he's held it over me ever since you come up into this country. I was a
young fellow. Sassoon worked for my father. The cattle and sheep war
was on, north of Medicine Bend. The Peace River sheepmen raided our
place--your father was with them. He never did us no harm, but my
brother, Bay Morgan, was shot in that raid by a man name of Jennings.
My brother was fifteen years old, de Spain. I started out to get the
man that shot him. Sassoon trailed him to the Bar M, the old de Spain
ranch, working for your father."

The words fell fast and in a fury. They came as if they had been
choked back till they strangled. "Sassoon took me over there. Toward
night we got in sight of the ranch-house. We saw a man down at the
corral. 'That's Jennings,' Sassoon says. I never laid eyes on him
before--I never laid eyes on your father before. Both of us fired.
Next day we heard your father was killed, and Jennings had left the
country. Sassoon or I, one of us, killed your father, de Spain. If it
was I, I did it never knowing who he was, never meaning to touch him.
I was after the man that killed my brother. Sassoon didn't care a damn
which it was, never did, then nor never. But he held it over me to
make trouble sometime 'twixt you and me. I was a young fellow. I
thought I was revenging my brother. And if your father was killed by a
patched bullet, his blood is not on me, de Spain, and never was.
Sassoon always shot a patched bullet. I never shot one in my life. And
I'd never told you this of my own self. Nan said it was the whole
truth from me to you, or her life. She's as much mine as she is yours.
I nursed her. I took care of her when there weren't no other living
soul to do it. _She got me and herself out into this, this morning.
I'd never been caught like this if I'd had my way._ I told her 'fore
we'd been out an hour we'd never see the end of it. She said she'd
rather die in it than you'd think she quit you. I told her I'd go on
with her and do as she said--that's why we're here, and that's the
whole truth, so help me God!

"I ain't afraid of you, de Spain. I'll give you whatever you think's
coming to you with a rifle or a gun any time, anywhere--you're a
better man than I am or ever was, I know that--and that ought to
satisfy you. Or, I'll stand my trial, if you say so, and tell the
truth."

The ice-laden wind, as de Spain stood still, swept past the little
group with a sinister roar, insensible alike to its emotions and its
deadl