A minute later they were mounting the horses that Owen had brought, and
shortly afterward they were moving like shadows away from the outskirts
of Okar.
Not until they were well out in the big basin did either of them speak.
And then Sanderson said, shortly:
"Silverthorn was tellin' me you gassed everything. Are you feelin'
better over it?"
Owen's head bent over his horse's mane; his chin was on his chest when
he answered:
"Come and kill me."
"Hell!" exploded Sanderson, disgustedly. "If there was anything comin'
to you killin' would be too good for you. You ain't done anything to
me, you sufferin' fool--not a thing! What you've done you've done to
Mary Bransford. When you see Dale an' Silverthorn grabbin' the Double
A, an' Mary Bransford ridin' away, homeless--you'll have feelin's of
remorse, mebbe--if you've got any man in you at all!"
Owen writhed and groaned.
"It was the whisky--the cursed whisky!" he whispered. "I can't let it
alone--I love it! And once I get a taste of it, I'm gone---I'm a
stark, staring lunatic!"
"I'd swear to that," grimly agreed Sanderson.
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