"Because dad will kill him!" she cried.

"My God! what are you saying?" exclaimed Moore, incredulously. "Old Bill
would roar and rage, but hurt that boy of his--never!"

"Wils, I reckon Collie is right. You haven't got Old Bill figured. I
know," interposed Wade, with one of his forceful gestures.

"Wilson, listen, and don't set your heart against me. For I _must_ do
this thing," pleaded Columbine. "I heard dad swear he'd kill Jack. Oh,
I'll never forget! He was terrible! If he ever finds out that Jack stole
from his own father--stole cattle like a common rustler, and sold them
for gold to gamble and drink with--he will kill him!... That's as true
as fate.... Think how horrible that would be for me! Because I'm to
blame here, mostly. I fell in love with _you_, Wilson Moore, otherwise I
could have saved Jack already.

"But it's not that I think of myself. Dad has loved me. He has been as a
father to me. You know he's not my real father. Oh, if I only had a real
one!... And I owe him so much. But then it's not because I owe him or
because I love him. It's because of his own soul!... That splendid,
noble old man, who has been so good to every one--who had only one
fault, and that love of his son--must he be let go in blinded and insane
rage at the failure of his life, the ruin of his son--must he be allowed
to kill his own flesh and blood?... It would be _murder!_ It would damn
dad's soul to everlasting torment. No! No! I'll not let that be!"

"Collie--how about--your own soul?" whispered Moore, lifting himself as
if about to expend a tremendous breath.

"That doesn't matter," she replied.

"Collie--Collie--" he stammered, but could not go on.

Then it seemed to Wade that they both turned to him unconscious of the
inevitableness of his relation to this catastrophe, yet looking to him
for the spirit, the guidance that became habitual to them. It brought
the warm blood back to Wade's cold heart. It was his great reward. How
intensely and implacably did his soul mount to that crisis!

"Collie, I'll never fail you," he said, and his gentle voice was deep
and full. "If Jack can be scared into haltin' in his mad ride to
hell--then I'll do it. I'm not promisin' so much for him. But I'll swear
to you that Old Belllounds's hands will never be stained with his
son's blood!"

"Oh, Ben! Ben!" she cried, in passionate gratitude. "I'll love
you--bless you all my life!"

"Hush, lass! I'm not one to bless.... An' now you mus