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But Jane Withersteen only clasped Fay in her arms, and looked at Lassiter with wet and glistening eyes. Shefford told them to hurry and come to the cliff where the ascent from the valley was to be made. He thought best to leave them alone to make their preparations and bid farewell to the cavern home they had known for so long.
Then might come her ruin. Then might come her fall into black storm. Yet she would rise again, and to the light. God would be merciful to a driven woman who had lost her way. A week passed. Little Fay played and prattled and pulled at Lassiter's big black guns. The rider came to Withersteen House oftener than ever. Jane saw a change in him, though it did not relate to his kindness and gentleness.
Once more her strained gaze sought the sage-slopes. Jane Withersteen loved that wild and purple wilderness. In times of sorrow it had been her strength, in happiness its beauty was her continual delight. In her extremity she found herself murmuring, "Whence cometh my help!"
Near her stood a lean, stoop-shouldered man whose long hair was perfectly white. His gaunt face was bare of beard. It had strange, sloping, sad lines. And he was staring with mild, surprised eyes. The moment held Shefford mute till sight of Fay Larkin's tear-wet face broke the spell. He leaped forward and his strong hands reached for the woman and the man. "Jane Withersteen!... Lassiter!
"Of course," replied Jane. "My horses are all there, except the blooded stock I keep here." "Haven't you heard then?" "Heard? No! What's happened to them?" "They're gone, Miss Withersteen, gone these ten days past. Dorn told me, and I rode down to see for myself." "Lassiter did you know?" asked Jane, whirling to him. "I reckon so.... But what was the use to tell you?"
An' there'll never be a day of their comin' happy lives but what they'll remember Jane Withersteen an' an' Uncle Jim!... I reckon, Jane, we'd better be on our way." The burros obediently wheeled and started down the break with little cautious steps, but Lassiter had to leash the whining dogs and lead them.
She couldn't think it might just be a low plot to come here and shoot you in the back. Jane Withersteen hasn't that kind of a mind.... Well, I've not come for that. I want to help her to pull a bridle along with Judkins and and you. The thing is do you believe me?" "I reckon I do," replied Lassiter. How this slow, cool speech contrasted with Blake's hot, impulsive words!
No other visitor came to Withersteen House during those days. So that in spite of watchfulness he never forgot, Lassiter began to show he felt at home there. After the meal they walked into the grove of cottonwoods or up by the lakes, and little Fay held Lassiter's hand as much as she held Jane's. Thus a strange relationship was established, and Jane liked it.
"Oh... Miss Withersteen!" ejaculated the rider. "I couldn't earn so much in in ten years. It's not right I oughtn't take it." "Judkins, you know I'm a rich woman. I tell you I've few faithful friends. I've fallen upon evil days. God only knows what will become of me and mine! So take the gold." She smiled in understanding of his speechless gratitude, and left him with Lassiter.
"I jest saw about all of it, Miss Withersteen, an' I'll be glad to tell you if you'll only hev patience with me," said Judkins, earnestly. "You see, I've been pecooliarly interested, an' nat'rully I'm some excited. An' I talk a lot thet mebbe ain't necessary, but I can't help thet. "I was at the meetin'-house where Dyer was holdin' court.
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