"and I want to know why you did it?"

Stelton, finding physical intimidation impossible, resorted to mental
craft.

"I didn't want you to love that sheepman," he replied sullenly.

"Why not?"

"Because all those things about him are true, and I thought I'd let yuh
know before yuh broke yore heart."

She searched his face keenly and had to confess to herself that he spoke
with absolute sincerity. Her face slowly paled, and for a moment the room
seemed to whirl about her. The world appeared peopled with horrible
gargoyles that resembled Stelton and that leered and gibbered at her
everywhere.

The foreman saw her wince and grow pallid, and his fury was cooled with
the ice of fiendish satisfaction. He could hurt her now.

"Because you say so doesn't prove it to me," she managed to say at last,
though she scarcely recognized the voice that came from her tremulous
lips.

"I can give you proof enough if you want it," he snapped, suddenly taken
with an idea.

"You can?" The words were pitiful, and her voice broke with the stress of
her misery.

"Yes."

"How?"

"Get Smithy Caldwell in here. He knew that lover of yore's when he wasn't
quite such a sheepman. He'll tell yuh things that'll make yore hair stand
on end."

In his delight at his plan Stelton could not keep the exultant cruelty out
of his voice.

Juliet pounded on the floor with the butt of her weapon (this was the
signal agreed upon for the removal of Stelton), and a sheepman almost
immediately thrust his head in at the door.

"Yes, ma'am?" he inquired.

"Bring Smithy Caldwell in, please," she requested, "and tie his hands."

When the miserable fellow was pushed through the doorway and saw Stelton
standing inside he shrank back against the wall and stood looking from one
to the other with the quick, white eyes of a trapped animal. The thought
came to him that perhaps these two were already deciding his fate, and his
weak chin quivered.

"Sit down, Caldwell," said Juliet, coolly motioning him to one of the
rough chairs. He slunk into it obediently.

"I want to ask you about that letter you sent me in which you said several
things about Mr. Larkin," she went on not unkindly, her heart going out to
the wretch, so abject was his misery.

"Mike here says that everything in that letter is true, and that you can
prove it," she continued. "Is that so?"

Involuntarily Caldwell looked toward Stelton for orders, as he had always
done, and in those be