d him--that her
hands were on his shoulders--her deep eyes piercing his with a look
that meant more to him than all the earth beside. It was the fierce,
mother-look of changeless affection, the companion to that savage cry.
She held him in a pinching grip, and made sure that he was unhurt,
save for that scratch on the cheek.

"If he had killed you, Billy," she said tensely, "I'd a-gone a-muck
an' shot up th' whole of Lost Valley."

And the boy knew in his heart she spoke the solemn truth.

He slipped his hands down her arms and caught her fingers tightly.

"Stained!" his heart whispered to itself in stifling exhilaration, "in
spite of all--her first killin'--an' for me!"

Then he could bear her face no more, and turned to look at Kenset.
Half off the edge of his blanket the forest man lay with his face
buried in his hands, and beside him lay another gun, the smoke still
curling from its muzzle.

"By God!" said the rider, softly, "what's this?" and he ran forward to
pick up the weapon.

"Three of us!" he said aloud, "pepperin' him at once! Kenset, where
did you get this gun?"

But Kenset did not speak. His shoulders trembled, his dark head was
bowed to the earth.

"Answer me," said Billy, "for as sure's I live, this here's Buck
Courtrey's favourite gun--the gun with the untrue firin' pin. Look
here." And he held it toward Tharon who leaned near to look. True
enough.

In the right side of the plunger there was a small, shining nick, as
if, at some previous time, a tiny chink had been broken out of it.

"I found it where I saw Courtrey hide it that night they brought me
here," said Kenset in a muffled voice. "I crawled when the Pomo was
out in the Canons after meat."

"An' you used it--at last. I see. Not till th' last."

"No," said Kenset miserably, "not till the last."

Slowly Tharon knelt down beside him and put a tender arm across his
shoulders. Her face was shining--like Billy's heart.

"Mr. Kenset," she said softly, "I told you once that I was afraid you
was soft--like a woman--that you wouldn't shoot if you had a gun. An'
you said, 'You're right. I wouldn't. Not until th' last extremity.'

"What was this last extremity? Tell me. Why did you shoot when you
knew right well I'd get him myself?"

"To beat you to it!" cried the man with sudden passion, "to take the
stain myself!"

For a long moment the girl knelt there beside him and gazed unseeingly
at the inscrutable calm of the silent country.