(Jim's epistle was nearly innocent of punctuation, his words ran on almost unbroken and gave the reader some trouble in following.)

Your letter to a certain young person has come and been destroyed owing to my thinking under the present circ.u.mstances, some folks what don't know about you, better not hear now. I took the letter to Lone Dome as you set down for me to do meaning to give it to Nella-Rose like what you said, but she wasn't there. Pete was there and Marg--she's Nella-Rose's sister, and getting ready to marry that torn-down scamp Jed Martin which to my way of thinking is about the best punishment what could be dealt out to him. Pete was right sober for him and spruced up owing to facts I am now coming to and when Pete's sober there ain't a more sensible cuss than what he is nor a gentlemaner. Well, I asked natural like for Nella-Rose and Marg scrooged up her mouth, knowing full well as how I knew Jed was second choice for her--but Pete he done tell me that Nella-Rose had married Burke Lawson and run to safer parts and when I got over the shock I was certainly thankful for being a sheriff ain't all it might be when your ideas of justice and liking gets crossed. I didn't ask any more questions. Peter was sober--he only lies when he's drunk and not having any wish to rouse Marg I just come away and burned the letter what you sent. But I've done some thinking on my own 'count since your letter came and I reckon I've studied the thing clear on circ.u.mstantial evidence which is what I mostly have to go on in the sticks. I certainly done you a black insult that day I came upon you and Nella-Rose. I didn't let on, and I never will, about her being to my place, but no wonder the poor child was terrible upset when I came in. She had come to me, so I study out, and found you--stark stranger! How you ever soothed the poor little thing I don't know--her being wild as a flea--but on top of that, in I slam and lit out on you both and 'corse she couldn't 'splain about Burke before you and that's plain enough what she had come to do, and I didn't leave either one of you a leg to stand on. I've been pretty low in my spirits I can tell you and I beg your pardon humble, young feller, and if ever I can do Nella-Rose a turn by letting Burke free, no matter what he does--I will! But 'tain't likely he'll act up for some time. Nella-Rose always could tame him and he's been close on her trail ever since she was a toddler. I'm right glad they took things in their own hands and left. She didn't sense the right black meaning I had in my heart that day when she ran--but you did and I sure am ashamed of the part I done played.

If you can overlook what no man has a call to overlook in another--your welcome is red hot here for you at any time.

JIM WHITE

Sheriff.

Truedale read and reread this amazing production until he began to feel his way through the tangle of words and catch a meaning--false, ridiculously false of course, but none the less designed as an explanation and excuse. Then the non-essentials dropped away and one bald fact remained! Truedale sank back in his chair, turned off the electric light, and closed his eyes.

"Tired, old man?" Kendall asked from across the hearth.

"Yes. Dead tired."

"You'll travel easier when you get the gait."

"Undoubtedly."

"Take a bit of a nap," Lynda suggested.

"Thanks, Lyn, I will." Then Truedale, safe from intrusion, tried to make his way out of the maze into which he had been thrown. Slowly he recovered from the effect of the staggering blow and presently got to the point where he felt it was all a cruel lie or a stupid jest. There he paused. Jim was not the kind to lie or joke about such a thing. It was a mistake--surely a mistake. He would go at once to Pine Cone and make everything right. Nella-Rose could not act alone. Tradition, training, conspired to unfit her for this crisis; but that she had gone from his love and faith into the arms of another man was incredible. No; she was safe, probably in hiding; she would write him. She had the address--she was keen and quick, even though she was helpless to cope with the lawlessness of her mountain environment. Truedale saw the necessity of caution, not for himself, but for Nella-Rose. He could not go, unaided, to search for her. Evidently there had been wild doings after he left; no one but White and Nella-Rose knew of his actual existence--he must utilize White in a.s.sisting him, but above all he must expect that Nella-Rose would make her whereabouts known. Never for a moment did he doubt her or put any credence in the conclusions White had drawn. How little Jim really knew! By to-morrow word would come from Nella-Rose; somehow she would manage, once she was safe from being followed, to get to the station and telegraph. But there could be no leaving the girl in the hills after this; he must, as soon as he located her, bring her away; bring her into his life--to his home and hers!

A cold sweat broke out on Truedale's body as he lashed himself unmercifully in the still room where his two friends, one believing him asleep, waited for his awakening.

Well, he was awake at last, thank G.o.d! The only difference between him and a creature such as good men and women abhor was that he meant to retrieve, as far as in him lay, the past error and injustice. All his future life should prove his purpose. And then, like a sweet fragrance or a spirit touch, his love pleaded for him. He had been weak, but not vicious. The unfettered life had clouded his reason, and his senses had played him false, but love was untarnished--and it _was_ love. That girl of the hills was the same now as she had always been. She would accept him and his people and he would make her life such that, once the homesickness for the hills was past, she would have no regrets.

Then another phase held Truedale's thought. In that day when Nella-Rose accepted, in the fullest sense, his people and his people's code--how would he stand in her eyes? A groan escaped him, then another, and he started nervously.

"Con, what is it--a bad dream?" Lynda touched his arm to arouse him.

"Yes--a mighty bad one!"

"Tell it to me. Tell it while it is fresh in your mind. They say once you have put a dream in words, its effect is killed forever."

Truedale turned dark, sorrowful eyes upon Lynda.

"I--I wish I could tell it," he said with a seriousness that made her laugh, "but it was the kind that eludes--words. The creeping, eating impression--sort of nightmare. Good Lord! how nerves play the deuce with you."

Brace Kendall did not speak. From his place he had been watching Truedale, for the firelight had betrayed the truth. Truedale had not been sleeping: Truedale had been terribly upset by that last letter of his!

And just then Conning leaned forward and threw his entire mail upon the blazing logs!

CHAPTER XI

For Truedale to await, calmly, further developments was out of the question. He did, however, force himself to act as sanely as possible.

He felt confident that Nella-Rose, safely hidden and probably enjoying it in her own elfish way, would communicate with him in a few days at the latest, now that things had, according to White, somewhat settled into shape after the outlaw Lawson had taken himself off the scene.

To get to the station and telegraph would mean quite a feat for Nella-Rose at any time, and winter was in all likelihood already gripping the hills. To write and send a letter might be even more difficult. So Truedale reasoned; so he feverishly waited, but he was not idle. He rented a charming little suite of rooms, high up in a new apartment house, and begged Lynda to set them in order at once. Somehow he believed that in the years ahead, after she understood, Lynda would be glad that he had asked this from her.

"But why the hurry, Con?" she naturally questioned; "if people are going to be so spasmodic I'll have to get a partner. It may be all right, looked at financially, but it's the ruination of art."

"But this is a special case, Lyn."

"They're all special cases."

"But this is a--welcome."

"For whom?"

"Well, for me! You see I've never had a real home, Lyn. It's one of the luxuries I've always dreamed of."

"I had thought," Lynda's clear eyes clouded, "that your uncle's house would be your home at last. It is big enough for us all--we need not run against each other."

"Keep my room under the roof, Lyn." Truedale looked at her yearningly and she--misunderstood! "I shall often come to that--to you and Brace--but humour me in this fancy of mine."

So she humoured him--working early and late--putting more of her own heart in it than he was ever to know, for she believed--poor girl--that he would offer it to her some day and then--when he found out about the money--how exactly like a fairy tale it all would be! And Lynda had had so few fairy tales in her life.

And while she designed and Conning watched and suggested, they talked of his long-neglected work.

"You'll have time soon, Con, to give it your best thought. Did you do much while you were away?"

"Yes, Lyn, a great deal!" Truedale was sitting by the tiny hearth in his diminutive living room. He and Lynda had demanded, and finally succeeded in obtaining an open s.p.a.ce for real logs; disdaining, much to the owner's amazement, an asbestos mat or gas monstrosity. "I really put blood in the thing."

"And when may I hear some of it? I'm wild to get back to our beaten tracks."

Truedale raised his eyes, but he was looking beyond Lynda; he was seeing Nella-Rose in the nest he was preparing for her.

"Soon, Lyn. Soon. And when you do--you, of all the world, will understand, sympathize, and approve."

"Thank you, Con, thank you. Of course I will, but it is good to have you know it! Let me see, what colour scheme shall we introduce in the living room?"

"Couldn't we have a sort of blue-gray; a rather smoky tint with sunshine in it?"

"Good heavens, Con! And it is a north room, too."

"Well, then, how about a misty, whitish--"

"Worse and worse. Con, in a north room there must be warmth and real colour."

"There will be. But put what you choose, Lyn, it will surely be all right."

"Suppose, then, we make it golden brown, or--dull, soft reds?"

Truedale recalled the shabby little shawl that Nella-Rose had worn before she donned her winter disguise.