ded when they were
outside. "If you have anything on your mind, Steele--"

"I have," interrupted Philip, "and I'm going to relieve myself of it.
Pretty? She's as beautiful as an angel, Buck--the colonel's wife, I
mean. And you--" He laughed harshly. "You're always the lucky dog, Buck
Nome. You think she's half in love with you now. Too bad she was taken
ill just at the psychological moment, as you might say, Buck. Wonder
what was the matter?"

"Don't know," growled Nome, conscious of something in the other's voice
which darkness concealed in his face.

"Of course, you don't," replied Steele.

"That's why I am bringing you over to the cabin. I am going to tell you
just what happened when Mrs. Becker was taken ill, and when she turned
a trifle pale, if you noticed sharply. Buck. It's a good joke, a mighty
good joke, and I know you will thoroughly appreciate it."

He drew a step back when they came near the cabin, and Nome entered
first. Very coolly Philip turned and bolted the door. Then, throwing off
his coat, he pointed to the white skull dangling under the lamp.

"Allow me to introduce an old friend of mine, Buck--M'sieur Janette, of
Nelson House."

With a sudden curse Nome leaped toward his companion, his face flaming,
his hands clenched to strike--only to look into the shining muzzle of
Steele's revolver, with Steele's cold gray eyes glittering dangerously
behind it.

"Sit down, Nome--right there, under the man you killed!" he commanded.
"Sit down, or by the gods I'll blow your head off where you stand!
There--and I'll sit here, like this, so that the cur's heart within you
is a bull's-eye for this gun. It's M'sieur Janette's turn tonight,"
he went on, leaning over the little table, the red spots in his cheeks
growing redder and brighter as Nome cringed before his revolver.
"M'sieur Janette's--and the colonel's; but mostly Janette's. Remember
that, Nome. It's for Janette. I'm not thinking much about Mrs.
Becker--just now."

Steele's breath came quickly and his lips were almost snarling in his
hatred of the man before him.

"It's a lie!" gasped Nome chokingly, his face ashen white. "You lie when
you say I killed--Janette."

The fingers of Steele's pistol hand twitched.

"How I'd like to kill you!" he breathed. "You won his wife, Nome; you
broke his heart--and after that he killed himself. You sent a report
into headquarters that he killed himself by accident. You lied. It
was you who killed him--by tak