on? It was
my two boys, acting under my command, who bound and gagged your
patrol, and fired the alarm. Pete brought me word of your plans. He
had spied on you in your camp. But there was very nearly disaster in
that affair. I dropped my pocketbook on the trail. It was full of
incriminating papers. I did not discover my loss till I returned my
disguise to the secret hut. You can imagine my horror at such a
discovery. It meant everything. I waited desperately, expecting it
to have been found by your men. Two days later, in a fever of
apprehension, I went to search my clothes again at the corral. I felt
it was useless. It could not be there. But my guardian angel had been
at work. It was in its place in my coat pocket. Then I knew that
Charlie was still watching over me. He had found it, and--returned
it."

Fyles nodded.

"He was on the trail that night--I saw him."

"Do you want to know the rest?" Kate went on. "Is it necessary? The
heartless game I played on you. Do you understand it now? Oh, it was a
cruel thing to do. But you drove me crazy with your suspicions, your
obstinate suspicions, of Charlie. I was determined to pursue my
ruthless course in his defense to the end. It was my only hope of
relieving Charlie of suspicion--without betraying myself. But there
were things I had not calculated on. Two things happened after I had
offered you my challenge. I made my plans, and ordered my cargo, after
telling you when and where it was to arrive. Then the two things
happened. First? Bill ran foul of Pete. Pete was drunk and insulted
Helen. Bill was there, and thrashed him soundly, and I was glad. But I
feared for mischief. He knew my plans. I talked to him, and quickly
realized my fears were well-founded. There was no help for it. I
promptly changed my plans. The cargo was to come in by water. The
escorted empty wagon by trail. I left that disposition, except that I
decided the boat should be empty, too, and, unknown to any one but
Holy Dick, I should bring in the cargo on a buckboard myself. You see,
it left me free of any chance of treachery. When you told me of Pete's
treachery I knew I had done well. Then the second thing happened,
which served me with an excuse for leaving the village, which had
become imperative to complete my change of plans. You remember. It was
the tree. You remember I feared the old superstition, and I went
to--Myrtle.

"The rest. Yes, let me tell it quickly, while I still have the
courag