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"
What
would
you
do
for
him
?
"
asked
the
mustanger
,
placing
a
significant
emphasis
on
the
final
word
.
"
I
should
love
him
,
"
was
the
prompt
reply
.
"
Then
,
"
said
Maurice
,
spurring
his
horse
close
up
to
the
side
of
the
spotted
mustang
,
and
whispering
into
the
ear
of
its
rider
,
with
an
earnestness
strangely
contrasting
to
his
late
reticence
,
"
I
would
give
half
my
life
to
see
you
in
the
hands
of
Wild
Cat
and
his
drunken
comrades
--
the
other
half
to
deliver
you
from
the
danger
.
"
"
Do
you
mean
this
,
Maurice
Gerald
?
Do
not
trifle
with
me
:
I
am
not
a
child
.
Speak
the
truth
!
Do
you
mean
it
?
"
"
I
do
!
As
heaven
is
above
me
,
I
do
!
"
The
sweetest
kiss
I
ever
had
in
my
life
,
was
when
a
woman
--
a
fair
creature
,
in
the
hunting
field
--
leant
over
in
her
saddle
and
kissed
me
as
I
sate
in
mine
The
fondest
embrace
ever
received
by
Maurice
Gerald
,
was
that
given
by
Louise
Poindexter
;
when
,
standing
up
in
her
stirrup
,
and
laying
her
hand
upon
his
shoulder
,
she
cried
in
an
agony
of
earnest
passion
--
"
Do
with
me
as
thou
wilt
:
I
love
you
,
I
love
you
!
"
Ever
since
Texas
became
the
scene
of
an
Anglo-Saxon
immigration
--
I
might
go
a
century
farther
back
and
say
,
from
the
time
of
its
colonisation
by
the
descendants
of
the
Conquistadores
--
the
subject
of
primary
importance
has
been
the
disposition
of
its
aborigines
.
Whether
these
,
the
lawful
lords
of
the
soil
,
chanced
to
be
in
a
state
of
open
war
--
or
whether
,
by
some
treaty
with
the
settlers
they
were
consenting
to
a
temporary
peace
--
made
but
slight
difference
,
so
far
as
they
were
talked
about
.
In
either
case
they
were
a
topic
of
daily
discourse
.
In
the
former
it
related
to
the
dangers
to
be
hourly
apprehended
from
them
;
in
the
latter
,
to
the
probable
duration
of
such
treaty
as
might
for
the
moment
be
binding
them
to
hold
their
tomahawks
entombed
.
