ing; a tenuous dream
too sweet to come true, he told himself; a dream which he never dared to
dream until the cool stars, and the little night wind began to whisper
to him that Marian was free from the brute that had owned her. He
scarcely dared think of it yet. Shyly he remembered how he had held
her hand to give her courage while they rode in darkness; her poor
work-roughened little hand, that had been old when he took it first,
and had warmed in his clasp. He remembered how he had pressed her hands
together when they parted--why, surely it was longer ago than last
night!--and had kissed them reverently as he would kiss the fingers of a
queen.

"Hell's too good for Lew Morris," he blurted unexpectedly, the thought
of Marian's bruised cheek coming like a blow.

"Want to go and tell him so? If you don't yuh better shut up," Eddie
whispered fierce warning. "You needn't think all the Catrockers are dead
or in jail. They's a few left and they'd kill yuh quicker'n they'd take
a drink."

Bud, embarrassed at the emotion behind his statement, rather than
ashamed of the remark itself, made no reply.

Much as Eddie desired silence, he himself pulled up and spoke again when
Bud had ridden close.

"I guess you come through the Gap," he whispered. "They's a shorter way
than that--Sis don't know it. It's one the bunch uses a lot--if they
catch us--I can save my hide by makin' out I led you into a trap. You'll
get yours, anyway. How much sand you got?"

Bud leaned and spat into the darkness. "Not much. Maybe enough to get
through this scary short-cut of yours."

"You tell the truth when you say scary. It's so darn crazy to go down
Catrock Canyon maybe they won't think we'd tackle it. And if they catch
us, I'll say I led yuh in--and then--say, I'm kinda bettin' on your
luck. The way you cleaned up on them horses, maybe luck'll stay with
you. And I'll help all I can, honest."

"Fine." Bud reached over and closed his fingers around Eddie's thin,
boyish arm. "You didn't tell me yet why the other trail isn't good
enough."

"I heard a sound in the Gap tunnel, that's why. You maybe didn't
know what it was. I know them echoes to a fare-ye-well. Somebody's
there--likely posted waiting." He was motionless for a space, listening.

"Get off-easy. Take off your spurs." Eddie was down, whispering eagerly
to Bud. "There's a draft of air from the blow-holes that comes this way.
Sound comes outa there a lot easier than it goes in. Sis an