SON OF THE WIND
strength that might be even beyond a man's power of direction. Had Carron admitted such a thing possible? No, he hadn't admitted, but the idea had caught him before he had foreseen it. There it was. Could a man mount and bridle the wind? A strange little thought touched him. Was he to die? He had never had such a thought in all his life. To die? Was that what Blanche had meant when she had said "You can't." Then of course he could not go back to her. That would be strange! There had never been a moment when he had not expected to go back to her. His brain had not been able to take in the idea of an end to what was between them, not even when she had screamed those wild things after him, not even when he had hated her. But to die! That was an end he could understand. He had seen other men die, backs or necks broken. He looked hard at the thought of himself in such case and found it didn't trouble him. It was a ghost beside the shining face of danger.
There was no difference in the casting of a lasso for the least of horses, or the greatest. The rope sang just so, like a long snake through the dust. The ankle it caught was as small as a woman's, but the body leaping and falling was a thing to remember. The sight stopped the breath with admiration. Both ropes, one from either side of the corral,
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