glazed over with their old defensive aloofness. Their cold stare seared like needles of liquefied air.
"Me? Why, I 'm going to run my sheep; that's all." Zang's face suddenly went red; he took a swift step toward the girl.
"No, you 're not, girl," came his hot words. "You 're not goin' to stand up against a cyclone alone—not when I 've got every claim on you a man can have." Hilma's lips were parted in a slow, teasing smile; her eyes mocked.
"They call me an outlaw," Zang's words tumbled on tumultuously. "Well, you 're an outlaw at heart, an' fit to team up with another of the same brand. You 're comin' with me over to the Spout so 's we can see through together all the hell that busts loose an'"
Zang leaped lightly as a mountain cat and threw an arm about Hilma's waist. His free hand he slipped under her chin to force her head, with its glory of dandelion gold, back for the kiss his lips flamed to give. The eyes that blazed so close to his were wild as a trapped panther's. Full lips so near his parted over sharp teeth in almost an animal snarl.
Hilma did not scream. She merely slashed
