and that is that Faulkner was killed early in the fight, and the other
man was wounded in the ankle near the finish."

He shook his head obstinately. "No, I reckon not."

"Yet it is true. What's more, you knew it all the time."

"You ce'tainly jump to conclusions, Miss Arlie."

"And you let them arrest you, without telling them the truth! And they
came near lynching you! And there's a warrant out now for your arrest
for the murder of Faulkner, while all the time I killed him, and you
knew it!"

He gathered together his lame defense. "You run ahaid too fast for me,
ma'am. Supposing he was hit while we were all there together, how was
I to know who did it?"

"You knew it couldn't have been you, for he wasn't struck with a
revolver. It couldn't have been dad, since he had his shotgun loaded
with buckshot."

"What difference did it make?" he wanted to know impatiently. "Say I'd
have explained till kingdom come that I borrowed the rifle from a
friend five minutes after Faulkner was hit-- would anybody have
believed me? Would it have made a bit of difference?"

Her shining eyes were more eloquent than a thousand tongues. "I don't
say it would, but there was always the chance. You didn't take it. You
would have let them hang you, without speaking the word that brought