nlight of the summer morning Wade bent his resistless
steps down toward White Slides Ranch. The pendulum had swung. The hours
were propitious. Seemingly, events that already cast their shadows
waited for him. He saw Jack Belllounds going out on the fast and furious
ride which had become his morning habit.

Columbine intercepted Wade. The shade of woe and tragedy in her face
were the same as he had pictured there in his gloomy vigil of the night.

"My friend, I was coming to you.... Oh, I can bear no more!"

Her hair was disheveled, her dress disordered, the hands she
tremblingly held out bore discolored marks. Wade led her into the
seclusion of the willow trail.

"Oh, Ben!... He fought me--like--a beast!" she panted.

"Collie, you needn't tell me more," said Wade, gently. "Go up to Wils.
Tell him."

"But I must tell you. I can bear--no more.... He fought me--hurt me--and
when dad heard us--and came--Jack lied.... Oh, the dog!... Ben, his
father believed--when Jack swore he was only mad--only trying to shake
me--for my indifference and scorn.... But, my God!--Jack meant...."

"Collie, go up to Wils," interposed the hunter.

"I want to see Wils. I need to--I must. But I'm afraid.... Oh, it will
make things worse!"

"Go!"

She turned away, actuated by more than her will.

"_Collie!_" came the call, piercingly and strangely after her.
Bewildered, startled by the wildness of that cry, she wheeled. But Wade
was gone. The shaking of the willows attested to his hurry.

* * * * *

Old Belllounds braced his huge shoulders against the wall in the
attitude of a man driven to his last stand.

"Ahuh!" he rolled, sonorously. "So hyar you are again?... Wal, tell your
worst, Hell-Bent Wade, an' let's have an end to your croakin'."

Belllounds had fortified himself, not with convictions or with
illusions, but with the last desperate courage of a man true to himself.

"I'll tell you...." began the hunter.

And the rancher threw up his hands in a mockery that was furious, yet
with outward shrinking.

"Just now, when Buster Jack fought with Collie, he meant bad by her!"

"Aw, no!... He was jest rude--tryin' to be masterful.... An' the lass's
like a wild filly. She needs a tamin' down."

Wade stretched forth a lean and quivering hand that seemed the symbol of
presaged and tragic truth.

"Listen, Belllounds, an' I'll tell you.... No use tryin' to hatch a
rotten egg! There's no good in y