this opportunity; I wanted to see you alone, and I
couldn't think how it was to be managed. I have something to tell you,
Larry, something that I _must_ tell you, and you must promise to be very
patient with me."

"You know what happened this morning, do you?" he asked gravely, for he
thought from her words that she had, perhaps, chanced to hear of some
further action to be taken by the suspicious cattlemen.

"It was terrible--terrible, Larry. Why didn't you tell them who you are?
Why did you let them--" she could not finish.

He laughed shortly. "It would have been such a sinful waste of words.
Can't you imagine me trying to make those men believe such a fairy
story--under such circumstances?"

For a little they walked in silence; then he asked, "Is it about Jim
Reid's suspicion that you wanted to see me, Helen?"

"No, Larry, it isn't. It's about Kitty," she answered.

"Oh!"

"Kitty told me all about it, to-day," Helen continued. "The poor child
is almost beside herself."

The man did not speak. Helen looked up at him almost as a mother might
have done.

"Do you love her so very much, Larry? Tell me truly, do you?"

Patches could not--dared not--look at her.

"Tell me, Larry," she insisted gently. "I must know. Do you love Kitty
as a man ought to love his wife?"

The man answered in a voice that was low and shaking with emotion. "Why
should you ask me such a question? You know the answer. What right have
you to force me to tell you that which you already know--that I love
you--another man's wife?"

Helen's face went white. In her anxiety for Kitty she, had not foreseen
this situation in which, by her question, she had placed herself.

"Larry!" she said sharply.

"Well," he retorted passionately, "you insisted that I tell you the
truth."

"I insisted that you tell me the truth about Kitty," she returned.

"Well, you have it," he answered quickly.

"Oh, Larry," she cried, "how could you--how could you ask a woman you do
not love to be your wife? How could you do it, Larry? And just when I
was so proud of you; so glad for you that you had found yourself; that
you were such a splendid man!"

"Kitty and I are the best of friends," he answered in a dull, spiritless
tone, "the best of companions. In the past year I have grown very fond
of her--we have much in common. I can give her the life she desires--the
life she is fitted for. I will make her happy; I will be true to her; I
will be to her everythi