"I do not. I've had
all the fighting I want for one day. Now, my own course is simple. I have
merely to go back to New York and forget that either of you ever existed.
But your problem is more difficult. It's after eight. You've lost the
ranch. And you have no money."
"But I can earn money," Gilbert said.
"A hundred dollars a month punching cows? With her in a boarding-house in
Bisbee? A nice life, isn't it? Do you care to think of it, both of you?"
"I can take care of her," Gilbert was quick in saying.
"With your friend, Lopez--if he escapes--become a professional killer. My
dear chap, you forget. She's used to decent people. It makes all the
difference in the world." Pell turned away, lest the hard look should
return to his countenance.
Lucia had been listening intently. "I know him, Gil," she whispered, loud
enough for her husband to hear. "He's trying to frighten us!"
Pell faced her. "Frighten you? You're wrong, my dear. I'm merely trying to
help you. That's all."
There was a step on the path--another step. Several people were approaching
the adobe. Without ceremony, the door was thrust open, and Bradley was
before them, excitement in his eyes.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223