ndit's only
comment.

"But to kill a man--like that! In cold blood!" Hardy gasped. "Oh, it's
horrible!"

"Why not?" Lopez wanted to know. "Ze skindler, ze coward what beat his
wife. Was evil man." What white-livered folk these Americans were!

Gilbert looked down at Pell's body, which had now, in death, a certain
curious dignity. "But don't you see what you've done?"

Lopez looked at him in bland amazement. "You wouldn't still fool around wiz
ze foolish law, ze silly court?" he inquired. "Do you not see 'ow much
better is my way? One hour ago you 'ave no money, no rancho, no woman. One
little hour! Ze money she is paid, ze rancho she is yours, and ze woman
what you want to marry is free for do so!" He looked Gilbert in the eyes,
and came close to him. "Tell me, 'ave I not keep my promise? 'Ave I not
make you, in one little hour, a 'appy man?"

CHAPTER XII

WHEREIN THE BAD MAN CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE GOOD MAN AND DISAPPEARS; AND A
DEAD MAN STIRS

Immediately after, Lucia came in. She saw the body of her husband, the legs
drawn up a bit, the arms stretched out, the wounded head turned so that the
blood flowing from the forehead could not be seen. Only a few moments
before, this limp, pitiful object had been speaking to her--calling her by
name. It seemed incredible that Pell was powerless now to harm her. Brute
though he had been, he gained, in this awesome instant, a strange glory, as
the dead always do. The splendor of that universal experience was suddenly
his; and, even lying there like a discarded meal-sack, he took on something
of the pomp of a cardinal who had died. Never, of course, had she respected
him more; and though she could not bring herself to shed a tear, she
looked down at the still body, huddled in a heap, and craved one more word
with him. No matter what has happened between a man and a woman; no matter
what tragic hours they have known, when the moment of separation comes,
there is always that wish to have explained a little more, to have taken a
different course in all one's previous actions. It was not that she blamed
herself; she had nothing on her conscience. But there was an instinctive
dread at meeting the certain pain of this crisis.

She could not believe that he had gone from her like this. She had read of
people being blotted out in such fashion; but that Fate should bear down
upon her household, that the lightning should strike within the borders of
her garden, seemed impossi