it's reasonable to expect that Gregory
will keep clear of him after this," he said.

"Don't you mean that Agatha did it?"

It was Mrs. Hastings who asked the question, and Agatha became intent as
she heard her name. She did not, however, hear the answer, and Mrs.
Hastings spoke again.

"Allen," she said, "you don't keep a secret badly, though Harry pledged
you not to tell. Still, all that caution was a little unnecessary. It
was, of course, just the kind of thing he would do."

"What did he do?" Hastings asked, and Agatha heard Mrs. Hastings' soft
laugh, for they were just outside the door now.

"Left the Range, or most of it, to Agatha in case he didn't come back
again."

They went on, and Agatha, turning from the window, sat down limply with
the blood in her face and her heart beating fast. Wyllard's last care,
it seemed, had been to provide for her, and that fact brought her a
curious sense of solace. In an unexplainable fashion it took the
bitterest sting out of her grief, though how far he had succeeded in his
intentions did not seem to matter in the least.. It was sufficient to
know that amid all the haste of his preparation he had not forgotten
her.

Becoming a little calmer, she understood what had been in Hastings' mind
during the interview that had puzzled her, and was glad that she assured
him of her willingness to sacrifice anything that might be hers if it
was needed to set Gregory free. It was, she felt, what Wyllard would
have done with the money. He had said that Gregory was a friend of his,
and that, she knew, meant a great deal to him.

She suddenly realized that she must join the others if she did not wish
her absence to excite comment. Going out, she came face to face with
Sally in the corridor. The girl stopped, and saw the sympathy in her
eyes.

"Yes," she said impulsively, "I've saved him. Edmonds has gone. Hastings
bought him off, and, though I don't quite know how, you helped him. He
stayed behind to wait for you."

Agatha smiled. The vibrant relief in her companion's voice stirred her,
and she realized once more that in choosing this half-taught girl
Gregory had acted with a wholly unusual wisdom. It was with a sense of
half-contemptuous amusement at her own folly that she remembered how she
had once fancied that Gregory was marrying beneath him. Sally was far
from perfect, but in the essentials the man was not fit to brush her
shoes.

"My dear," responded Agatha, "I really don'