“Because I don’t know, you see.”

“Don’t know?”

“He’s given me the slip.”

“You!”

“Funny, ain’t it?  But he has.  Thought I couldn’t ride fast enough to keep up with him, maybe.  He’s gone on east, of course.”

“That’s another lie.”

“Well, you know.”

“I do.”

His voice changed.

“Has he really beat it away from you, Sally?”

She watched him with a strange, sneering smile.  Then she stepped close.

“Lean your ear down to me, Steve.”

He obeyed.

“I’ll tell you what ought to make you happy.  He don’t care for me no more than I care for—­you, Steve.”

He straightened again, wondering.

“And you?”

“I threw myself at him.  I dunno why I’m tellin’ you, except it’s right that you should know.  But he don’t want me; he’s gone on without me.”

“An’ you like him still?”

She merely stared, with a sick smile.

“My God!” he murmured, shaken deep with wonder.  “What’s he made of?”

“Steel and fire—­that’s all.”

“Listen, Sally, forget what I’ve done, and—­”

“Would you drop his trail, Steve?”

He cursed through his set teeth.

“If that’s it—­no.  It’s him or me, and I’m sure to beat him out.  Afterwards you’ll forget him.”

“Try me.”

“Girls have said that before.  I’ll wait.  There ain’t no one but you for me—­damn you—­I know that.  I’ll get him first, and then I’ll wait.”

“Ten like you couldn’t get him.”

“I’ve six men behind me.”

She was still defiant, but her colour changed.

“Six, Sally, and he’s out here among the hills, not knowing his right from his left.  I ask you:  has he got a chance?”

She answered:  “No; not one.”

He turned on his heel, beckoned to Kilrain, who had stood moveless through the strange dialogue, and went out into the night.

As they mounted he said:  “We’re going straight for the place where I told Butch Conklin I’d meet him.  Then the bunch of us will come back.”

“Why waste time?”

“Because he’s sure to come back.  Shorty, after a feller has seen Sally smile—­the way she can smile—­he couldn’t keep away.  I know!”

They rode off at a slow trot, like men who have resigned themselves to a long journey, and Sally watched them from the door.  She sat down, crosslegged, before the fire, and stirred the embers, and strove to think.

But she was not equipped for thinking, all her life had been merely action, action, action, and now, as she strove to build out some logical sequence and find her destiny in it, she failed miserably, and fell back upon herself.  She was one of those single-minded people who give themselves up to emotion rarely, but when they do their whole body, their whole soul burns in the flame.