If that's all that bothers you, close your eyes and let me lead you out of this mess." He hunted about for some other way to draw her out.

After all, it was an old, old game.

He had played it before many a time; though the setting and the lights had been different the play was always the same--a man, and a woman.
She was explaining: "And it is a mess.

Maybe you could get out after droppin' Calamity, because it was partly self-defence, but there ain't nothin' between here and God that can get you off from liftin' a hoss.
No, sir, not even returning the hoss won't do no good.

I know! The only thing is speed--and a thousand miles east of here you can stop ridin'." He found the thing to say, and he made his voice earnest and low to give the words wing and sharpness; it was like the hum of the bow string after the arrow is launched, so tense was the tremor of his tone.
"There are two reasons why I can't leave.