"
"Reckon few people in Linrock realize just what _did_ come off," I
replied with a grim chuckle.
"Russ, I want you to tell me," said Miss Sampson earnestly.
"What?" I queried sharply.
"About yesterday--what Steele did--what happened."
"Miss Sampson, I could tell you in a few short statements of fact or I
could take two hours in the telling. Which do you prefer?"
"I prefer the long telling. I want to know all about him."
"But why, Miss Sampson? Consider. This is hardly a story for a
sensitive woman's ears."
"I am no coward," she replied, turning eyes to me that flashed like dark
fire.
"But why?" I persisted. I wanted a good reason for calling up all the
details of the most strenuous and terrible day in my border experience.
She was silent a moment. I saw her gaze turn to the spot where Steele
lay asleep, and it was a pity he could not see her eyes then. "Frankly,
I don't want to tell you," I added, and I surely would have been glad to
get out of the job.
"I want to hear--because I glory in his work," she replied deliberately.
I gathered as much from the expression of her face as from the deep ring
of her voice, the clear content of her statement. She loved the Ranger,
but that was not all of her reason.
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