Page:Frank Spearman--Whispering Smith.djvu/407

 cried, wringing her hands. “There is no way to give warning to any one that he is coming, and you have let him go!”

Lance whirled in his chair. “Damnation! Could I keep him from going?”

“You did not want to; you are keeping out of trouble. What do you care whom he kills to-night!”

“You’ve gone crazy, Dicksie. Your imagination has upset your reason. Whether he kills anybody to-night or not, it’s too late now to make a row about it,” exclaimed Lance, throwing his cigar angrily away. “He won’t kill us.”

“And you expect me to sit by and fold my hands while that wretch sheds more blood, do you?”

“It can’t be helped.”

“I say it can be helped! I can help it—I will help it—as you could have done if you had wanted to. I will ride to Medicine Bend to-night and help it.”

Lance jumped to his feet, with a string of oaths. “Well this is the limit!” He pointed his finger at her. “Dicksie Dunning, you won’t stir out of this house to-night.”

Her face hardened. “How dare you speak in that way to me? Who are you, that you order me 381