s voice strangely steady, "it was good
of you to give him your hat. If I were dead and you did a thing like
that for me I think I should come back to life to kiss your dear hands."

This was so like him! Oh, just the thing Red Reckless would do! The
little thoughtful act of hers had stirred him more deeply than most men
are moved even by big things; and the impulse had come to him to go
straight to her and thank her. And he was a man who obeyed impulses.

The other men had entered the house for their lunch. It seemed
horrible to her that people should be able to eat at a time like this.
Wayne Shandon spoke to her again.

"Your father is going to let Jim go with me," he said. "We are going
to El Toyon. Then I am going to take him back East."

"East!" she exclaimed,

"Yes. I have a fancy he'd like to be buried close to dad."

"You are coming back soon?"

"Immediately. Within ten days, I think. Good-bye, Wanda."

"Wait a minute," she hesitated. "I want to think."

She had not meant to tell him so soon, in the first shock of the death,
about what she had found. But he was going away, and he ought to know,
it was his right to know.

"Will you wait here for me a moment, Wayne?" she asked looking
pitifully up into the face of the man whose grave eyes were fixed upon
her. "Until I run to the house and get something?"

She was glad then that the other men were able to eat, and that her
mother and Julia were waiting on them. Hastening back to her room, she
took the revolver from its hiding place in her trunk, slipped it into
her blouse and ran back to the orchard.

"Wayne," she whispered coming close to him, suspicious of every little
sound in the orchard, fearful of an approaching footstep. "I found
something near Arthur. I did not tell any one. As you are going away
I had better tell you."

She held out the revolver. The sunlight fell on it, glinting brightly
from the polished silver. Wayne Shandon stared at it frowning, as
though he could not or would not believe his eyes. Slowly a deeper
pallor crept into his white face. Then a terrible look which the girl
could not read came into his eyes.

"Good God!" he whispered hoarsely. "You found that near him?"

Suddenly he put his hand out and took it. His fingers touched hers.
They were as cold as ice.

"Wanda," he said, his voice frightening her, it was so hard and
unfamiliar, "you were good to give it to me."

That was all. She felt vag