sharply.

"Which man do you mean, Mrs. Hull?" asked the lawyer.

"The big brown man sittin' at the end of the front bench, the one right
behind you."

Kirby rose. "Think prob'ly she means me," he suggested.

An officer in uniform passed down the aisle and laid a hand on the
cattleman's shoulder. "You're under arrest," he said.

"For what, officer?" asked James Cunningham.

"For the murder of your uncle, sir."

In the tense silence that followed rose a little throat sound that was
not quite a sob and not quite a wail. Kirby turned his head toward the
back of the room.

Wild Rose was standing in her place looking at him with dilated eyes
filled with incredulity and horror.




CHAPTER XIII

"ALWAYS, PHYLLIS"