the men standing huddled together near the door. In a flash the
truth of the situation dawned upon her. With a look of indescribable
horror upon her face she turned upon Nick, turned upon them all with:

"You knew, Nick--you all knew you had 'im! You knew you had 'im an'
you're goin' to kill 'im! But you shan't--no, you shan't kill 'im--you
shan't--you shan't . . .!"

Once more she started in pursuit of her lover, but only to fall with her
face against the door, sobbing as if her heart would break.

Outside there was nothing in the enchanting scene to suggest finality.
Nature never was more prodigal of her magic beauties. The sun still
shone on the winter whiteness of the majestic mountains; the great arch
of sky was still an azure blue; the wild things still roamed the great
forest at will.

Life indeed was very beautiful.

Minutes passed and still the Girl wept.

A wonderful thing happened then--and as suddenly as it was
characteristic of these impulsive and tender-hearted men. In thinking
over their action long afterwards the Girl recalled how for an instant
she could believe neither her ears nor her eyes. With Sonora it was
credible, at least; but with Rance--it seemed wonderful to her even when
observed through the vista of many years. And yet, men like Rance more
often than not exhibit to the world the worst side of their nature. It
is only when some cataclysm of feeling bursts that their inner soul is
disclosed and joyously viewed by eyes which have long been accustomed to
judging them solely from the icy and impenetrable reserve which they
invariably wear.

And so it came about that Sonora--first of the two--went over to her
and laid an affectionate hand upon her shoulder.

"Why, Girl," he said, all the kindliness of his gentle nature flooding
his eyes, "the boys an' me ain't perhaps realised jest what Johnson
stood for you, an' hearin' what you said, an' seein' you prayin' over
the cuss--"

Rance's face lit up scornfully.

"The cuss?" he cut in, objecting to a term which is not infrequently
used affectionately.

"Yes, the cuss," repeated Sonora, all the vindictiveness gone from his
heart now. "I got an idee maybe God's back of this 'ere game."

The Girl's heart was beating fast; she was hoping against hope when, a
moment later, she asked:

"You're not goin' to pull the rope on 'im?"

"You mean I set him free," came from Rance, his tone softer, gentler
than anyone had heard it in some time.