he stood out ahead of it, clear to the eye. In ten his
identity was distinguishable. And, presently he rode swiftly at a
gallop past the ranch buildings and drew up before the house.

The rack of that moment was superlative. The woman's hands clenched
and her finger nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. There was
no greeting upon her lips. She only had power to stare; her wide
beautiful eyes were searching the face of the man she loved, searching
it as the criminal in the dock might search the face of the judge about
to pass sentence.

Her tongue was ready for its release. Pent words lay deep in her soul
for an outpouring at the lightest sign. But these things were
dependent, dependent upon the reading she found in the man's eyes.

The horse stood drooping at the termination of its effort. The man
sprang from the saddle. A barn-hand took the beast away to its stable.
Elvine's tongue remained almost cleaving to the roof of her mouth.

The man's fair brows were depressed. His eyes were sternly cold. And
not once did they turn in her direction. He spoke in his usual tone to
the barn-hand. He issued his orders without a sign of emotion.

Elvine could stand no more. She stirred. Then slowly she passed
within the house.

Presently Jeff's step sounded on the veranda. It was quick. There was
nothing lagging in it. The woman gripped the back of a chair in the
living-room in which she had taken refuge. She was seeking support.

The man entered the room. Nor did he remove his hat. He stood just
within the window opening, and his eyes, cold as the gleam of the
mountain glaciers, regarded her steadily.

"I see you understand," he said. "You realized what must happen when I
visited Dug McFarlane in the matter of Peters, who bought your dead
husband's farm. You knew it when you read that letter I gave you. And
so you protested. So you assured me of--your regard."

He came a step nearer. The movement was almost involuntary.

"I have prayed to God that some day he might bring me face to face with
the person who sold my brother's life. He has granted me my prayer.
But it never entered my wildest dreams that it could be the woman I
married. I never questioned your past. To me it was sufficient that
you had taught me the meaning of love. To me you must be all you
seemed. No more, no less. God help me, I had no imagination to tell
me that so fair a body could contain so foul a heart. Were yo