Miss Robinette, if you'll only talk to her--if you'll only
ask her about it, she'll tell you the story exactly as I've told it.
She trusted me; she was the only bright spot in all the blackness. I
may not be able to convince you--but she could, Miss Robinette. If
you'll only--"

"Would you guarantee the truth of anything she should tell me?"

"Absolutely."

"Even if she told hidden things?"

"Hidden? I don't know what you mean. There's nothing to be hidden.
What she tells you will be the truth, the whole truth, the absolute
truth."

"I'm--I'm sorry." She turned again to the window. Houston went
forward.

"Sorry? Why? There's nothing--"

"Miss Jierdon has told me," came in a strained voice, "things that
perhaps you did not mean for her to tell."

"I? Why, I--"

"That she did pass as you were struggling. That she saw the blow
struck--and that it was you who struck it."

"Miss Robinette!"

"That further, you confessed to her and told her why you had killed
Langdon--because he had discovered something in your own father's life
that would serve as blackmail. That she loved you. And that because
she loved you, she went on the stand and perjured herself to save you
from a conviction of murder--when she knew in her heart that you were
guilty!"

CHAPTER XIV

It was a blow greater, far greater than one that could have been struck
in mere physical contact. Houston reeled with the effect of it; he
gasped, he struggled aimlessly, futilely, for words to answer it.
Vaguely, dizzily, knowing nothing except a dim, hazy desire to rid
himself of the loathsomeness of it, Houston started to the door, only
to be pulled back in the gigantic grip of Ba'tiste Renaud. The old
Canadian was glaring now, his voice was thunderous.

"No! No! You shall not go! You hear Ba'teese, huh? You tell Medaine
that is a lie! Un'stan'? That is a lie!"

"It is," Houston heard his voice as though coming from far away, "but I
don't know how to answer it. I--I--can't answer it. Where is Miss
Jierdon? Is she here? May I see her?"

"Miss Jierdon," Medaine Robinette answered him as though with an
effort, "went back to camp last night."

"May I bring her here, to repeat that before me? There's been some
sort of a horrible mistake--she didn't know what she was saying. She--"

"I'm afraid, Mr. Houston, that I would need stronger evidence--now.
Oh, I want to be fair about this," she burst out suddenly. "I--I
should