er afore," he cried. "I don' know nothin' about it.
Honest I don't." But the girl did not quail.

"You get out," she commanded. "You a bad man. Kill, steal. He know; he
tell me. You get out or I call Beppo. He keel you. He eat you."

"Come, come, now, my dear," urged Bridge, "be calm. Let us get at the
root of this thing. Your young friend accuses me of being a murderer,
does he? And he tells about murders in Oakdale that I have not even
heard of. It seems to me that he must have some guilty knowledge himself
of these affairs. Look at him and look at me. Notice his ears, his chin,
his forehead, or rather the places where his chin and forehead should
be, and then look once more at me. Which of us might be a murderer and
which a detective? I ask you.

"And as for yourself. I find you here in the depths of the wood digging
a lonely grave for a human corpse. I ask myself: was this man murdered?
but I do not say that he was murdered. I wait for an explanation from
you, for you do not look a murderer, though I cannot say as much for
your desperate companion."

The girl looked straight into Bridge's eyes for a full minute before she
replied as though endeavoring to read his inmost soul.

"I do not know this boy," she said. "That is the truth. He was spying
on me, and when I found him he told me that you and your companions were
thieves and murderers and that you were hiding there watching me. You
tell me the truth, all the truth, and I will tell you the truth. I have
nothing to fear. If you do not tell me the truth I shall know it. Will
you?"

"I will," replied Bridge, and then turning toward the brush he called:
"Come here!" and presently a boy and a girl, dishevelled and fearful,
crawled forth into sight. Willie Case's eyes went wide as they fell upon
the Oskaloosa Kid.

Quickly and simply Bridge told the girl the story of the past night, for
he saw that by enlisting her sympathy he might find an avenue of escape
for his companions, or at least a haven of refuge where they might hide
until escape was possible. "And then," he said in conclusion, "when the
searchers arrived we followed the foot prints of yourself and the bear
until we came upon you digging this grave."

Bridge's companions and Willie Case looked their surprise at his
mention of a bear; but the gypsy girl only nodded her head as she had
occasionally during his narrative.

"I believe you," said the girl. "It is not easy to deceive Giova. Now I
tell yo