ggle something came upon her, and her heart seemed to stand still.
It was as though a flash of mental light had illumined her clouded
horizon. Realization swept in upon her, a full terrible realization of
the source of her fear.

It was to do with this cattle stealing. Yes, she knew it now. She knew
more. She knew who the cattle-rustler was, for whom Jim was to stand
the blame. She needed no words to tell her. She had no evidence. She
needed none. Her woman's instinct served her, as though she had
witnessed his acts. It was Will. It was--her husband.

And, all unconsciously, for so long this had been her fear. She
remembered now so many things. She remembered his cynical laugh when
he told her of his gold find, and how easy it was to work. She
remembered her lack of confidence in his story--knowing the man as she
did. She remembered her repugnance at the sight of the money he had
spent on her, and how she could never bring herself to touch that
which he sent to her. She had believed then that her reasons were
personal. That it was because it came from him, the man who had
struck her down, and left her to die at his hands, for all he cared;
the man whose brutality had so quickly killed her love; the man whom
she had long since admitted to herself that she detested, despised.
No, she needed no further evidence. It was her woman's instinct that
guided and convinced her.

She shuddered. She was chilled under a blazing sun that had no power
to warm her. But her terror was not for Will. It was for herself. For
the hideousness of the disgrace to which he had brought her. In fancy
she saw him food for carrion at the end of a rope; she saw his body
swaying to the night breeze, an ominous, hideous shadow, a warning to
all of the fate awaiting those who sinned against the unwritten laws
of the cattle world. She heard the pitying tones of the village women,
she saw their furtive side glances, heard their whispering comments as
they passed her, these women whom she had always lived amongst, whom
she had always counted as friends. Oh, the horror of it all, and she
was utterly--utterly powerless. Worse, she must strive her utmost to
shield Will. And, because he was her husband, she must leave Jim to
fight his own battle with her added wits pitted against him.

She remembered Jim's words. "May God have mercy on his soul, for I
won't." Jim--Jim was to be Will's Nemesis--her Nemesis. He must be the
man who would drive the sword crash