ing party to save Will from the rope.

No, his set purpose was to return to Barnriff and fight the public
feeling he knew there was against him, and to live it down. Besides,
there was Eve. Who could tell, with such a husband as Will, when she
might not need the help of a strong, willing arm? His love for her
was stronger than his discretion, it was more powerful than any
selfish consideration.

He had but one real friend in Barnriff that he knew of. There were
several, he believed, who, at a crisis, would vote in his favor, but
that was all. Peter Blunt he knew he could rely on to the last. And,
somehow, this man, to his mind, was an even more powerful factor than
Doc Crombie. It was not that Peter held any great appeal with the
people, but somehow there was a reserve of mental strength in the man
that lifted him far above his fellows, in his capacity to do in
emergency. He felt that, with the great shadow of Peter standing by,
he had little to fear from such jackals as Smallbones.

Yet the outlook was depressing enough as he drew near his destination.
He no longer had the possibility of clearing his name. That was past.
A hope abandoned with many others in his short life. All thought of
establishing his innocence must be wiped out forever. He had enlisted
himself in Eve's service for good or evil, and the only thing
remaining to him was, by facing the yelping of the Barnriff pack, with
a dogged, defiant front, to attempt to live down his disgrace. In
this, to his simple mind, there was one great thing in his favor. The
cattle stealing was at an end. There would be no further depredations.
And this alone would be of incalculable help to him. He knew the
cattle world well enough to understand that the ethics of the case
were not of paramount importance with these people. It was the loss of
stock which rankled. It was the definite, material loss and injury to
the commerce of the district.

But to a man of his honor and love of fair play the position was
desperately hard. Fate was driving him at a pace that threatened to
wreck in no uncertain manner. The downward path looked so easy--was so
easy. Lately he had frequently found himself wondering why he didn't
go with the tide and head straight for the vortex that he felt would
be only too ready to engulf him. He had been so near it once. That
moment was indelibly fixed on his memory. He doubted that but for
Peter Blunt he would never have resisted the temptation. He kn