ith his eyes still
downcast be said in painful fragments:

"One word only--only a word and I'm not going to say anything in defence
of myself. For it's all true--everything is true except that I would
have stolen from you. I _am_ called Ramerrez; I _have_ robbed; I _am_ a
road agent--an outlaw by profession. Yes, I'm all that--and my father
was that before me. I was brought up, educated, thrived on thieves'
money, I suppose, but until six months ago when my father died, I did
not know it. I lived much in Monterey--I lived there as a gentleman.
When we met that day I wasn't the thing I am to-day. I only learned the
truth when my father died and left me with a rancho and a band of
thieves--nothing else--nothing for us all, and I--but what's the good of
going into it--the circumstances. You wouldn't understand if I did. I
was my father's son; I have no excuse; I guess, perhaps, it was in
me--in the blood. Anyhow, I took to the road, and I didn't mind it much
after the first time. But I drew the line at killing--I wouldn't have
that. That's the man that I am, the blackguard that I am. But--" here he
raised his eyes and said with a voice that was charged with feeling--"I
swear to you that from the moment I kissed you to-night I meant to
change, I meant to--"

"The devil you did!" broke from the Girl's lips, but with a sound that
was not unlike a sob.

"I did, believe me, I did," insisted the man. "I meant to go straight
and take you with me--but only honestly--when I could honestly. I meant
to work for you. Why, every word you said to me to-night about being a
thief cut into me like a knife. Over and over again I have said to
myself, she must never know. And now--well, it's all over--I have
finished."

"An' that's all?" questioned the Girl with averted face.

"No--yes--what's the use . . .?"

The Girl's anger blazed forth again.

"But there's jest one thing you've overlooked explainin', Mr. Johnson.
It shows exactly what you are. It wasn't so much your bein' a road agent
I got against you. It's this:" And here she stamped her foot excitedly.
"You kissed me--you got my first kiss."

Johnson hung his head.

"You said," kept on the Girl, hotly, "you'd ben thinkin' o' me ever
since you saw me at Monterey, an' all the time you walked straight off
an' ben kissin' that other woman." She shrugged her shoulder and laughed
grimly. "You've got a girl," she continued, growing more and more
indignant. "It's that I've got agai