er ran up the path, his spurs jingling
sharply, leaped to the porch, and the door was dashed open to show him
standing before her, sombrero in hand, his quirt dangling from his left
wrist. He was dusty and tired, but the expression on his face terrified
her, held her speechless.

"Helen!" he cried hoarsely, driving her fear deeper into her heart by
his altered voice. "Helen!" She trembled, and he made a gesture of
hopelessness and involuntarily stepped toward her, letting the door swing
shut behind him. He stood just within the room, rigidly erect, his eyes
meeting hers in the silence of strong emotion. Breathlessly she retreated
as he advanced, as if instinct warned her of what he had to tell her,
until the table was between them; and a spasm of pain flickered across
his face as he noticed it, leaving him hard and stern again, but in
his eyes was a look of despair, a keen misery which softened her and
drew her toward him even while she feared him.

The silence became unbearable and at last she could endure it no longer.
"What is it?" she breathed, tensely. "What have you to tell me?"

His eyes never wavered from her face, fascinated in despair of what he
must read there, much as he dreaded it, and he answered her from between
set lips, much as a man would pronounce his own death sentence. "I have
broken my word," he said, harshly.

"Broken your word--to me?" she asked.

"Yes."

Her face brightened and was softened by a child-like wonder, for she felt
relieved in a degree, and unconsciously she moved nearer to him. "What is
it--what have you done?"

He regarded her without appraising the change in her expression and his
reply was as harsh and stern as his first statement, accompanied by no
excuses nor words of extenuation. "I have killed a man," he said.

A shiver passed over her and her eyes went closed for a moment. The
great choice was at hand now, and in her heart a fierce, short battle
raged; on one side was arrayed her early training, all her teachings, all
regard for the ideas of law and order which she had absorbed in the East,
where human life was safeguarded as the first necessity; and on the
other was the Unwritten Law of the range as exemplified by The Orphan.
Blood, and human blood, was precious, and her early environment fought
bitterly against this regime of direct justice, so startlingly driven
into her mind by his bold, cold admission. And then, he had sinned in
this way again after he had prom