Rhoda shivered a little. 

 "If I once get away, Kut-le never will catch me alive!" 

 Molly chuckled indulgently. 

 "How you run? No sabe how eat, how drink, how find the trail! Better stay with Molly." 

 "I would wait till I thought we were near a town. Won't you help me? Dear, kind Molly, won't you help me?" 

 "Kut-le kill Molly with cactus torture!" 

 "But you go with me!"  The sobs ceased and Rhoda sat back on her blankets as the idea developed.  "You go with me and I'll make you—" 

 Neither noticed the soft thud of moccasined feet. Suddenly Alchise seized Molly's black hair and with a violent jerk pulled the woman backward. Rhoda forgot her stiffened muscles, forgot her gentle ancestry. She sprang at Alchise with catlike fury and struck his fingers from Molly's hair. 

 "You fiend! I wish I could shoot you!" she panted, her fingers twitching. 

 Alchise retreated a step. 

 "She try help 'em run!" he said sullenly. 

 "She was not! And no matter if she was! Don't you touch a woman before me!" 

 A swift shadow crossed the camp and Alchise was hurled six feet away. 

 "What's the matter!" cried Kut-le.  "Has he laid finger on you, Rhoda?" He strode to her side and looked down at her with eyes in which struggled anger and anxiety. 

 "No!" blazed Rhoda.  "But he pulled Molly over backward by her hair!" 

 "Oh!" in evident relief.  "And what was Molly doing?" 

 "She maybe help 'em run," said Alchise, coming forward. 

 The relief in Kut-le's voice increased Rhoda's anger. 

 "No such thing! She was persuading me not to go! Kut-le, you give Alchise orders not to touch Molly again. I won't have it!" 

 Prev. P 52/172 next