Jim's actual attitude toward her, she
must think of him in her calculations as the bitterest enemy. In her
tense nervousness she laughed hysterically. Jim, her enemy? How
ridiculous it seemed. And a year ago he had been her lover.

For a moment her terror eased. Thoughts of a year ago were far removed
from the horror of her present. Jim could be nobody's enemy unless it
were his own. Her enemy? Never. He was too kind, too honest, too much
a man. And yet--the haunting of the moment broke out afresh--he must
be. In self-defense he must be her enemy. He could not clear his own
name otherwise.

She pondered. Her eyes grew less wild, less frightened, and a soft
glow welled up in her heart as she thought of the man whom she
declared must be her enemy. Just for a moment she thought how
different things might have been had only her choice fallen otherwise.
Then she stifled her regrets, and, in an instant, was caught again in
the toils of the horror that lay before her.

She tried to think out what she must do when the vigilantes returned.
What would be her best course? She wanted advice so badly. She wanted
to talk it over with somebody, somebody who had clear judgment,
somebody who could think with a man's cool courage. Yes, she wanted a
man's advice. And there was no man to whom she could appeal. Jim?--no,
she decided that she could not go to him. She felt that, for safety,
she had seen too much of him already. Peter? Ah, yes! But the thought
of him only recalled to her mind another trouble with which she was
beset. It was one, which, amidst the horror of the matter of the
cattle stealing, had, for the moment, been banished from her mind.

She remembered the note she had received from him that morning, and
groped for it in the bosom of her dress. It had reached her by a
special messenger, and its tone, for Peter, was urgent and serious.
She found it at last, and straightened out its creases. She was
thankful for the occupation, and lingered over it before she read it
over again.

"DEAR EVE,

"Has Elia returned home? He left camp two mornings ago, before sun
up. I've been hunting him ever since, but can't locate him. I've a
shrewd idea that he's on the trail of your Will, but can't be
sure. Anyway, I'm worried to death about him, and, as a last
resource, thought he might have gone back to you. Send word by the
bearer.

"Yours,