that'd be
different. Blome will probably die in his boots, thinking he's the worst
man and the quickest one on the draw in the West."

That was conclusive enough for me. The little shadow of worry that had
haunted me in spite of my confidence vanished entirely.

"Russ, for the present help me do something for Jim Hoden's family,"
went on Steele. "His wife's in bad shape. She's not a strong woman.
There are a lot of kids, and you know Jim Hoden was poor. She told me
her neighbors would keep shy of her now. They'd be afraid. Oh, it's
tough! But we can put Jim away decently and help his family."

Several days after this talk with Steele I took Miss Sampson and Sally
out to see Jim Hoden's wife and children. I knew Steele would be there
that afternoon, but I did not mention this fact to Miss Sampson. We rode
down to the little adobe house which belonged to Mrs. Hoden's people,
and where Steele and I had moved her and the children after Jim Hoden's
funeral. The house was small, but comfortable, and the yard green and
shady.

If this poor wife and mother had not been utterly forsaken by neighbors
and friends it certainly appeared so, for to my knowledge no one besides
Steele and me visited her. Miss Sampson had packed a big basket full of
good things to eat, and I carried this in front of me on the pommel as
we rode. We hitched our horses to the fence and went round to the back
of the house. There was a little porch with a stone flooring, and here
several children were playing. The door stood open. At my knock Mrs.
Hoden bade me come in. Evidently Steele was not there, so I went in with
the girls.

"Mrs. Hoden, I've brought Miss Sampson and her cousin to see you," I
said cheerfully.

The little room was not very light, there being only one window and the
door; but Mrs. Hoden could be seen plainly enough as she lay,
hollow-cheeked and haggard, on a bed. Once she had evidently been a
woman of some comeliness. The ravages of trouble and grief were there to
read in her worn face; it had not, however, any of the hard and bitter
lines that had characterized her husband's.

I wondered, considering that Sampson had ruined Hoden, how Mrs. Hoden
was going to regard the daughter of an enemy.

"So you're Roger Sampson's girl?" queried the woman, with her bright
black eyes fixed on her visitor.

"Yes," replied Miss Sampson, simply. "This is my cousin, Sally Langdon.
We've come to nurse you, take care of the children, help you i