d ter him _yit_, so fur's I knows," he said,
slowly. "But ye doomed him ter death when ye flared up like thet, an'
proved ter me thet ye'd jest been lyin'."

Dorothy gave back to the wall and one hand groped with outstretched
fingers against the smoothly squared logs, while the other ripped open
the buttons of her waist and closed on the knife hilt that was always
concealed there.

Her voice came low and in a dead and monotonous level and her face was
ghost pale.

"Yes, I lied ter ye ter keep ye from goin' over thar an' murderin' him.
I knowed ther way ye fights--I hain't nuver feared ye on my own account
but I _did_ fear ye fer him ther same es a rattlesnake thet lays cyled
in ther grass."

She paused and drew a resolute breath and her words were hardly louder
than a whisper.

"Thar hain't no way on y'arth I wouldn't fight ter save him--even ef I
hed ter fight a Judas in Judas fashion. So I aimed ter keep ye hyar--an'
I kep' ye."

"Ye've kep' me thus fur," he corrected her with his swarthy face as
malevolent as had ever been that of his red-skinned ancestors. "But ye
told ther truth awhile ago--an' ye told hit a mite too previous. Ther
matter hain't ended yit."

"Yes, hit's es good es ended," she assured him with the death-like quiet
of a final resolve. "I made up my mind sometime back thet ye hed ter
die, Bas."

Slowly the right hand came out of her loosened blouse and the firelight
flashed on the blade of the dirk so tightly held that the woman's
knuckles stood out white.

"I'm goin' ter kill ye now, Bas," she said.

For a few long moments they stood without other words, the woman holding
the dirk close to her side, and neither of them noted that for the past
ten minutes the sound of the axe had been silent off there in the woods.

Then abruptly the door from the kitchen opened and Sim Squires stood
awkwardly on the threshold, with a face of wooden and vapid stupidity.
Apparently he had noted nothing unusual, yet he had looked through the
window before entering the house, and back of his unobservant seeming
lay the purpose of averting bloodshed.

"I war jest lookin' fer ye, Bas," he said with the artlessness of
perfect art. "I hollered but ye didn't answer. I wisht ye'd come out an
holp me manpower a chunk up on ther choppin' block. I kain't heft hit by
myself."

Bas scowled at the man whom he was supposed to dislike, but he followed
him readily enough out of the room, and when he had lifted the log