oman's voice broke the silence.

"Where--where did this all happen?"

The question was the verbal expression of a despairing hope. The
voice, however, was steady.

"In the Cathills."

"The Lightfoot gang?"

"Yes. That's what he called it. You knew of them?"

There was a slight movement of the woman's shoulders. It was the
faintest possible shrug.

"Everybody in Calthorpe heard of them."

Then she turned and faced him. The mask with which she confronted him
was perfect. Her dark beauty was unimpaired by a sign of emotion.
Even her cheeks had returned to their customary delicate bloom. Her
eyes shone with a world of sympathy as she came toward him.

"Jeff, don't think of it all--now, dear. It's too, too dreadful.
Guess I was wrong to let you tell me. I certainly was. It's past.
It's done with. Nothing can ever bring him back to you. To dwell upon
it, to think and feel that way, will only serve to embitter your life.
Say, try, Jeff. I'll help you, dear. I will. Sure. Sure. Won't you
try, for--my sake?"

The man took her hands in his. He drew her toward him. The strained
expression of his eyes melted before her perfect beauty.

"I'll try, Evie," he said, without conviction. Then he kissed her.

After a while she looked up.

"And the stores, Jeff?"

The man smiled down in response.

"Sure--the stores."

CHAPTER XV

THE HOME-COMING

Six weeks of all she had ever hoped for, dreamed of, in the lean years
of heart starvation. The complete devotion of a strong man, a man who
held a place in the world she knew. Every luxury wealth could purchase
at her disposal, even to satiation. Her every whim ministered to, and
even anticipated. This was something of the ripe fruit literally
heaped into Elvine's lap. She had longed for it, schemed for it, and
Providence had permitted all her efforts complete success.

Now, with those six weeks behind her, she gazed upon the balance-sheet.
She looked for the balance of happiness. To her horror it was blotted
out, smudged out of all recognition. Oh, yes, the figures had been
entered, but now they were completely obscured.

It was the last stage of her journey to her new home. It was a journey
being made in the saddle. Their baggage, a large number of trunks
loaded with the precious gleanings from the great stores during the
honeymoon, had been sent on ahead by wagon. There was nothing, so far
as could be seen, to rob the home-coming o