He had his answer in the gray faces, in the lips that fear made mute.
Like a flash Belding saw the whole truth of Mrs. Belding's agony, the
reason for her departure; he saw what had been driving Nell; and it
seemed that all the dogs of hell were loosed within his heart. He
struck out blindly, instinctively in his pain, and the blow sent Ben
Chase staggering into the fence corner. Then he stretched forth a long
arm and whirled Radford Chase back beside his father.

"I see it all now," went on Belding, hoarsely. "You found the woman's
weakness--her love for the girl. You found the girl's weakness--her
pride and fear of shame. So you drove the one and hounded the other.
God, what a base thing to do! To tell the girl was bad enough, but to
threaten her with betrayal; there's no name for that!"

Belding's voice thickened, and he paused, breathing heavily. He
stepped back a few paces; and this, an ominous action for an armed man
of his kind, instead of adding to the fear of the Chases, seemed to
relieve them. If there had been any pity in Belding's heart he would
have felt it then.

"And now, gentlemen," continued Belding, speaking low and with
difficulty, "seeing I've turned down your proposition, I suppose you
think you've no more call to keep your mouths shut?"

The elder Chase appeared fascinated by something he either saw or felt
in Belding, and his gray face grew grayer. He put up a shaking hand.
Then Radford Chase, livid and snarling, burst out: "I'll talk till I'm
black in the face. You can't stop me!"

"You'll go black in the face, but it won't be from talking," hissed
Belding.

His big arm swept down, and when he threw it up the gun glittered in
his hand. Simultaneously with the latter action pealed out a shrill,
penetrating whistle.

The whistle of a horse! It froze Belding's arm aloft. For an instant
he could not move even his eyes. The familiarity of that whistle was
terrible in its power to rob him of strength. Then he heard the rapid,
heavy pound of hoofs, and again the piercing whistle.

"Blanco Diablo!" he cried, huskily.

He turned to see a huge white horse come thundering into the yard. A
wild, gaunt, terrible horse; indeed, the loved Blanco Diablo. A
bronzed, long-haired Indian bestrode him. More white horses galloped
into the yard, pounded to a halt, whistling home. Belding saw a slim
shadow of a girl who seemed all great black eyes.

Under the trees flashed Blanco Sol, as daz