palms together, and looked at the other man. Harlson spoke bluntly.

"Yes, I know you want to try it again. But, as I feel now, it could
only end one way. I don't mind. I only wanted to loose you before I
say what I wanted to say, so that you wouldn't think I was making terms
on my own account."

"Go on," said Woodell, gruffly, still stretching his arms.

"Well, it is just this. I don't think I've been doing the right thing.
I am going to leave Jenny Bierce to you. She will not care much, and
it will be all right in a little time. That is all. No, not quite!
You tried to kill me. Maybe I would have been as big a fool, just such
a crazy, jealous man as you, if things had been the other way. I don't
know. But I do know this, that your coming here to-night, except that
it has made me think, has nothing to do with what I have made up my
mind to. Here we are in the road. I don't want to sleep uneasily in
the barn. You tried to kill me. I have tried to decide on what is
right, and I will do it. Now, I want it settled with you. Here I am!
Do you want to fight?"

Woodell's face had been something worth seeing while Harlson was
speaking. He had followed the words of his late antagonist closely.
He grasped in a general way the intent expressed. There was a radiance
on his rough features.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. What should I say it for if I didn't?"