"
She ran into the house and returned with bandages; and while she
bathed and dressed the wound Lassiter talked.
"That fellow had a good chance to get me. But he must have
flinched when he pulled the trigger. As I dodged down I saw him
run through the trees. He had a rifle. I've been expectin' that
kind of gun play. I reckon now I'll have to keep a little closer
hid myself. These fellers all seem to get chilly or shaky when
they draw a bead on me, but one of them might jest happen to hit
me."
"Won't you go away--leave Cottonwoods as I've begged you
to--before some one does happen to hit you?" she appealed to him.
"I reckon I'll stay."
"But, oh, Lassiter--your blood will be on my hands!"
"See here, lady, look at your hands now, right now. Aren't they
fine, firm, white hands? Aren't they bloody now? Lassiter's
blood! That's a queer thing to stain your beautiful hands. But if
you could only see deeper you'd find a redder color of blood.
Heart color, Jane!"
"Oh!...My friend!"
"No, Jane, I'm not one to quit when the game grows hot, no more
than you. This game, though, is new to me, an' I don't know the
moves yet, else I wouldn't have stepped in front of that bullet."
"Have you no desire to hunt the man who fired at you--to find
him--and-- and kill him?"
"Well, I reckon I haven't any great hankerin' for that."
"Oh, the wonder of it!.
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