The room got blue with smoke till you couldn't see, and then
the fight changed to the street.
"Steele and I ran out. There was shooting everywhere. Morton's crowd
appeared to be in pursuit of rustlers in all directions. I ran with
Steele, and did not observe his condition until suddenly he fell right
down in the street. Then he looked so white and so bloody I thought he'd
stopped another bullet and--"
Here Miss Sampson's agitation made it necessary for me to halt my story,
and I hoped she had heard enough. But she was not sick, as Sally
appeared to me; she simply had been overcome by emotion. And presently,
with a blaze in her eyes that showed how her soul was aflame with
righteous wrath at these rustlers and ruffians, and how, whether she
knew it or not, the woman in her loved a fight, she bade me go on. So I
persevered, and, with poor little Sally sagging against me, I went on
with the details of that fight.
I told how Steele rebounded from his weakness and could no more have
been stopped than an avalanche. For all I saw, he did not use his guns
again. Here, there, everywhere, as Morton and his squad cornered a
rustler, Steele would go in, ordering surrender, promising protection.
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