"You never were so hungry before," said Rhoda. "Still, they were well roasted, now weren't they?" "Your vanity is colossal, Miss Tuttle," laughed John, "but I will admit that I never saw better roasting." Then he said soberly, "I believe we had better not try the trail again today, Rhoda dear. We don't know where to go and we've no supplies. We'd better get our strength up, resting here today, and tomorrow start in good shape." Rhoda looked wistfully from the shade of the pueblo out over the desert. She had become very, very tired of this endless fleeing. "I wish the Newman ranch was just over beyond," she said. "John, what will you do if Kut-le comes on us here?" DeWitt's forehead burned a painful red. "I have a shot left in my revolver," he said. Rhoda walked ever to John and put one hand on his shoulder as he sat looking up at her with somber blue eyes. "John," she said, "I want you to promise me that you will fire at Kut-le only in the last extremity to keep him from carrying me off, and that you will shoot only as Porter did, to lame and not to kill." John's jaws came together and he returned the girl's scrutiny with a steel-like glance. "Why do you plead for him?" he asked finally. "He saved my life," she answered simply. John rose and walked up and down restlessly. "Rhoda, if a white man had done this thing I would shoot him as I would a dog. What do I care for a law in a case like this! We were men long before we had laws. Why should this Indian be let go when he has done what a white would be shot for?" Rhoda looked at him keenly. "You talk as if in your heart you knew you were going to kill him because he is an Indian and were trying to justify yourself for it!" He turned on the girl a look so haunted, so miserable, yet so determined, that her heart sank. For a time there was silence, each afraid to speak. At last Rhoda said coolly: "Will you get fresh water while I bank in the fire?" DeWitt's face relaxed. He smiled a little grimly. "I'll do anything for you but that one thing--promise not to kill the Indian." "The desert has changed us both, John," said Rhoda. "It has taken the veneer off both of us!" "Maybe so," replied DeWitt. "I only know that that Apache must pay for the hell you and I have lived through." "Look at me, John!" cried Rhoda. "Can't you realize that the good Kut-le has done me has been far greater than his affront to me? Do you see how well I am, how strong? Oh, if I could only make you see what a different world I live in! You would have been tied to an invalid, John, if Kut-le hadn't stolen me! Think now of all I can do for you! Of the home I can make, of the work I can do!" DeWitt answered tersely. "I'm mighty glad you're well, but only for your own sake and because I can have you longer. I don't want you to work for me. I'll do all the working that's done in our family!" "But," protested Rhoda, "that's just keeping me lazy and selfish!"