Jack nodded his head.

"I'll wait for you in the other room," said Slim.

"Maw, Polly, we all better leave 'em alone."

As the woman and the girl left the room, the old ranchman paused at the
doorway, leading to the kitchen, to advise his son-in-law earnestly:
"I 'low you better tell her; it's best."

The two young people were left alone in the room in which they had
passed so many happy hours to face a crisis in their lives. The day
which had begun sunnily was to end in darkest clouds. The awful
accusation was incredible to Echo. Her faith in her husband was not
shaken. Jack, she felt, could explain. But, no matter what the
outcome might be, she would be loyal to the man she loved. On this
point she was wholly confident. Had she not pledged her faith at the
marriage altar?

"Jack?" a volume of questions was in the word. Taking her hands in his
and looking searchingly in her eyes, he said:

"Before I tell you what's been on my mind these many weeks--I want to
hold you in my arms and hear you say: 'Jack, I believe in you.'"

Echo put her arms about his neck and, nestling close to his breast,
declared: "I do believe in you--no matter what circumstances may be
against you. No matter if all the world calls you guilty--I believe in
you, and love you."

Jack seated himself at the table, and drew his wife down beside him.
Putting his arms about her as she knelt before him, he murmured:
"You're a wife--a wife of the West, as fair as its skies and as
steadfast as its hills--and I--I'm not worthy--"

"Not worthy--you haven't--it isn't--" gasped Echo, starting back from
him, thinking that Jack was about to confess that under some strange
stress of circumstances he had slain the express-agent.

"No, it isn't that," hastily answered Jack, with a shudder at the idea.
"I've lied to you," he simply confessed.

"Lied to me--you?" cried Echo, in dismay.

"I've been a living lie for months," relentlessly continued Jack,
nerving himself for the ordeal through which he would have to pass.

"Jack," wailed Echo, shrinking from him on her knees, covering her face
with her hands.

"It's about Dick."

Echo started. Again Dick Lane had arisen as from out the grave.

"What of him?" she asked, rising to her feet and moving away from him.

"He is alive."

Jack did not dare look at his wife. He sat with his face white and
pinched with anguish.

The young wife groaned in her agony. The blow had fallen. Dick aliv