he walked swiftly out of the gulch and
into the straggling little town. On his way down from the claim the
blizzard had broken, or so it seemed, for the narrow valley had suddenly
become filled with a whirling smother through which he burst like a ship
through a fog. When he emerged upon the flats he saw that it was no more
than a squall and the wind was abating again.

His moccasins made no sound as he came up to his own house, and the
first inkling of his presence that the two inside received was when the
door opened and he stood before them. Something in his bearing caused
his wife to clutch at the table for support, and Barclay to retreat with
his back to the opposite wall, his hand inside his coat.

McGill never carried a weapon, having yet to feel the need of one. He
spoke now in a harsh, cracked voice. "Take your hand off that gun,
Barclay."

[Illustration: "Take your hand off that gun, Barclay."]

"What's the matter with you?" the younger man questioned.

Mrs. McGill's eyes were wide with terror, her frame racked by
apprehension, when her husband turned upon her and asked:

"Is it true? Do you love--him?" He jerked his head in Barclay's
direction. "Answer me!" he rumbled, savagely, as she hesitated.

Her lips moved, and she nodded without removing her gaze from him.

"How long have you loved him?"

When she still could not master herself, he softened his voice: "You
needn't be scared, Alice. I couldn't hurt _you_."

"A long--time," she said, finally.

McGill leveled a look at the other man.

"That's right," Barclay agreed. "You might as well know."

"They tell me that you and her had--" McGill ground his teeth, and his
little eyes blazed--"that she didn't have no right to marry
without--telling me something about you."

The former answered through white lips: "Well? Everybody knew it except
you, and you could have found out. I'd have married her sometime,
myself, if you hadn't come along."

McGill's fingers opened slowly, at which the woman burst forth:

"No, no! Don't--do that. You can't blame him, Dan. I did it. Don't you
understand? _I'm_ the one. I loved him in 'Frisco, long before I saw
you, and I've loved him ever since. Take it out on me, if you want to,
but don't hurt him."

"I don't reckon I'd have minded it much if I'd known the truth at the
start," said McGill. "Most women have made mistakes at one time or
another, at least most of those I've known have. No, it ain't that, but
you