Startled as he was by that sudden apparition
appearing before them in the dark road, and at being addressed by a
woman's voice, the mention of the name Cassady gave him an instant
clue. There was but one Cassady in camp, and that individual's
reputation was scarcely of a kind to recommend him in the eyes of the
law. If any woman sought that fellow in this out-of-the-way spot, it
was surely for no good purpose. Brennan caught his breath, these
thoughts flashing through his brain. He leaned forward over his saddle
horn, lowering his voice confidentially, and managing to achieve a
highly meritorious brogue.
"Sure, Oi'm Cassady," he admitted grouchily. "How iver come yer ter
guess thot?"
"I was sent here to meet you," she explained hurriedly, as though eager
to have her task done. "I thought maybe it wasn't you, with another
man along. Who is he?"
"His noime's Crowley; just a friend o' moine; mebbe yer know the lad?"
"No; certainly not. Does he go along with you?"
"Fer only a bit o' ther way"; he lowered his voice to even greater
intimacy.
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