Slim appeared to agree to the surrender of Jack to Buck and his punchers, permitting them to deal with him as they saw fit. He fumbled in his left-hand waistcoat pocket, pulling out a bag of tobacco and a package of rice paper. Ostentatiously he began to roll a cigarette.

Then, with the quickness of a cat, his left hand was plunged in the inside right-hand pocket of his waistcoat. Grasping a revolver by the muzzle he deftly jerked it upward, and seized the handle in its flight.

He covered Buck McKee before that worthy realized what had happened.

With his right hand Slim pulled the weapon which swung at his hip, and aimed it at the other boys of the Lazy K. The guns moved up and down the line, backed by the Sheriff's usually mild blue eyes, coldly steady now at the call to battle.

"I'll give you a lesson in pullin' guns, though," he declared, his voice as steady as his hands. "Don't move, Buck," he warned, as McKee wavered. "Nor any others of you. I'm playin' this hand alone. Buck McKee, you've been flirtin' with a tombstone for some time. Hands up, gents," he ordered, raising the pistols significantly.

"I said GENTS," he repeated, when Buck McKee did not obey him with alacrity. The balked leader of the Lazy K outfit reluctantly held his hands aloft.

"Sage-brush!" called Slim.

"Here," answered the foreman, covering a man with his revolver.

"Parenthesis!" summoned the Sheriff.

"Here," the man of the bowlegs replied, as he drew his gun.

"Me, too," cried Fresno, while Show Low came to the front with "An'

likewise here."

When the Lazy K outfit was thoroughly under subjection, Slim stepped forward and said: "Now, gentlemen, if you please. You see, this yere's my party an' I regalate it my way. Jack here gave his word to stay and face this thing out. He's a-goin' to do it. I'm responsible for him--Sage-brush, you will collect at the door sech articles of hardware as these gentlemen has in their belts--I deputize you. Gents, as you walk out the do', you will deposit yo' weapons with Mr.

Sage-brush Charley--the same to be returned to you when the court sees fit and proper."

"You ain't goin' to let him--" Buck did not finish the sentence, for Slim, thoroughly aroused, shouted: "Buck McKee, if you say another word, I'm goin' to kill you. Gents, there's the door--your hosses are in the corral--get."

Preceded by some of the Sweet.w.a.ter boys, the Lazy K outfit filed out, Sage-brush taking their guns as they pa.s.sed him. Fresno and Parenthesis brought up the rear.

"He needn't think he'll escape. We're bound to have him," declared Buck.

"Are you goin'?" demanded Slim, his voice full of menace.

"Can't you see me?" sneered Buck.

Sage-brush relieved him of his gun as he pa.s.sed, handing it to Fresno.

Buck paused in the doorway long enough to lament: "Talk of hospitality. I never get in but what I am put out."

Slim watched McKee from the window until he disappeared through the gate of the corral. Then walking down to Jack, he took him by the hand.

"It'll be all right in an hour--thank you, boys," Payson a.s.sured them.

"We all know you are the whitest man on the Sweet.w.a.ter," a.s.sured Sage-brush, speaking for the punchers, as they left Jack a prisoner with Slim.

Speaking in a low tone, Jim asked Jack: "Where did you get that money?"

"Don't you know?" he asked, in surprise.

"From--"

Jack nodded his head.

"I'll wait for you in the other room," said Slim.

"Maw, Polly, we all better leave 'em alone."

As the woman and the girl left the room, the old ranchman paused at the doorway, leading to the kitchen, to advise his son-in-law earnestly: "I 'low you better tell her; it's best."

The two young people were left alone in the room in which they had pa.s.sed so many happy hours to face a crisis in their lives. The day which had begun sunnily was to end in darkest clouds. The awful accusation was incredible to Echo. Her faith in her husband was not shaken. Jack, she felt, could explain. But, no matter what the outcome might be, she would be loyal to the man she loved. On this point she was wholly confident. Had she not pledged her faith at the marriage altar?

"Jack?" a volume of questions was in the word. Taking her hands in his and looking searchingly in her eyes, he said:

"Before I tell you what's been on my mind these many weeks--I want to hold you in my arms and hear you say: 'Jack, I believe in you.'"

Echo put her arms about his neck and, nestling close to his breast, declared: "I do believe in you--no matter what circ.u.mstances may be against you. No matter if all the world calls you guilty--I believe in you, and love you."

Jack seated himself at the table, and drew his wife down beside him.

Putting his arms about her as she knelt before him, he murmured: "You're a wife--a wife of the West, as fair as its skies and as steadfast as its hills--and I--I'm not worthy--"

"Not worthy--you haven't--it isn't--" gasped Echo, starting back from him, thinking that Jack was about to confess that under some strange stress of circ.u.mstances he had slain the express-agent.

"No, it isn't that," hastily answered Jack, with a shudder at the idea.

"I've lied to you," he simply confessed.

"Lied to me--you?" cried Echo, in dismay.

"I've been a living lie for months," relentlessly continued Jack, nerving himself for the ordeal through which he would have to pa.s.s.

"Jack," wailed Echo, shrinking from him on her knees, covering her face with her hands.

"It's about d.i.c.k."

Echo started. Again d.i.c.k Lane had arisen as from out the grave.

"What of him?" she asked, rising to her feet and moving away from him.

"He is alive."

Jack did not dare look at his wife. He sat with his face white and pinched with anguish.

The young wife groaned in her agony. The blow had fallen. d.i.c.k alive, and she now the wife of another man? What of her promise? What must he think of her?

"I didn't know it until after we were engaged," pursued Jack; "six months. It was the day I questioned you about whether you would keep your promise to d.i.c.k if he returned. I wanted to tell you then, but the telling meant that I should lose you. He wrote to me from Mexico, where he had been in the hospital. He was coming home--he enclosed this letter to you."

Jack drew from his pocket the letter which d.i.c.k enclosed in the one which he had sent Jack, telling of his proposed return.

She took the missive mechanically, and opened it slowly.

"I wanted to be square with him--but I loved you," pleaded Jack. "I loved you better than life, than honor--I couldn't lose you, and so--"

His words fell on unheeding ears. She was not listening to his pleadings. Her thoughts dwelt on d.i.c.k Lane, and what he must think of her. She had taken refuge at the piano, on which she bowed her head within her arms.