you've set him free," he exclaimed. "The fellow has come to his
senses, has he?"

"No, he has not," she snapped with temper darkening her eyes. "I was not
afraid of him, so I let him loose, but he's made me no promise. Now it is
up to you; I'm done."

She slipped out through the opening, and Hobart leaned against the door,
pushing it shut behind her, his scowling eyes watching West intently.

"So, that is how it stands, is it, my man?" he growled threateningly.
"You even refuse to accept the word of the lady, do you?"

"Those are very nearly the facts," West replied steadily. "Then I told
her I thought she must be mistaken; now I believe she was sent here for
no other purpose but to deceive me. If I ever had any doubt of a crime,
it has vanished since this interview."

"What crime?"

"Murder; the killing of Percival Coolidge. Is that plain enough, Hobart?
I want you to understand. I am fighting this case from now on in the
open; it is going to be man to man."

"What the hell do you mean, you cur?"

"I'll tell you," went on West coldly, determined now to so anger the
fellow as to bring the whole matter to a climax, reckless of the
consequences. "I charge you with murder. I haven't the proof, but I'll
get it; I do not know the object, but I'll find out."

"You fool! you'll never get away from here. My God, you must be crazy!"

"Never was saner in all my life, Hobart. I am a soldier, and am taking a
soldier's chance. Now listen. I feel no particular interest in the death
of Percival Coolidge. In my judgment the world is just as well off with
him dead as alive. But what this means to Natalie Coolidge is another
matter entirely."

"She told you--"

"Yes, she told me--a lie. That is what hurts; what makes me ready to take
any chance to put you where you belong. You have lied to her, deceived
her, made her your accomplice in crime. I'm fighting for a woman, because
she has got no one else to fight for her."

"Oh, I see; in love, hey--with her, or her money?"

"With neither so far as I know," frankly. "She is a woman helpless in
your hands; that is sufficient."

"But, hell, she hasn't any use for you--didn't she tell you so?"

"Quite plainly--yes. But that is no excuse for any man to play the
coward. I am not afraid of you, Hobart, or your gang. You got me before
by treachery; I was not looking for trouble. But now I am. I am going
through that door, and if you try to stop me you are going to get hurt."

Th