spoke the phrase by which outlaws were known to each other. He was forcing his eyes to meet hers.
He said slowly: "I am going on a long journey. Perhaps I will come back. If I am able to, I shall."
He dropped his hand from hers and she remained silent, guessing at many things, and deeply moved, for every woman knows when a man speaks from his soul.
"You will not forget me?"
"I shall never forget you," she answered quietly. "Good-bye, Mr. Lee!"
Her hand touched his again, she wheeled, and rode away. He remained standing with the hand she had grasped still raised. And after a moment, as he had hoped, she turned in the saddle and waved to him. His eyes were downward and he was smiling faintly when he re-entered the saloon.
Silent sat at a table with his chin propped in his hand—his left hand, of course, for that restless right hand must always be free. He stared across the room towards Whistling Dan. The train of thoughts which kept those ominous eyes so unmoving must be broken. He sat down at the side of his chief.
"What the hell?" said the big man, "ain't you started yet?"
