n a low voice. "And I can never
thank you enough. No," as he made an attempt to stop her, "I must
speak. I didn't want to, but--but I must. It isn't money we
want--truth. Not yet. But maybe you can help me. I don't rightly know.
You do want to, don't you? Sure--sure?"

Jim nodded. His eyes told her. At that moment he would have done
anything for her.

"Well, if you want to help me there's only one way. Help him. Oh, Jim,
he needs it. I don't know how it's to be done, but--for my sake--help
him. Jim, it's drink--drink and poker. They're ruining him. You can
only help me--by helping him. No, don't promise anything. Good-night,
Jim. God bless you!"

She held out her hand to him and, in a paroxysm of ardent feeling, he
clutched it and kissed it passionately. A moment later he was gone.

As the door closed Elia stepped into the light. The girl had forgotten
all about him. Now she was startled.

"Eve, wot fer did you lie about that?" he said, pointing at her
bandaged head.

The girl's head was aching so that it seemed it would split, and she
closed her eyes. But the boy would not be denied.

"You lied, sis," he exclaimed vehemently, though his face and eyes
were quite calm. "Will did that, 'cause you wouldn't give him thirty
dollars. I see him throw you 'crost the room. I hate him."

Eve was wide-eyed now.

"You saw him?" she cried in alarm. Then she paused. Suddenly her tone
changed. "Come here, Elia," she said gently.

The boy came toward her and she took one of his hands and fondled it.

"How did you see him?" she went on.

"Through the window. I was waitin' fer supper." In spite of her caress
the boy was sulky.

"Well, promise me you won't tell anybody. You haven't, have you?"

The boy shook his head.

"I won't tell, sis, if you don't want me. But--but why don't you kill
him?"

* * * * *

The three men were walking across the market-place.

"That's Will Henderson's work," exclaimed Crombie with a fierce oath,
nodding his head back at Eve's house.

Jim and Peter offered no comment. Both had long since realized the
fact.

"Gol durn him!" cried the fiery doctor. "He'll kill her--if he don't
get killed instead."

Jim said nothing. Eve's passionate appeal to him was still ringing in
his ears. It was Peter who answered.

"You goin' to home, Doc? I'm goin' down to the saloon--to fetch
Will."

"You are?" It was Jim's startled inquiry. "What for?"

"I'm go