s, true to the blood of the Jorths. The
sins of the father must be visited upon the daughter.

"Shore y'u might have had me--that day on the Rim--if y'u hadn't told
your name," she said, mockingly, and she gazed into his eyes with all
the mystery of a woman's nature.

Isbel's powerful frame shook as with an ague. "Girl, what do you mean?"

"Shore, I'd have been plumb fond of havin' y'u make up to me," she
drawled. It possessed her now with irresistible power, this fact of
the love he could not help. Some fiendish woman's satisfaction dwelt
in her consciousness of her power to kill the noble, the faithful, the
good in him.

"Ellen Jorth, you lie!" he burst out, hoarsely.

"Jean, shore I'd been a toy and a rag for these rustlers long enough. I
was tired of them.... I wanted a new lover.... And if y'u hadn't give
yourself away--"

Isbel moved so swiftly that she did not realize his intention until his
hard hand smote her mouth. Instantly she tasted the hot, salty blood
from a cut lip.

"Shut up, you hussy!" he ordered, roughly. "Have you no shame? ... My
sister Ann spoke well of you. She made excuses--she pitied you."

That for Ellen seemed the culminating blow under which she almost sank.
But one moment longer could she maintain this unnatural and terrible
poise.

"Jean Isbel--go along with y'u," she said, impatiently. "I'm waiting
heah for Simm Bruce!"

At last it was as if she struck his heart. Because of doubt of himself
and a stubborn faith in her, his passion and jealousy were not proof
against this last stab. Instinctive subtlety inherent in Ellen had
prompted the speech that tortured Isbel. How the shock to him
rebounded on her! She gasped as he lunged for her, too swift for her
to move a hand. One arm crushed round her like a steel band; the
other, hard across her breast and neck, forced her head back. Then she
tried to wrestle away. But she was utterly powerless. His dark face
bent down closer and closer. Suddenly Ellen ceased trying to struggle.
She was like a stricken creature paralyzed by the piercing, hypnotic
eyes of a snake. Yet in spite of her terror, if he meant death by her,
she welcomed it.

"Ellen Jorth, I'm thinkin' yet--you lie!" he said, low and tense
between his teeth.

"No! No!" she screamed, wildly. Her nerve broke there. She could no
longer meet those terrible black eyes. Her passionate denial was not
only the last of her shameful deceit; it was the woman of