tracks. Of course we've got no direct proof, but----"

"We have," she broke in.

"I can't see it. According to Jim Yeager----"

"Jim lied. I asked him to."

"You--what?"

"I asked him to say that this man had come there to work for him. Jim
was not to blame."

"But--why?"

She threw out a gesture of self-contempt. "Why did I do it? I don't
know. Because he was wounded, I suppose."

"Wounded! Then I did hit him?"

"Yes. In the arm--a flesh wound. I met him riding through the mesquite.
After I had tied up his wound, I took him to Jim's."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "So you tied up his wound?"

"Yes," she answered defiantly, her head up.

"That tender heart of yours," he murmured, with almost a sneer.

"Yes. I'm a fool."