’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. And you shall have a share of the gold for yourself. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Mrs. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup.
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