"That's too bad," Calvin replied evenly. "Lawlessness ought to be put
down." He had known Solon Entreken all his life. The level gaze of two
men encountered and held.

Then: "I'll never say anything against that," the other pronounced.
"It's mighty strange who could have shot Eckles and got clear away.
That's what he did, in spite of hell and the sheriff."

Turning, after inevitable exclamations, toward home, Calvin found Lucy
sitting moodily on the porch.

"I've got a right ugly piece of news," he told her, masking the painful
interest with which he followed her expression. "Martin Eckles was
killed yesterday; shot out of the buggy."

She grew pale, her breast rose in a sudden gasp and her hands were
clenched.

"Oh!" she whispered, horrified.

But there was nothing in her manner beyond the natural detestation of
such brutality; nothing, he saw, hidden.

"He wanted me to go away with him," she swept on; "and get married in
Stanwick. Martin wanted me to see the world. He said I ought to, and
not stay here all my life."

The misery that settled over her, the hopelessness dulling her youth
filled him with a passionate resentment at the fate that made her what
she was and seemingly condemned her to eternal denial. His love for