perils on the
way were set there for each to face. Well, he would face this last
one with a "stiff upper-lip."

One thing he was irrevocably determined upon, never by word or action
would he add to Eve's unhappiness. And, if the cruel fate that had
always dogged him demanded this final sacrifice, he would at least
have the trifling satisfaction of knowing, as he went out of the
world, that her future had been rendered the smoother by the blow that
had removed Will from his sphere of crime.

He walked briskly back to his horse and leaped upon its back. Then,
turning its head, he sat for a moment thinking. There was still a way
out. Still a means of escape without Eve's learning the truth. But it
was a coward's way, it was the way of the guilty. It was quite simple,
too. He only had to go back and withdraw the knife from the man's
body, and gather up the two handkerchiefs, and--ride away. It sounded
easy; it was easy. A new country. A fresh people who did not know him.
Another start in life. There was hope in the thought. Yes, a little,
but not much. The accusing finger would follow him pointing, the
shadow of the rope would haunt him wherever he went in spite of his
innocence.

"Psha! No!" he exclaimed, and rode away toward the village.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE DISCOMFITURE OF SMALLBONES

Never in all his recollection had Silas Rocket had such a profitable
night. From sundown on, his saloon was packed almost to suffocation,
and he scarcely had time to wipe a single glass between drinks, so
rapidly were the orders shouted across his bar. All the male portion
of Barnriff were present, with the addition of nearly thirty men from
the outlying ranges. It was a sort of mass meeting summoned by Doc
Crombie, who had finally, but reluctantly, been driven to yield to the
public cry against Jim Thorpe.

The doctor understood his people, and knew just how far his authority
would carry him. He had exerted that authority to the breaking point
to protect a man, whom, in his heart, he believed to be innocent of
the charges laid at his door. But now the popular voice was too strong
for him, and he yielded with an ill-grace.

Smallbones was the man responsible for this rebellion against a
long-recognized authority. He was at the bottom of the campaign
against Jim Thorpe. Whether he was himself convinced of the man's
guilt it would have been difficult to say. For some reason, which was
scarcely apparent, he meant to hang him.