her will against his; he had to force a frown in order to conceal a smile.

“If I do, it will be to ride back toward Drew.”

Her lips parted to make an angry retort, and then he watched her steel herself with patience, like a mother teaching an old lesson to a child.

“D’you know what you’d be like, wanderin’ around these mountains without a guide?”

“Well?”

“Like a kid in a dark, lonesome room.  You’d travel in a circle and fall into their hands in a day.”

“Possibly.”

She was still patient.

“Follow me close, Bard.  I mean that if you don’t do what I say I’ll cut loose and leave you alone here.”

He was silent, enjoying her sternness, glad to have roused her, no matter what the consequences; knowing that each second heightened the climax.