e in the air. Keller remained to
be properly sympathetic, while Phyllis slipped back to her room, as she
had been told to do.

She found Weaver sitting by the window looking out. He turned his head
quickly when she entered.

"Now, if you'll kindly tell me what's doing, I'll not die of curiosity,"
he began.

"It's all your wicked men," she told him bluntly. "They have killed one
of our herders and wounded another. Mr. Keller and I met the wounded man
as he was coming back to the ranch. We stopped him and took him to a
neighbor's. If they had known, my people would have revenged themselves
on you. They are hot-blooded men, quick to strike. I was afraid--we were
both afraid of what they would do. So we planned your escape. Mr. Keller
slipped into the chaparral, and feigned an attack upon the ranch, to
draw the boys off. I had got the other key to the cabin from the nail
above father's bed. When Tom left, I came to you. That is all."

"But what am I to do here?"

"They will scour the valley and watch the pass. If we had let you go,
the chances are they would have caught you again."

"And if they had caught me, you think they would have killed me?"

"Doesn't the Bible say that he who takes the sword shall perish by the
sword? Are you a god, that you should kill when you please and expect to
escape the law that has been written?"

"You say I deserve death, yet you save my life."

"I don't want blood on the hands of my people."

"Personally, then, I don't count in the matter," said Weaver, with his
old sneer.

She had saved him, but her anger was hot against the slayers of poor
Jesus Menendez. "Why should you count? I am no judge of how great a
punishment you deserve; but my father and my brother shall not inflict
it, if I can help. They must not carry the curse of Cain on them."

"But Cain killed a brother," he jeered. "I am not a brother, but a
wolfish Amalekite. Come--the harvest is ripe. Send me forth to the
reapers."

He arose as if to go; but she was at the door before him, arms extended
to block the way.

"No, no, no! Are you mad? I tell you they will kill you to-morrow, when
the news comes."

"The judgment of the Lord upon the wicked," he answered, with his
derisive smile.

"You do nothing but mock--at your own death, at that of others. But you
shan't go. I've saved you. Your life belongs to me," she cried, a little
wildly.

"If you put it that way----"

"You know what I mean," she broke in fie