s
war. Jean watched them, as they conversed apart; and he saw Ann's
hands creep up to Colmor's breast, and he saw her dark eyes, eloquent,
hungry, fearful, lifted with queries her lips did not speak. Jean
stepped beside them, and laid an arm over both their shoulders.

"Colmor, for Ann's sake you'd better back out of this Jorth-Isbel
fight," he whispered.

Colmor looked insulted. "But, Jean, it's Ann's father," he said. "I'm
almost one of the family."

"You're Ann's sweetheart, an', by Heaven, I say you oughtn't to go with
us!" whispered Jean.

"Go--with--you," faltered Ann.

"Yes. Dad is goin' straight after Jorth. Can't you tell that? An'
there 'll be one hell of a fight."

Ann looked up into Colmor's face with all her soul in her eyes, but she
did not speak. Her look was noble. She yearned to guide him right,
yet her lips were sealed. And Colmor betrayed the trouble of his soul.
The code of men held him bound, and he could not break from it, though
he divined in that moment how truly it was wrong.

"Jean, your dad started me in the cattle business," said Colmor,
earnestly. "An' I'm doin' well now. An' when I asked him for Ann he
said he'd be glad to have me in the family.... Well, when this talk of
fight come up, I asked your dad to let me go in on his side. He
wouldn't hear of it. But after a while, as the time passed an' he made
more enemies, he finally consented. I reckon he needs me now. An' I
can't back out, not even for Ann."

"I would if I were you," replied jean, and knew that he lied.

"Jean, I'm gamblin' to come out of the fight," said Colmor, with a
smile. He had no morbid fears nor presentiments, such as troubled jean.

"Why, sure--you stand as good a chance as anyone," rejoined Jean. "It
wasn't that I was worryin' about so much."

"What was it, then?" asked Ann, steadily.

"If Andrew DOES come through alive he'll have blood on his hands,"
returned Jean, with passion. "He can't come through without it....
I've begun to feel what it means to have killed my fellow men.... An'
I'd rather your husband an' the father of your children never felt
that."

Colmor did not take Jean as subtly as Ann did. She shrunk a little.
Her dark eyes dilated. But Colmor showed nothing of her spiritual
reaction. He was young. He had wild blood. He was loyal to the
Isbels.

"Jean, never worry about my conscience," he said, with a keen look.
"Nothin' would tickle me any more than to get a shot