by
hosts of witnesses. It was proved, by an intricate line of
cross-questions, that once before, on a bitter winter's night, young
Malden had pursued this girl and Dan Dean with the avowed intention of
harming them. The hot blood came to Job's face--he well remembered
that night. Then he seemed to hear the distant voice of Indian Bill
saying by the roaring Merced, "Bill forgive Mono Indian;" and, sitting
there with this tale pouring into the ears of the throng who looked
more and more askance at him, Job said deep in his soul, "Forgive us
our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Father, I
forgive, I forgive!"

Closer and closer they drew the web. They made Andrew Malden--poor old
man!--confess that he had heard Job say, "It was an accident," then
showed that he had denied knowing aught of Jane's death until he
reached home. Then Tom Reed took the stand. He testified that all
Jane's preference was for Dan; that she went to him when he and Job
were both so ill; that she wrote to Dan and never wrote to Job. The
old man fairly shook with rage as on the witness-stand he took every
chance to denounce the "hypocrite and 'ristocrat." Minutely he
pictured Job's coming to the valley, the heated arguments he was sure
the two had had, and how upon that awful day when Jane left him
forever, she had walked away by the side of Job Malden.

Daniel Dean was the next witness. The crowd hung breathless on his
words. Stumping up on his crutches, Dan took the chance of a lifetime
to vent his hatred of Job. Keen, shrewd, too wise to speak out
plainly, but wise enough to know the blighting influence of
suggestion, Dan talked, insinuated and lied till the nails were driven
one by one into poor Job's heart and the pain was almost more than he
could bear. Insidiously, indirectly, he gave them all to understand
that Jane Reed loved him and again and again by her actions had shown
preference for himself. Then down the aisle he passed, while the crowd
looked at him in pity, and Job felt as if he must rise and tell of the
night at Glacier Point, must vindicate the memory of Jane Reed. But
no! God knew all. Some things are too sacred to tell to any ear but
his. He must suffer and be still.

When Job went back to his lonely cell that night a boy was whistling
on the street, "I'll go with Him all the way," and Job Malden took up
the words and said them with a meaning he had never known before.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"CALVARY."