him. They had paid their last tribute, and wished to forget. He must
settle his own account with the hereafter now; they had enough in their
own lives without the burden of his.

Then there had swept up into the girl's face one gleam of life that made
her beautiful for the instant, and she had bowed to them with a slow,
almost haughty, inclination of her head, and spread out her hands like one
who would like to bless but dared not, and said clearly, "I thank
you--all!" There had been just a slight hesitation before that last word
"all," as if she were not quite sure, as her eyes rested upon the
ringleader with doubt and dislike; then her lips had hardened as if
justice must be done, and she had spoken it, "all!" and, turning, sped
away to her cabin alone.

They were taken by surprise, those men who feared nothing in the wild and
primitive West, and for a moment they watched her go in silence. Then the
words that broke upon the air were not all pleasant to hear; and, if the
girl could have known, she would have sped far faster, and her cheeks
would have burned a brighter red than they did.

But one, the boldest, the ringleader, said nothing. His brows darkened,
and the wicked gleam came and sat in his hard eyes with a green light. He
drew a little apart from the rest, and walked on more rapidly. When he
came to the place where they had left their horses, he took his and went
on toward the cabin with a look that did not invite the others to follow.
As their voices died away in the distance, and he drew nearer to the
cabin, his eyes gleamed with cunning.

The girl in the cabin worked rapidly. One by one she took the boxes on
which the rude coffin of her brother had rested, and threw them far out