"Jack!" he whispered at last. "Thank God!"
"What's happened?"
"McGurk--"
A violent palsy shook him, and he could not go on.
"I know--I understand. He took your guns and left you to wander in
this hell! Damn him! I wish--"
She stopped.
"How long since you've eaten?"
"Years!"
"We'll eat--McGurk's food!"
But she had to assist him up the slope to the trees, and there she
left him propped against a trunk, his arms fallen weakly at his sides,
while she built the fire and cooked the food. Afterward she could
hardly eat, watching him devour what she placed before him; and it
thrilled all the woman in her to a strange warmth to take care of the
long-rider. Then, except for the disfigured face and the bloodshot
eyes, he was himself.
"Up there? What happened?"
He pointed up the valley.
"The girl and Pierre. They're together."
"She found him?"
"Yes."
He bowed his head and sighed.
"And the horse, Jack?" He said it with awe.
"I took the horse from McGurk."
"You!"
She nodded.
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