d of the steps. When y' come down, open _this_ door at
the foot, here. It's a blind door; don't show on the other side. See,
it's bolted. It takes you right into the office. We keep it bolted
from the inside, so no trouble can't come, see?" He unbolted and
opened the door a crack to show her, closed and rebolted it. Then
starting her up the stairs, McAlpin jerked the crazy vizor on his
forehead into a fashion once more simulating child-like frankness and
disappeared by the way he had come.

CHAPTER XXXV

AT KITCHEN'S BARN

To be so summarily left alone and in such a place was disconcerting.
Kate, in the semi-darkness and silence, put her foot on the first tread
of the steps and, placing her hand against the wall, looked upward.
Not a sound; above her a partial light through a trap-door and a
wounded man. She stood completely unnerved. The thought of Laramie
wounded, perhaps dying, the man that had rescued her, protected her, in
truth saved her life on that fearful night--this man, now lying above
her stricken, perhaps murdered, by her own father's friends! How could
she face him? Only the thought that he should not lie wounded unto
death without knowing at least that she was not ungrateful, that she
had not wittingly betrayed him, gave her strength to start up the
narrow steps.

When her head rose above the trap opening the light in the large loft
seemed less than it had promised from below. There were no windows,
but through a gable door, partly ajar, shot a narrow slit of daylight
from the afterglow of the sunset. Kate caught glimpses of a maze of
rafters, struts and beams and under them huge piles of loose hay.
Reaching the top step she paused, trying to look about in the dim
light, when Laramie, close at hand, startled her: "McAlpin told me you
wanted to see me," he said. She could distinguish nothing for a
moment. But the low words reassured her.

"I'm lying on the hay," he continued, in the same tone. "If you'll
open the door a little more you can see better."

Picking her way carefully over to it, Kate pushed the door open
somewhat wider and turned toward Laramie.

He lay not far from the stairs. The yellow light of the evening glow
falling on his face reflected a greenish pallor. Kate caught her
breath, for it seemed as if she were looking into the face of death
until she perceived, as he turned his head, the unusual brightness of
his eyes.

In her confusion what she had meant