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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

"Russ-ell Archi-bald Sittell," she echoed. "Ranger!
Secret aid to Steele!"
"Yes."
"Then you're no cowboy?"
"No."
"Only a make-believe one?"
"Yes."
"And the drinking, the gambling, the association with those low
men--that was all put on?"
"Part of the game, Sally. I'm not a drinking man. And I sure hate those
places I had to go in, and all that pertains to them."
"Oh, so _that's_ it! I knew there was something. How glad--how glad I
am!" Then Sally threw her arms around my neck, and without reserve or
restraint began to kiss me and love me. It must have been a moment of
sheer gladness to feel that I was not disreputable, a moment when
something deep and womanly in her was vindicated. Assuredly she was
entirely different from what she had ever been before.
There was a little space of time, a sweet confusion of senses, when I
could not but meet her half-way in tenderness. Quite as suddenly, then
she began to cry. I whispered in her ear, cautioning her to be careful,
that my life was at stake; and after that she cried silently, with one
of her arms round my neck, her head on my breast, and her hand clasping
mine. So I held her for what seemed a long time.


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