a commotion at the door, again the crowd parted, and in
towered giant Judd Tolliver, pushing people aside as though they were
straws, his bushy hair wild and his great frame shaking from head to
foot with rage.

"You went to my house," he rumbled hoarsely--glaring at Hale--"an' took
my gal thar when I wasn't at home--you--"

"Order in the Court," said the Judge sternly, but already at a signal
from Hale several guards were pushing through the crowd and old Judd
saw them coming and saw the Falins about him and the Winchesters at the
port-holes, and he stopped with a hard gulp and stood looking at June.

"Repeat his exact words," said the deep voice again as calmly as though
nothing had happened.

"He said, 'I'm goin' over to the Gap--'" and still Rufe's black eyes
held her with mesmeric power--would she lie for him--would she lie for
him?

It was a terrible struggle for June. Her father was there, her uncle
Dave was dead, her foster-uncle's life hung on her next words and she
was a Tolliver. Yet she had given her oath, she had kissed the sacred
Book in which she believed from cover to cover with her whole heart,
and she could feel upon her the blue eyes of a man for whom a lie was
impossible and to whom she had never stained her white soul with a word
of untruth.

"Yes," encouraged the deep voice kindly.

Not a soul in the room knew where the struggle lay--not even the
girl--for it lay between the black eyes of Rufe Tolliver and the blue
eyes of John Hale.

"Yes," repeated the deep voice again. Again, with her eyes on Rufe, she
repeated:

"'I'm goin' over to the Gap--'" her face turned deadly white, she
shivered, her dark eyes swerved suddenly full on Hale and she said
slowly and distinctly, yet hardly above a whisper:

"'TO KILL ME A POLICEMAN.'"

"That will do," said the deep voice gently, and Hale started toward
her--she looked so deadly sick and she trembled so when she tried to
rise; but she saw him, her mouth steadied, she rose, and without looking
at him, passed by his outstretched hand and walked slowly out of the
Court Room.

XXVII

The miracle had happened. The Tollivers, following the Red Fox's advice
to make no attempt at rescue just then, had waited, expecting the old
immunity from the law and getting instead the swift sentence that Rufe
Tolliver should be hanged by the neck until he was dead. Astounding and
convincing though the news was, no mountaineer believed he would ever
hang