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Updated: May 12, 2025
I believe you're softened toward most, perhaps all, my people except But when I speak of your purpose, your hate, your guns, I have only him in mind. I don't believe you've changed." For answer he unbuckled the heavy cartridge-belt, and laid it with the heavy, swing gun-sheaths in her lap. "Lassiter!" Jane whispered, as she gazed from him to the black, cold guns.
In the moonlight she saw his dark, worn face change, and by that change she seemed to feel him immovable as a wall of stone. Jane slipped her hands down to the swinging gun-sheaths, and when she had locked her fingers around the huge, cold handles of the guns, she trembled as with a chilling ripple over all her body. "May I take your guns?"
Absolute certainty, beyond any shadow of doubt, breathed in the rider's low voice. "Who are you? We are seven here." The rider dropped his sombrero and made a rapid movement, singular in that it left him somewhat crouched, arms bent and stiff, with the big black gun-sheaths swung round to the fore.
With that he began to pace the court, and his silver spurs jangled musically, and the great gun-sheaths softly brushed against his leather chaps. "So it's true what I heard him say?" Lassiter asked, presently halting before her. "You made love to me to bind my hands?" "Yes," confessed Jane. It took all her woman's courage to meet the gray storm of his glance.
What would Tull say to this achievement of the outcast who rode too often to Deception Pass? Venters's curious eagerness and expectation had not prepared him for the shock he received when he stood over a slight, dark figure. The rustler wore the black mask that had given him his name, but he had no weapons. Venters glanced at the drooping horse, there were no gun-sheaths on the saddle.
Cold and intangible were all things in earth and heaven. Colder and tighter stretched the skin over his face; colder and harder grew the polished butts of his guns; colder and steadier became his hands as he wiped the clammy sweat from his face or reached low to his gun-sheaths. Men meeting him in the walk gave him wide berth.
Suddenly he pulled his sombrero down over his bandaged head and, swinging his gun-sheaths round in front, he stepped into the alcove. "It's a hoss comin' fast," he added. Jane's listening ear soon caught a faint, rapid, rhythmic beat of hoofs. It came from the sage. It gave her a thrill that she was at a loss to understand. The sound rose stronger, louder.
There, beside his horse, stood Lassiter, his dark apparel and the great black gun-sheaths contrasting singularly with his gentle smile. Jane's active mind took up her interest in him and her half-determined desire to use what charm she had to foil his evident design in visiting Cottonwoods.
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