n this "Oh-h-h!"

"Well," continued Jeff, gazing almost fiercely into Sadie's eyes, "my
friend found the father, and he knew that he could arrest him, or he
could earn the everlastin' gratitude of the girl by letting him
escape--and _helping_ him to escape."

"And what did your friend do?" Sadie asked quietly.

"What do you think he did, Miss Sadie?"

"Did the girl know that her father was a thief?"

"She was as innocent as Mary's little lamb."

"I don't know what your friend did," said Sadie, in a clear, emphatic
voice, "but I do know what he ought to have done. His first duty was
to his State."

Jeff stared, and then laughed.

"To his State. That's so. Yes, yes; and that's how my friend acted. He
did arrest the father, and the daughter--why, o' course, she never
spoke to him again."

"It's a sad story," said Sadie, after a pause. "I'm sorry you told it
to me to-day, because----" her voice faltered.

"Yes," said Jeff, "because----"

"Because it has been so pleasant to-day-for me, I mean."

She looked down, blushing. Jeff seized her hand. Sadie tried, not very
hard, to pull it away. Jeff felt the muscles relaxing, the slight form
swayed towards him. Suddenly he released her.

"O, my God!" he exclaimed. "You are right, I feel in all my bones
you're dead right. I ought to do my duty. I'm feeling and behaving
like a madman."

Sadie stared at him in troubled silence. She believed that in losing
his heart the poor fellow had lost his wits also. Yet she was sensible
that love for her lay at the root of his distress. And his pain, for
his suffering was pitiful to behold, puckered her brows, twisted her
lips. With a soft cry she touched timidly his shoulder.

"If you think," she smiled faintly, "that because we've only known
each other a few hours, I----"

Jeff laughed. The laugh hurt the girl, so that she shrank from him. So
engrossed were the pair that neither marked Sillett as he opened the
door of the hut. He advanced a couple of steps, smoking a pipe, and
then paused, astonished, as Jeff's next words reached him.

"Look at here," he burst out. "That story----It's my own story. I left
San Lorenzo yesterday afternoon to arrest your father. The sheriff an'
me knew he was somewhere in these foothills."

"You have come to arrest--Dad?"

"That's it."

She stared at him confusedly, trying to recall his story. Jeff waited.

"You called him a thief. Dad--a thief! How dare you? How dare you? It's
a lie, o