an' besides, you ain't a killer."

"You gimme that gun an' see!" cried the lad, reaching out a hand
tremulous and eager.

"When the time came, Kid, 'stead o' shootin', you'd drop your gun like
that time in th' wood."

"Th' wood!" Spike's voice dropped to a strangled whisper and he shrank
back against the fence. "You--my God, you--saw--!"

"'S right, Kid, I was there! An' I'm kind o' glad y' couldn't do it,
glad for your sister's sake. But what I'm thinkin' is that maybe she
thinks it was you--eh, Kid?"

Spike writhed and groaned.

"Eh, Kid?"

"Yes!"

"Why, then, if I was you, I'd skin off right now an' put her wise; it
may mean a whole lot t' her. Y' know where she is--go an' tell her,
Kid."

"I can't! I can't--she don't want me no more, she's done wi' me, I
guess. I'm--oh, I'm too low-down an' rotten!"

"Sure!" nodded Soapy. "But she's good, an' she's a woman; an' good
women are only made t' forgive, I reckon."

"But there's Geoff! I--I couldn't face Geoff."

"That's because you think a heap too much about a low-down rotten guy
called Spike. I guess it's about time you began t' think about your
sister f' a change. Well, s' long, Kid, I guess I'll be movin'; this
pail comes a bit sharp after an hour of it."

So saying, Soapy rose, nodded, and strolled away, still twirling the
revolver upon that long and dexterous finger. For a moment Spike stood
looking after him, then, chin on breast, turned and went his solitary
way across the desolate waste. But now it was Soapy who, pausing, turned
to watch him safe out of sight. Scarcely had the sound of Spike's
departure died away than a door opened and closed hard by, and heavy
steps approached, halted suddenly, and a hoarse voice demanded:

"Who's there?"

"Why, this is me, Bud."

"What th' hell are ye hangin' around out here for?" questioned M'Ginnis
suspiciously.

"Countin' th' stars, Bud, an' doin' th' Providence act--midst of life
we are in death' gag--"

"Aw, cut out that slush an' hike along t' Rayner's wi' me; I got a job
for you an' Heine--"

Side by side they crossed the gloomy, open lot until they were come
beneath a lamp at a certain bleak street corner. Here Soapy paused and
held out his hand, open to the light.

"This don't happen t' be your ring, Bud?" he enquired lazily.

M'Ginnis glanced at the ring upon that narrow palm, a ring wrought into
the semblance of two hands that clasped each other, looked closer, drew
in his breath suddenl