Yet she remembered now that it had been while she was telling of the
fate of the traitor Burke that she had driven him to his lie. Or had
he not told it first when she pointed out Lost Valley at his feet?
Yes, it was at that moment she had noticed his pallor. He had, at
least, conscience enough to be ashamed of what he was doing. But she
recognized a wide margin of difference between the possibilities of
his guilt. It was one thing to come to the valley for an escaped
murderer; it was quite another to use the hospitality of his host as a
means to betray the friends of that host. Deep in her heart she could
not find it possible to convict him of the latter alternative. He was
too much a man, too vitally dynamic. No; whatever else he was, she
felt sure he was not so hopelessly lost to decency. He had that
electric spark of self-respect which may coexist with many faults, but
not with treachery.

CHAPTER IX

A SHOT FROM BALD KNOB

A bunch of young steers which had strayed from their range were to be
driven to the Dillon ranch, and the boss of the rodeo appointed France
and Fraser to the task.

"Yo'll have company home, honey," he told his daughter, "and yo'll be
able to give the boys a hand if they need it. These hill cattle are
still some wild, though we've been working them a week. Yo're a heap
better cowboy than some that works more steady at the business."

Briscoe nodded. "You bet! I ain't forgot that day Arlie rode Big