, as if not knowing how easiest to put it, "you ought to be
willing to shake hands and say good-by?"

"Why, if you wish it," he answered, taken aback. And he added more
quietly, "yes, if you say so."

"I mean for good."

"I--" he returned, pausing, "don't."

"You are not willing to be fair."

"I want to be fair--I don't want to promise more than human nature
will stand for--and then break my word."

"I am not asking a whole lot."

"Not a whole lot to you, I know. But do you really mean that you don't
want me ever to speak to you again?"

"If you must put it that way--yes."

"Well," he took a long breath, "there is one way to make sure of that.
I'll tell you honestly I don't want to stand in the way of such a
wish, if it's really yours. As you have said, it isn't fair, perhaps,
for me to go against it. Got your pistol with you, Nan?"

"No."

"That is the way you take care of yourself, is it?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself not to be. And you don't even
know whom you'll meet before you can lock the front door again. You
promised me never to go out without it. Promise me that once more,
will you?" She did as he asked her. "Now, give me your hand, please,"
he went on. "Take hold of this."

"What is it?"

"The butt of my revolver. Don't be afraid." She heard the slight click
of the hammer with a thrill of strange apprehension. "What are you
doing?" she demanded hurriedly.

"Put your finger on the trigger--so. It is cocked. Now pull."

She caught her breath. "What do you mean?"

He was holding the gun in his two hands, his fingers overlapping hers,
the muzzle at the breast of his jacket. "Pull," he repeated, "that's
all you have to do; I'm steadying it."

She snatched back her hand. "What do you mean?" she cried. "For me to
kill you? Shame!"

"You are too excited--all I asked you was to take the trouble to crook
your finger--and I'll never speak to you again--you'll have your wish
forever."

"Shame!"

"Why shame?" he retorted. "I mean what I say. If you meant what you
said, why don't you put it out of my power ever to speak to you? Do
you want me to pull the trigger?"

"I told you once I'm not an assassin--how dare you ask me to do such
a thing?" she cried furiously.

"Call your uncle," he suggested coolly. "You may hold this meantime so
you'll know he's in no danger. Take my gun and call your uncle----"

"Shame on you!"

"Call Gale--call any man in the Gap