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 horses. Before they mounted Hilma drew him a little aside.

"You must turn back here, Zang; if you ride into Two Moons it means jail, a court trial, penitentiary—the end of everything for you. Please turn back here."

The big outlaw's tired eyes kindled under her gaze. Hard lines of determination etched themselves across his features. His old devil-may-care smile parted his lips. "So you 're still aimin' to tie loose from me? Well, ma'am, that's not an easy thing to do when Zang Whistler's mind's made up to stick. He builds right 'longside you until that time when the preacher says: 'Do you take this pore sinner for better 'n' worse?' "

Hilma looked out to the carnelian and ruby east where a nest of clouds over the Black Hills had engulfed the sun. She was battling with an impulse to tell this man he was twenty times a fool to run his neck into a noose for her sake. The fleeting tenderness of the night before had sped with the coming of the day; Hilma was her old sure, hard self. There was no place in her heart for Zang Whistler or any man; yet a saving grace of pity for one who could be so devoted persisted.