you'll take care of her."

"I'll do it-- if I have to fight-- and kill!"

Billy had withdrawn his hand, and both were clenched. Into Deane's
eyes there leaped a sudden flash of fire.

"That's what I did," he breathed, gripping his fingers hard. "I
killed-- for her. He was a skunk-- and a scoundrel-- too. And you'd
have done it!" He looked at Billy again. "I'm glad you said what you
did-- when I was in the box," he added. "If she wasn't as pure and as
sweet as the stars I'd feel different. But it's just sort of in my
bones that you'll treat her like a brother. I haven't had faith in
many men. I've got it in you."

Billy leaned low over the other. His face was flushed, and his voice
trembled.

"God bless you for that, Scottie!" he said.

A sound from the forest turned both men's eyes.

"She took the dogs and went out there a little way for a load of
wood," said Deane. "She's coming back."

Billy had leaped to his feet, and turned his face toward the ridge.
He, too, had heard a sound-- another sound, and from another
direction. He laughed grimly as he turned to Deane.

"And they're coming, too, Scottie," he replied. "They're climbing the