"About Doubler," he said. "He is dead."

Her surprise was genuine, and her hands trembled as the leaves of the
magazine fluttered and closed. Had the nester died since she had left his
cabin? A moment's thought convinced her that this could not be the
explanation, for assuredly she would have seen anyone who had arrived at
Doubler's cabin; she had scanned the surrounding country before and after
leaving the vicinity of the crossing and had seen no signs of anyone.
Besides, Langford's news seemed to have abided with him a long time--it
seemed to her that he had known it for hours. She could not tell why she
felt this, but she was certain that he had not received word
recently--within an hour or two at any rate--unless he had seen Dakota.

This seemed to be the secret of his knowledge, and the more she considered
the latter's excitement during her meeting with him on the trail, the more
fully she became convinced that Langford had talked to him. The latter's
anxiety to relieve her of the task of riding to Lazette for the doctor had
been spurious; he had merely wanted to be the first to carry the news of
Doubler's death to Langford, and after leaving her he had undoubtedly
taken a roundabout trail for the Double R. Possibly by this time he had
settled with Langford and was on his way out of the country.

"Dead?" she said, turning to Langford. "Who----" In her momentary
excitement she had come very near to asking him who had brought him the
news. She hesitated, for she saw a glint of surprise and suspicion in his
eyes.

"My dear girl, did I say that he had been 'killed'?"

His smile was without humor. Evidently he had expected that she had been
about to ask who had killed the nester.

He looked at her steadily, an intolerant smile playing about the corners
of his mouth. "I am aware that you have been suspicious of me ever since
you heard that I had a quarrel with Doubler. But, thank God, my dear, I
have not that crime to answer for. Doubler, however, has been
killed--murdered."

Sheila repressed a desire to shudder, and turned from Langford so that he
would not be able to see the disgust that had come into her eyes over the
discovery that in addition to being a murderer her father was that most
despicable of all living things--a hypocrite! It required all of her
composure to be able to look at him again.

"Who killed him?" she asked evenly.

"Dakota, my dear."

"Dakota!" She pronounced the name abstractedly, for