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And with these passionate words Jane Withersteen succumbed to fury. For the second time in her life she fell into the ungovernable rage that had been her father's weakness. And it was worse than his, for she was a jealous woman jealous even of her friends. As best he could, he bore the brunt of her anger.
A sharp clip-crop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage. Jane Withersteen gazed down the wide purple slope with dreamy and troubled eyes.
"No, it won't do," he said, when he had somewhat recovered himself. "Miss Withersteen, there are things that you don't know, and there's not a soul among us who can tell you." "I seem to be learning many things, Carson. Well, then, will you let me aid you say till better times?" "Yes, I will," he replied, with his face lighting up. "I see what it means to you, and you know what it means to me.
You'd never believe it, Miss Withersteen, but I know. Wrangle's the biggest en' fastest hoss on the sage." "Oh no, Wrangle can't beat Black Star. But, Bern, take Wrangle if you will go. Ask Jerd for anything you need. Oh, be watchful careful.... God speed you." She clasped his hand, turned quickly away, and went down a lane with the rider.
I know," went on Venters, tauntingly, "it galls you, the idea of beautiful Jane Withersteen being friendly to a poor Gentile. You want her all yourself. You're a wiving Mormon. You have use for her and Withersteen House and Amber Spring and seven thousand head of cattle!" Tull's hard jaw protruded, and rioting blood corded the veins of his neck. "Once more. Will you go?"
He said Tull an' a few more dogs of hell builded their empire out of the hearts of such innocent an' God-fearin' women as Jane Withersteen. He called Tull a binder of women, a callous beast who hid behind a mock mantle of righteousness an' the last an' lowest coward on the face of the earth. To prey on weak women through their religion that was the last unspeakable crime!
"I wanted to roll it meant to but I can't. Venters's valley is down behind here. We could live there. But if I roll the stone we're shut in for always. I don't dare. I'm thinkin' of you!" "Lassiter! Roll the stone!" she cried. He arose, tottering, but with set face, and again he placed the bloody hand on the Balancing Rock. Jane Withersteen gazed from him down the passageway. Tull was climbing.
The loss of herds and ranges, even of Amber Spring and the Old Stone House, no longer concerned Jane Withersteen, she faced the foremost thought of her life, what she now considered the mightiest problem the salvation of her soul.
But Jane couldn't mend a broken heart, and Milly died." For moments Lassiter did not speak, or turn his head. "The man!" he exclaimed, presently, in husky accents. "I haven't the slightest idea who the Mormon was," replied Venters; "nor has any Gentile in Cottonwoods." "Does Jane Withersteen know?" "Yes. But a red-hot running-iron couldn't burn that name out of her!"
She brought him brandy and food, and while he partook of refreshments, of which he appeared badly in need, she asked no questions. "No one rider could hev done more Miss Withersteen," he went on, presently. "Judkins, don't be distressed. You've done more than any other rider. I've long expected to lose the white herd. It's no surprise. It's in line with other things that are happening.
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