"
"Shooting at his legs! No wonder he ran. He savvied your game all right.
It's funny, Vaughn, how these rustlers and gunmen don't mind being
killed. But to cripple them, rope them, jail them--that's hell to them!
Well, I'm to go on, up at the ranch, falling further in love with that
sweet kid instead of coming out straight to face things with you?"
Steele had to laugh, yet he was more thoughtful of my insistence.
"Russ, you think you have patience, but you don't know what patience is.
I won't be hurried on this job. But I'll tell you what: I'll hang under
cover most of the time when you're not close to me. See? That can be
managed. I'll watch for you when you come in town. We'll go in the same
places. And in case I get busy you can stand by and trail along after
me. That satisfy you?"
"Fine!" I said, both delighted and relieved. "Well, I'll have to rustle
back now to tell Miss Sampson you're all right."
Steele had about finished pulling on a clean shirt, exercising care not
to disarrange the bandages; and he stopped short to turn squarely and
look at me with hungry eyes.
"Russ, did she--show sympathy?"
"She was all broken up about it. Thought you were going to die.
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