in, Mrs. Brevoort, but there will have to be a
more or less rigid investigation of this affair by the coroner
and--well, there is no use of your being put to any annoyance or
embarrassment. And I reckon you really _don't_ know what happened after
Ken was shot. The coroner is a friend of ours and will not deem It
necessary to question you at all; you will not have to appear at the
inquest. It's a lucky thing I happened to get there in time to kill
Matlock before he could do any further mischief."

He looked meaningly at her and she gasped with relief and wonder as the
significance of his words dawned upon her.

"And you would do that for me, a stranger!" she said incredulously. "How
noble you are!"

"Well," he said slowly, confused by the gratitude streaming from her
eyes, "you are a friend of his, and I think he would prefer it so. So
don't discuss the matter at all with anyone; just stand 'em all off
somehow. Say you fainted when the first shot was fired. And let me do
all the explaining. I was justified in doing it in my official capacity,
you know, and my statement will end the matter."

And so the world was none the wiser. In the days to come two others were
to learn the truth, and to these four alone was It restricted for all
time. That night after the inquest the body of the dead desperado was
taken to Gunnison, and Justice was satisfied.

To the woman waiting in the darkened room that afternoon it seemed an
age before the surgeon returned with the implements necessary for the
operation he had promptly determined on. Ever and anon she would look
fearfully at her hands and shudder at what she thought she saw there. It
would be easier to bear if she could only be assured that it had not all
been in vain; the figure on the bed lay so alarmingly still. A dozen
times she placed her ear to his heart to convince herself that it was
still beating.

The door creaked shrilly on its rusty hinges and the doctor entered.
After him followed Blount and Ballard, bearing between them a long deal
table requisitioned from the dining-room. Raising the curtains, the room
was flooded with a strong white light, in which the table was placed.

When the wounded man had been removed thereto, the surgeon turned to
Constance.

"All operations are more or less attended with unpleasant features,
Madam," he said kindly. "Had you not better retire?"

She begged piteously to be allowed to remain, even insisting upon her
ability to ren