Clothed all in
dull gray she was, like a savage young Quakeress. Even the red
ribbons were gone from her hair, which was covered by the gray
blanket wrapped tightly around her slim body. She drew him back
from the rim of the bluff.
"You no shout," she murmured gravely. "No lettum see you here.
You go quick. Ketchum you cayuse, go to ranch. You no tellum
you be this place."
Good Indian stood still, and looked at her. She stood with her
arms folded in her blanket, regarding him with a certain yearning
steadfastness.
"You all time think why," she said, shrewdly reading his
thoughts, "I no take shame. I glad." She flushed, and looked
away to the far side of the Snake. "Bad mans no more try for
shoot you, mebbyso. I heap--"
Good Indian reached out, and caught her by both shoulders.
"Rachel--if you did that, don't tell me about it. Don't tell me
anything. I don't ask you--I don't want to know." He spoke
rapidly, in the grip of his first impulse to shield her from what
she had done.
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