And presently, with a blaze in her eyes that showed how her soul was aflame with righteous wrath at these rustlers and ruffians, and how, whether she knew it or not, the woman in her loved a fight, she bade me go on.

So I persevered, and, with poor little Sally sagging against me, I went on with the details of that fight.
I told how Steele rebounded from his weakness and could no more have been stopped than an avalanche.

For all I saw, he did not use his guns again.

Here, there, everywhere, as Morton and his squad cornered a rustler, Steele would go in, ordering surrender, promising protection.
He seemed to have no thoughts of bullets.

I could not hold him back, and it was hard to keep pace with him.