"Go ahead an' rest. I'll take your
horses to grass."
Euchre left Duane alone In the
house. Duane relaxed then, and me
chanically he wiped the sweat from
his face. He was laboring under some
kind of a spell or shock which did not
pass off quickly. When it had worn
away he took off his coat and belt and
made himself comfortable on the blan
kets. And he had a thought that, if
he rested or slept, what difference
would It make on the morrow? No
rest, no sleep could change the gray
outlook of the future, felt glad
when Euchre came bustling in, and for
the first time be took notice of the out
law.
Euchre was old In years. What
little hair he had was gray, his face
clean shaven and full of wrinkles his
eyes were half shut from long gazing
through the sun and dust, stooped.
But his thin face denoted strength
and endurance still unimpaired.
"nev a drink or a smoke?" he asked.
Duane shook his head. lie had not
been unfamiliar with -whisky, and he
had used tobacco moderately since he
was sixteen. But now, strangely, he
felt disgust at the idea of stimulants,
ne did not understand clearly what he
felt. There was that vague Idea of i
something wild In his blood, something
that made him fear himself.
Euehre wagged his old head sympa
thetically. "Reckon you feel a little
sick. When it comes to shootin', I run.
