best I can do for you now."

"Yes, it's the best," she admitted. "Don't worry about me. I was going
to leave here anyway. I'm going to do something, I don't know just what.
But ever since father died I've known I couldn't go on as we've been
going. You've made an awful mess of things--you boys. I've seen you
going down hill--from bad to worse--losing your self-respect and that of
others, falling lower and lower, till it has come to--this.

"And I've gone downhill myself. I've lived on money, knowing how it was
obtained, and saying nothing. I'm not preaching. I'm not finding fault.
But I'm through. And I'm through with you boys unless you change. Of the
whole lot, you're the only one I care anything about. I don't know if
you care anything about me, but if you do you're the only one who does.
You've always been fair and decent to me, anyway, I--I'd loved you--if
you'd let me."

"Damn it, Kit," her brother replied, "why didn't you say something like
that before? I've been fond of you ever since you were a baby, but you
never let me see you thought anything more of me than the other
boys--and that was mighty little. Well--what you say is true. I'm a
rotten bad lot, but all the same I'm just about as sick of the show as
you are. And I'll tell you this much: If I can get clear now I'll make a
fresh start--I've been thinking of the Argentine--and if you'll go with
me, I'd like it."

"I'll go," she promised. "But suppose you don't get clear?"

The big man shrugged his shoulders. "Then I lose out. I'm not going to
rot in the pen. You can say a little prayer if you feel like it."

She stared at him, somber-eyed. "I suppose that's the best way, after
all."

"The only way. And now I must rustle an outfit."

"I'll be down in a minute," she said.

She came down to the apparent confusion of their preparations. Each had
drawn on his personal outfit. Gerald and Larry nodded to her. She said
little, made no reproaches, helping them silently, swiftly. Suddenly
Larry paused, throwing up his head, lifting his hand. Upon the sudden
silence burst the sound of swift hoofs. The brothers looked at each
other.

"Go upstairs, Kit," said Gavin, "and stay there."

But in a moment it was evident that there was but one horse. The door
was tried, shaken. A furious oath came from outside.

"It's just Blake," said Larry, and unfastened the door.

Blake stared at his brothers, at their weapons, at the outfit piled in
the room.

"What's