understand? You've done me and her a heap o' good; she's almost another
woman sens you took hold of her, and ef you ever want me to stand up
and 'testify,' as you call it, in church, Sandy McGee is ready. What
I'm tryin' to say to ye is this. Tho' I understand you and your work and
your ways--there's other folks ez moutn't--you follow? You understand
what I mean? And it's just that I'm coming to. Now las' night, when you
and Safie was meanderin' along the lower path by the water, and I kem
across you"--

"But," interrupted Madison quickly, "you're mistaken. I wasn't"--

"Hol' on," said McGee, quietly; "I know you got out o' the way without
you seein' me or me you, because you didn't know it was me, don't you
see? don't you follow? and that's just it! It mout have bin some one
from the Bar as seed you instead o' ME. See? That's why you lit out
before I could recognize you, and that's why poor Safie was so mighty
flustered at first and was for runnin' away until she kem to herself
agin. When, of course, she laughed, and agreed you must have mistook
me."

"But," gasped Madison quickly, "I WASN'T THERE AT ALL LAST NIGHT."

"What?"

The two men had risen simultaneously and were facing each other. McGee,
with a good-natured, half-critical expression, laid his hand on Wayne's
shoulder and slightly turned him towards the window, that he might see
his face. It seemed to him white and dazed.

"You--wasn't there--last night?" he repeated, with a slow tolerance.