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He found that if he was tired enough at night, he went to sleep simply because he was too exhausted to stay awake.
She had reached a point at which she didn't even care how she looked.
He stood looking down at her for a moment, wondering what could have reduced her to this condition.
He dismissed the possibility at once.
She stared at him, her eyes wide as she thought about what he had said ; ;
She sat down at the table, shaking her head.
The grateful way she looked at Morgan made him ashamed of himself.
He nodded at the door in front of him.
He wiped his lips with a sleeve, then stared at Clayton in a childish kind of wonder.
they rode at a measured pace through the valley.
Dawn would come soon and the night was at its coldest.
Then at last the darkness began to dissolve.
First he thought of the time he had ridden to Gavin and told him how his cattle were being rustled at the far end of the valley.
He wouldn't even dance with her at Gavin's party.
There are plenty of fresh horses halfway at my place.
They mounted up and rode slowly behind the others at a safe distance.
He looked over his shoulder at the thin dotting of pursuers.
And he was fleeing, running -- fleeing his death and his life at the same time.
But it at least offered him a chance for living.
She clung to him, talking to him, and dabbing at her eyes.
Then he was on his way at a gallop.
The guerrillas were swarming from their bivouac at the west end of the enclosure.
He scuttled in shadow along the east wall of the stockade and then followed the south wall until he was at the rear of the two frame buildings.
All were carrying guns they had seized up, but they were half-clad or hardly clad at all.
Beyond the stockade rifles began to explode as some of the guerrillas fired at shadows that they imagined were Apaches.

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