ever since you told me of that
reward? You must. You shall. I have lived through a sort of
purgatory in these hills for too long not to make my voice heard
now--now when there's a chance of making our lives more tolerable. Oh,
I've had a day while you've been away. It's been a day such as in my
craziest moments I've never even dreamed of. Bob, I've discovered what
they've all been trying to discover for years. I've found Lightfoot's
camp!"

"And then?"

The girl's enthusiasm left her husband caught in a wave of
apprehension. He saw with a growing sense of horror the meaning of
that sudden revolt. This was displayed in his manner. Nor was Effie
unobservant of it. Nor unresentful.

She shrugged her perfect shoulders with assumed unconcern.

"That reward--those ten thousand dollars are mine--ours--if I choose.
And--I do choose."

There was no mistaking the firmness, the decision in her final words.
They came deliberate and hard, and they roused the man to prompt and
sharp denial.

"You--do--not."

He was no longer propped against the table. He was no longer gentle.
He stood erect and angry, and their regard was eye to eye. But even so
there was no disputing the woman's dominance of personality. The man's
eyes, for all their anger, conveyed not a tithe of the other's
decision. His whole attitude was subjective to the poise of the
woman's beautiful head, her erect, sculptured shoulders. Her measuring
eyes were full of a fine revolt. There was nothing comparable between
them--except their anger.

"Who can stop me? You?"

The scornful challenge rang sharply through the little room. Then a
silence fraught with intense moment followed upon its heels.

The man nodded. His movement was followed by Effie's mocking laugh.

Perhaps Bob realized the uselessness, the danger of retaining such an
attitude. Perhaps his peculiar nature was unequal to the continuous
effort the position called for. In a moment he seemed to shrink before
those straight gazing eyes, and the light of purpose behind them. When
he finally spoke a curious, almost pleading tone blended with the
genuine horror in his words.

"No, no, Effie, you can't--you daren't!" he cried passionately. "Do
you know what you're doing? Do you know what that reward means to
you--to us? Look at your hands. They're clean, and soft, and white.
Say, girl, that's blood money, blood money that'll surely stain them
with a crimson you'll never wash