y over his
body. He was dressed differently to anything she had ever seen him in.
He was wearing a suit of store clothes, and a soft cotton shirt with a
collar. His whole appearance suggested the Sunday costume of any of
the villagers, which they generally wore when setting out on a visit
to a town of some importance. Just for a moment she wondered if this
was Will's intention. Was he about to make a bolt out of the country?

He shut the door carefully, and glanced round the darkened room. There
was just sufficient glow from the stove to tell him there was no one
else in the place.

"Where's Elia? Are you alone?"

His tone was peremptory and suspicious. His furtive eyes told Eve that
he was apprehensive. She nodded.

"Elia's gone snaring jack-rabbits on the bluff, out back," she said
unsuspiciously. "Shall I light a lamp?"

"No." His negative came emphatically.

He came round to the stove, and stood looking down at her for some
moments. There was a dark, sullen frown in his eyes which might well
have suggested possibilities to the most unsuspicious. But she was not
suspicious, just then. She was wondering and fearful that he had
returned to the village instead of getting away. Why had he come? she
asked herself. But her question found no voice.

"Well?" he said at last, with such a sneer that she lifted a pair of
startled eyes to his face. Her heart was hammering in her bosom. She
had suddenly realized his temper.

"I'm going away," he said sharply. "I've got to get out. I came in for
money. Have you got any of my money?"

"All of it."

"Ah, good. You're more use than I thought you. How much?"

"Over a thousand dollars."

Eve's voice was icy. Her whole attitude seemed almost mechanical. Yet
a wild terror was slowly creeping over her, mounting steadily to her
brain. Nor was the reason for it quite apparent yet.

The man's eyes sparkled, and for a moment his frown lightened.

"Good. You can hand it over." And his voice was almost friendly.

Eve went into her bedroom and returned with a pile of bills. Will held
out his hand for them, but she ignored it, and laid them on the table.
He seized upon them greedily, glancing queerly at her as he pocketed
them.

"Good," he said thoughtfully, "now I can get busy." He lifted his eyes
to his wife's face again, and stared at her malevolently, and the
woman shivered under his scrutiny. She had shrunk from coming into
contact with the hand that had shot down one o