ing her to the dust beneath the
weight of her husband's crime.

A despairing hope swept her. Ah, no, no. It could not be. That would
be too cruel. No, no, she must be wrong. Will was not guilty. He could
not be. This thing could surely never come upon her. What had she
ever done to deserve it? What----? She thought of the man before her.
What had he ever done to deserve his fate? And suddenly the momentary
hope slid from under her feet.

Now her thought and terror found expression against her will. It would
not be denied. It showed in her shrinking attitude. It was displayed
in her horrified eyes. And Jim saw these things and read them in his
own way. He deemed that he had shocked her by his words, nor could he
clearly understand that the force of his determination to defend
himself should so shock her. However, he promptly strove to lighten
the impression he had made.

"Don't let us speak of these things. Let us think and speak of other
matters. You see," he went on whimsically, "you were the first person
I met, and I s'pose it was only natural you should get all the burden
of--of my nightmare."

But Eve could not rid herself of her terror. She felt she must talk of
this thing.

"No," she said with an effort to keep calm, "we must talk of it. We
must think--think----"

"There is no need for you to think, Eve. Put it out of your head. I
shall run him to earth----"

"But, Jim," she broke out, his words driving her to fresh terror, "it
must be some half-breeds. Or--or--some 'toughs' from across the
border. It must be. We are very near the Canadian border, remember.
They're always being driven across by the Mounted Police."

"No, it's some one in the locality. Some one nobody would suspect. You
see, there have been no strangers in the district for months."

"How do you know?" Eve's startled inquiry came almost defiantly.

If the man noticed her tone he gave no sign. He shook his head
decidedly.

"We've had the district hunted, scoured thoroughly, sure." Then he
shrugged. "But it don't matter. Psha! I'd sooner it was some
half-breed or tough. I'd--I'd be less sorry for him." He paused and
gazed tenderly into her troubled face. "But you don't need to be so
shocked. Why?" he inquired. "This thing can't hurt you."

The girl jumped at the chance of denial.

"No, no, of course not," she exclaimed eagerly. Then, with a pitiful
effort at subterfuge, "But you, Jim. To think that you are blamed."

In an instant hi