. . . And God help me to succeed. God forgive me if I fail!"
She stole by him and stepped upon the outer ledge. She was leaving him
helpless . . . the thought presented itself that she would have another
thing to answer for if one of the many men with such cause to hate him
should come upon him thus. Well, that was but one of the more remote
chances she must take. There was scant enough likelihood that any one
should come here before she could race into Las Estrellas and back.
Then it was that she saw Patten. She did not know at first that it was
Patten, but just that within a few feet of her upon the ledge which she
must travel to the steps a man was standing, his body jerking back,
pressed against the rocks as he saw her. She drew back swiftly, her
blood in riotous tumult.
But now, above aught else, the one thought in her mind was that there
was no time for loitering, that the dawn would come all too soon, that
there must be no delay. She stooped quickly and drew from its holster
Norton's heavy revolver. Her saddle-blanket over her left arm, the gun
gripped in her right hand, she was once more upon the ledge, moving
cautiously toward the figure seen a moment ago, gone now.
That it was Patten she knew only when she had gone down the steps and
had overtaken him there.
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