verpoweringly.

Why had she not killed Bas herself before Sim Squires came in to
interfere that day? Why had she allowed the moment to pass when a stroke
of the blade might have ended the peril?

Atavistic impulses and contradictions of her blood welled confusedly up
within her. This was her own battle and she wanted to fight it out for
herself. If Rowlett were to be executed it should be she herself who
sent him to his accounting. She was torn, as she stood there, between
her terror for the man she loved and her hatred for the other--a hatred
which clamoured for blood appeasement.

But she shook her head and sought to resolve the conflicting emotions.

"I hid ther truth from ye, Ken," she said, "because I feared fer what
mout happen ef ye found out. I wasn't affrighted of Bas fer myself--but
I war fer _you_. I knowed ye trusted him an' ef ye diskivered he war a
traitor----"

"Traitor!" the man interrupted her, passionately, "he hain't never
deluded me es ter thet since ther fust night I laid in thet thar bed
atter I'd been shot. Him an' me come ter an' understandin' then an'
thar--but he swore ter hold his hand twell we could meet man ter man,
jest ther two of us."

A bitter laugh came with his pause, then he went on: "I 'lowed you
trusted him an' I didn't seek ter rouse up no needless fears in yore
heart--but now we both knows ther truth, an' I'm startin' out d'reckly
ter sottle ther score fer all time."

Dorothy Thornton caught his shoulders and her eyes were full of
pleading.

"Ye've done built up a name fer yoreself, Ken," she urged with burning
fervour. "Hit war me thet told ye, thet day when Aaron Capper an' them
others come, thet ye couldn't refuse ter lead men--but I told ye, too,
ye war bounden ter lead 'em to'rds peace an' law. Ye've done led 'em
thetaway, Ken, an' folks trusts ye, Harpers an' Doanes alike. Now ye
kain't afford ter start in leadin' 'em wrong--ye kain't afford ter dirty
yore hands with bloodshed, Ken. Ye kain't afford ter do hit!"

The man stood off looking at her with a love that was almost awe, with
an admiration that was almost idolatry, but the obduracy persisted in
his eyes.

"Partly ye're talkin' from conscience thet don't traffic ner barter with
no evil, Dorothy," he made sober response, "an' partly, too, ye're
talkin', woman-fashion, outen a fear thet seeks ter shield yore man. I
honours both them things, but this time I hain't follerin' no fox-fire
an' I kain't be stayed.