"I been a houn'-dog. My G.o.d, Betty, you don't mean--"

"That I love you, Vic. I never knew what it was to love you before."

"After I been a man-killin', lyin', sneakin'--"

"Don't you say another word. Vic, it was all my fault."

"It wasn't. It was mine. But if you'd only kind of held off a little and gone easy with me."

"You didn't give me a chance."

"When I looked back from the road you wasn't standin' in the door."

"I was. And you didn't look back."

"I did."

"Vic Gregg, are you trying to--"

But the anger fled from her as suddenly as it had come.

"I don't care. I'll take all the blame."

"I don't want you to. I won't let you."

She laughed hysterically.

"Vic, tell me that you're free?"

"I'm paroled."

"Thank G.o.d! Oh, I've prayed and prayed--Vic, don't talk. Sit down there--so! I just want to look and look at you. There's a hollow, hungry place in me that's filling up again."

"It was Pete Gla.s.s," said Gregg brokenly. "He--he trusted me clean through when the rest was lookin' at me like I was a snake. Pete got word to the governor, an'--"

There followed a long interval of talk that meant nothing, and then, as the afternoon waned towards evening, and the evening toward dark, he told her the whole story of the long adventure. He left out nothing, not a detail that might tell against him. When he came to the moment when Gla.s.s persuaded him to go back and betray Barry he winced, but set his jaw and plunged ahead. She, too, paled when she heard that, and for a moment she had to cover her eyes, but she was older by half a life-time than she had been when he was last with her, and now she read below the surface. Besides, Vic had offered to undo what he had done, had offered to stay and fight for Barry, and surely that evened the score!

There was a light rap on the door, and then Mrs. Sommers came in with a tray.

"Maybe you young folks forgot about supper," she said. "I just thought I'd bring in a bite for you."

She placed it on the table, and then lingered, delighted, while her eyes went over them together and one by one. Perhaps Betty Neal was a fool for throwing herself away on a gun-fighter, but at least Mrs. Sommers was furnished with a story which half Alder would know by tomorrow.

The walls of her house were not sound proof. Besides, Mrs. Sommers had remarkably keen ears.

"They's been a gentleman here ask for you, Vic," she said, "but I thought maybe you wouldn't like it much to be disturbed. So I told him you wasn't here."

Her smile fairly glowed with triumph.

"Thanks," said Gregg, "but who was he?"

"I never seen him before. Anyway, it didn't much matter. He wanted to see some of the rest of the boys quite bad: Pete Gla.s.s and Ronicky Joe, and Sliver Waldron, and Gus Reeve. He seemed to want to see 'em all particular bad."

"Pete Gla.s.s and Ronicky and--the posse!" murmured Vic. He grew thoughtful. "He wanted to see me, too?"

"Very particular, and he seemed kind of down-hearted when he found that Pete was out of town. Wanted to know when he might be back."

"What sort of a lookin' gent was he?" asked Vic, and his voice was sharp.

"Him? Oh, he looked like a tenderfoot to me. Terrible polite, though, and he had a voice that wasn't hardly rougher'n a girl's. Seemed like he was sort of embarra.s.sed jest talkin' to me." She smiled at the thought, but Gregg was on his feet now, his hands on the shoulders of Mrs.

Sommers as though he would try to shake information from her loose bulk.

"Look quick, now," he said. "Where did you send him?"

"How you talk! Why, where should I send him? I told him like as not Ronicky and Sliver and Gus would be down to Lorrimer's--"

The groan of Vic made her stop with a gasp.

"What did he look like?"

Mrs. Sommers was very sober. Her smile congealed.

"Black hair, and young, and good-lookin', and b-b-brown eyes, and--"

"G.o.d!"

"Vic," cried Betty Neal, "what is it!" She looked around her in terror.

"It's Barry."

He turned towards the door, and then stopped, in an agony of indecision.

Betty Neal was before him, blocking the way with her arms outstretched.

"Vic, you shan't go. You shan't go. You've told me yourself that he's sure death."

"G.o.d knows he is."

"You won't go, Vic?"

"But the others! Ronicky--Gus--"

She stammered in her fear.

"That's their lookout! They're three to one. Let them kill--"

"But they don't know him. They've never been close enough to see his face. Besides, no three men I--he--for G.o.d's sake tell me what to do!"

"Stay here--if you love me. I won't let you go. I won't!"