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Afterward you ll git over it. I ve seen some soul-rackin scenes on this Utah
border, but this was the awfulest. I remember I closed my eyes, an fer a
minute I thought of the strangest things, out of place there, such as you d
never dream would come to mind. I saw the sage, an runnin hosses an
thet s the beautfulest sight to me an I saw dim things in the dark, an
there was a kind of hummin in my ears. An I remember distinctly fer it was
what made all these things whirl out of my mind an opened my eyes I
remember distinctly it was the smell of gunpowder.
The court had about adjourned fer thet judge. He was on his knees, an he
wasn t prayin . He was gaspin an tryin to press his big, floppin , crippled
hands over his body. Lassiter had sent all those last thunderin shots through
his body. Thet was Lassiter s way.
An Lassiter spoke, an if I ever forgit his words I ll never forgit the
sound of his voice.
Proselyter, I reckon you d better call quick on thet God who reveals
Hisself to you on earth, because He won t be visitin the place you re goin
to!
An then I seen Dyer look at his big, hangin hands thet wasn t big enough
fer the last work he set them to. An he looked up at Lassiter. An then he
stared horrible at somethin thet wasn t Lassiter, nor anyone there, nor the
room, nor the branches of purple sage peepin into the winder. Whatever he
seen, it was with the look of a man who discovers somethin too late. Thet s a
terrible look! & An with a horrible understandin cry he slid forrard on his
face.
Judkins paused in his narrative, breathing heavily while he wiped his
perspiring brow.
Thet s about all, he concluded. Lassiter left the meetin -house an I
hurried to catch up with him. He was bleedin from three gunshots, none of
them much to bother him. An we come right up here. I found you layin in the
hall, an I hed to work some over you.
Jane Withersteen offered up no prayer for Dyer s soul.
Lassiter s step sounded in the hall the familiar soft, silver-clinking step
and she heard it with thrilling new emotions in which was a vague joy in her
very fear of him. The door opened, and she saw him, the old Lassiter, slow,
easy, gentle, cool, yet not exactly the same Lassiter. She rose, and for a
moment her eyes blurred and swam in tears.
Are you all all right? she asked, tremulously.
I reckon.
Lassiter, I ll ride away with you. Hide me till danger is past till we are
forgotten then take me where you will. Your people shall be my people, and
your God my God!
He kissed her hand with the quaint grace and courtesy that came to him in
rare moments.
Black Star an Night are ready, he said, simply.
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His quiet mention of the black racers spurred Jane to action. Hurrying to her
room, she changed to her rider s suit, packed her jewelry, and the gold that
was left, and all the woman s apparel for which there was space in the
saddle-bags, and then returned to the hall. Black Star stamped his iron-shod
hoofs and tossed his beautiful head, and eyed her with knowing eyes.
Judkins, I give Bells to you, said Jane. I hope you will always keep him
and be good to him.
Judkins mumbled thanks that he could not speak fluently, and his eyes
flashed.
Lassiter strapped Jane s saddle-bags upon Black Star, and led the racers out
into the court.
Judkins, you ride with Jane out into the sage. If you see any riders comin
shout quick twice. An , Jane, don t look back! I ll catch up soon. We ll get
to the break into the Pass before midnight, an then wait until mornin to go
down.
Black Star bent his graceful neck and bowed his noble head, and his broad
shoulders yielded as he knelt for Jane to mount.
She rode out of the court beside Judkins, through the grove, across the wide
lane into the sage, and she realized that she was leaving Withersteen House
forever, and she did not look back. A strange, dreamy, calm peace pervaded her
soul. Her doom had fallen upon her, but, instead of finding life no longer
worth living she found it doubly significant, full of sweetness as the western
breeze, beautiful and unknown as the sage-slope stretching its purple sunset
shadows before her. She became aware of Judkins s hand touching hers; she
heard him speak a husky good-by; then into the place of Bells shot the
dead-black, keen, racy nose of Night, and she knew Lassiter rode beside her.
Don t look back! he said, and his voice, too, was not clear.
Facing straight ahead, seeing only the waving, shadowy sage, Jane held out
her gauntleted hand, to feel it enclosed in strong clasp. So she rode on
without a backward glance at the beautiful grove of Cottonwoods. She did not
seem to think of the past of what she left forever, but of the color and
mystery and wildness of the sage-slope leading down to Deception Pass, and of
the future. She watched the shadows lengthen down the slope; she felt the cool
west wind sweeping by from the rear; and she wondered at low, yellow clouds
sailing swiftly over her and beyond.
Don t look back! said Lassiter.
Thick-driving belts of smoke traveled by on the wind, and with it came a
strong, pungent odor of burning wood.
Lassiter had fired Withersteen House! But Jane did not look back.
A misty veil obscured the clear, searching gaze she had kept steadfastly upon
the purple slope and the dim lines of canyons. It passed, as passed the
rolling clouds of smoke, and she saw the valley deepening into the shades of
twilight. Night came on, swift as the fleet racers, and stars peeped out to
brighten and grow, and the huge, windy, eastern heave of sage-level paled
under a rising moon and turned to silver. Blanched in moonlight, the sage yet
seemed to hold its hue of purple and was infinitely more wild and lonely. So
the night hours wore on, and Jane Withersteen never once looked back.
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Chapter 21
Black Star and Night
The time had come for Venters and Bess to leave their retreat. They were at
great pains to choose the few things they would be able to carry with them on
the journey out of Utah.
Bern, whatever kind of a pack s this, anyhow? questioned Bess, rising from
her work with reddened face.
Venters, absorbed in his own task, did not look up at all, and in reply said
he had brought so much from Cottonwoods that he did not recollect the half of
it.
A woman packed this! Bess exclaimed.
He scarcely caught her meaning, but the peculiar tone of her voice caused him
instantly to rise, and he saw Bess on her knees before an open pack which he
recognized as the one given him by Jane.
By George! he ejaculated, guiltily, and then at sight of Bess s face he
laughed outright.
A woman packed this, she repeated, fixing woeful, tragic eyes on him.
Well, is that a crime?
There there is a woman, after all!
Now Bess
You ve lied to me!
Then and there Venters found it imperative to postpone work for the present.
All her life Bess had been isolated, but she had inherited certain elements of
the eternal feminine.
But there was a woman and you did lie to me, she kept repeating, after he
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