had reason to doubt
the guilt of the Captain, in spite of the verdict of the jury that
condemned him. In fact, I knew at the time, although it was not in my
power to prove it, that the two principal witnesses against Nolan lied.
I thought I could guess why, but we drifted apart, and finally I lost
all track of every one connected with the affair. Then I happened to
pick up that girl down in the canyon beyond the Bear Water, and pulled
her out alive just because she chanced to be of that sex, and I could
n't stand to see her fall into Indian clutches. I did n't feel any
special interest in her at the time, supposing she belonged to Old
Gillis, but she somehow grew on me--she's that kind, you know; and when
I discovered, purely by accident, that she was Captain Nolan's girl,
but that it all had been kept from her, I just naturally made up my
mind I 'd dig out the truth if I possibly could, for her sake. The
fact is, I began to think a lot about her--not the way you do, you
understand; I'm getting too old for that, and have known too much about
women,--but maybe somewhat as a father might feel. Anyhow, I wanted to
give her a chance, a square deal, so that she would n't be ashamed of
her own name if ever she found out what it was."

He paused, his eyes filled with memories, and passed his hand through
his uncovered hair.

"About that time I fell foul of Murphy and Slavin there in Glencaid,"
he went on quickly, as if anxious to conclude. "I never got my eyes on
Murphy, you know, and Slavin was so changed by that big red beard that
I failed to recognize him. But their actions aroused my suspicions,
and I went after them good and hard. I wanted to find out what they
knew, and why those lies were told on Nolan at the trial. I had an
idea they could tell me. So, for a starter, I tackled Slavin,
supposing we were alone, and I was pumping the facts out of him
successfully by holding a gun under his nose, and occasionally jogging
his memory, when this fellow Murphy got excited, and _chasseed_ into
the game, but happened to nip his partner instead of me. In the course
of our little scuffle I chanced to catch a glimpse of the fellow's
right hand, and it had a scar on the back of it that looked mighty
familiar. I had seen it before, and I wanted to see it again. So,
when I got out of that scrape, and the doctor had dug a stray bullet
out of my anatomy, there did n't seem to be any one left for me to
chase excepting Murp