"I mean that she's not at the Burnhams'; I mean that he either does or
does not know WHERE she is, and that in either case he is not likely to
give you information. But I can."

"You can?"

"Yes."

"Then, where is she?"

"In the Carquinez Woods, in the arms of the man you were just
defending--Low, the half-breed."

The room had become so dark that from the road nothing could be
distinguished. Only the momentary sound of struggling feet was heard.

"Sit down," said Brace's voice, "and don't be a fool. You're too weak,
and it ain't a fair fight. Let go your hold. I'm not lying--I wish to
God I was!"

There was silence, and Brace resumed, "We've been rivals, I know. May be
I thought my chance as good as yours. If what I say ain't truth, we'll
stand as we stood before; and if you're on the shoot, I'm your man when
you like, where you like, or on sight if you choose. But I can't bear to
see another man played upon as I've been played upon--given dead away as
I've been. It ain't on the square.

"There," he continued, after a pause, "that's right, now steady. Listen.
A week ago that girl went down just like this to Indian Spring. It
was given out, like this, that she went to the Burnhams'. I don't mind