Neith Boyce

“ String up one man, and it'll do more good than ten years' talking."
The woman shrank away from him as he spoke, and her eyes glowed in the darkness of the cabin like a wild-cat's.
"Lord, how they hate me! I've seen that look more'n once in the last month! You'd be glad enough to stick a knife in me if you could—wouldn't you, my dear? But now, see here, señora, I can't take your word for that man of yours, much as I hate to disoblige a pretty woman like yourself. But if it turns out that he's gone to town for flour and not across country with my beef, why so much the better for him. ”

“ The horse's flaring eyes and nervous trembling bespoke fear and pain; and a less ignorant or indifferent horseman would have seen that the heavy saddle had been placed too far forward and galled at every step.
"Look alive, there!" cried the man for the third time, with an angry oath. Out of pure ill-humor he shook his whip at the staring child, which thereupon screamed shrilly.
A woman came to the door of the cabin. She was a Mexican, young and pretty. A black shawl had been hastily twisted about her head and shoulders. ”

“ But the man, bending forward to look up the river, had caught sight of something lying on the edge of the plot of cultivated ground behind the cabin. He struck the spurs into his horse and sprang past the woman. "Look there!" he cried, pointing the handle of his whip at the hide and horns of a newly-killed steer. ”