"
"Did you know who he was?" asked Jane, in a low voice.
"Yes."
Jane did not ask to know; she did not want to know; she feared to
know. All her calmness fled at a single thought
"Thet's why I'm packin' guns," went on Judkins. "For I'll never
quit ridin' for you, Miss Withersteen, till you let me
go."
"Judkins, do you want to leave me?"
"Do I look thet way? Give me a hoss--a fast hoss, an' send me out
on the sage."
"Oh, thank you, Judkins! You're more faithful than my own people.
I ought not accept your loyalty--you might suffer more through
it. But what in the world can I do? My head whirls. The wrong to
Venters--the stolen herd--these masks, threats, this coil in the
dark! I can't understand! But I feel something dark and terrible
closing in around me."
"Miss Withersteen, it's all simple enough," said Judkins,
earnestly. "Now please listen--an' beggin' your pardon--jest turn
thet deaf Mormon ear aside, an' let me talk clear an' plain in
the other. I went around to the saloons an' the stores an' the
loafin' places yesterday. All your riders are in. There's talk of
a vigilance band organized to hunt down rustlers. They call
themselves 'The Riders.' Thet's the report--thet's the reason
given for your riders leavin' you. Strange thet only a few riders
of other ranchers joined the band! An' Tull's man, Jerry Card--
he's the leader.
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