was necessary to do it in any self-defense, don't be afraid to tell it all plainly. No one would blame you. It is only this mystery that makes them want to hear the truth."
She only looked at him. Was he acting? Did he himself know nothing? The hope that it was so--that she had deceived herself--made her tremble as she had not at danger to herself. She had risen to her feet as he entered, but she swayed as if to fall, and he caught her, not knowing it was hope instead of despair that took the color from her face and left her helpless.
"Courage, 'Tana! Tell us what you can. I left you just as the moon came up. I saw you go to Mrs. Huzzard's tent. Now, where did you go after that?"
"What?" almost shouted Lyster. "You were with her when the moon rose. Are you sure?"
"Sure? Of course I am. Why?"
"And how long before that, Mr. Overton?" asked Saunders; "for that is a very important point."
"About a half-hour, I should say--maybe a little more," he answered, staring at them. "Now, what important thing does that prove?"
One of the men gave a cheer; three or four had come up to the door when they saw Overton, and they took the yell up with a will. Mrs. Huzzard started to run from the tent, but grew so nervous that she had to wait until Miss Slocum came to her aid.
"What in the world does it mean?" she gasped.
Saunders turned around with an honestly pleased look.
"It means that Mr. Overton here has brought word that clears Miss Rivers of being at the cabin when the murder was done--that's what it means; and we are all too glad over it to keep quiet. But why in the world didn't you tell us that, miss?"
But she did not say a word. All about Dan were exclamations and disjointed sentences, from which he could gain little actual knowledge, and he turned to Lyster, impatiently:
"Can't you tell me--can't some of you tell me, what I have cleared up for her? When was this killing supposed to be done?"
"At or a little before moonrise," said Max, his face radiant once more. "'Tana--don't you know what he has done for you? taken away all of that horribly mistaken suspicion you let rest on you. Where was she, Dan?"
"Last night? Oh, up above the bluff there--went up when the pretty red lights were in the sky, and staid until the moon rose. I came across her up there, and advised her not to range away alone; so, when she got good and ready, she walked back again, and went to the tent where you folks were. Then I struck the creek, decided I would take a run up the lake, and left without seeing any of you again. And all this time 'Tana has had a guard over her. Some of you must have been crazy."
"Well, then, I guess I was the worst lunatic of the lot," confessed Saunders. "But to tell the truth, Mr. Overton, it looks to me now as if she encouraged suspicion--yes, it does. 'Overton's knife,' said some one; but, quick as could be, she spoke up and said it was she who had it, and she didn't mind just where she left it. And as to where she was at that time, well, she just wouldn't give us a bit of satisfaction. Blest if I don't think she wanted us to suspect her."
"Oh!" he breathed, as if in understanding, and her first words swept back to him, her nervous--"Why did you come back? They suspect me!" Surely that cry was as a plea for his own safety; it spoke through eyes and voice as well as words. Some glimmer of the truth came to him.
"Come, 'Tana!" he said, and reached his hand to her. "Where is the man--Holly? I should like to go in. Will you come, too?"
She rose without a word, and no one attempted to follow them.
Mrs. Huzzard heaved a prodigious sigh of content.
"Oh, that girl Montana!" she exclaimed. "I declare she ain't like any girl I ever did see! This morning, when she was a suspected criminal, she was talky, and even laughed, and now that she's cleared, she won't lift her head to look at any one. I do wonder if that sort of queerness is catching in these woods. I declare I feel most scared enough to leave."
But Lyster reassured her.
"Remember how sick she has been; and think what a shock this whole affair has been to weak nerves," he said, for with Dan's revelations he had grown blissfully content once more, "and as for that fellow hearing voices in her cabin--nonsense! She had been reading some poem or play aloud. She is fond of reading so, and does it remarkably well. He heard her spouting in there for the benefit of Harris, and imagined she was making threats to some one. Poor little girl! I'm determined she sha'n't remain here any longer."
"Are you?" asked Mrs. Huzzard, dryly. "Well, Mr. Max, so long as I've known her, I've always found 'Tana makes her own determinations--and sticks to them, too."
"I'm glad to be reminded of that," he retorted, "for she promised me yesterday to marry me some time."
"Bless my soul!"
"If she didn't change her mind," he added, laughingly.
"To marry you! Well, well, well!" and she stared at him so queerly, that a shade of irritation crossed his face.
"Why not?" he asked. "Don't you think that a plain, ordinary man is good enough for your wild-flower of the Kootenai hills?"
"Oh, you're not plain at all, Mr. Max Lyster," she returned, "and I'll go bail many a woman who is smarter than either 'Tana or me has let you know it! It ain't the plainness--it's the difference. And--well, well! you know you've been quarreling ever since you met."
"But that is all over now," he promised; "and haven't you a good wish for us?"
"Indeed I have, then--a many of them, but you have surprised me. I used to think that's how it would end; and then--well, then, a different notion got in my head. Now that it's settled, I do hope you will be happy. Bless the child! I'll go and tell her so this minute."
"No," he said, quickly, "let her and Dan have their talk out--if she will talk to him. That fever left her queer in some things, and one of them is her avoidance of Dan. She hasn't been free and friendly with him as she used to be, and it is too bad; for he is such a good fellow, and would do anything for her."
"Yes, he would," assented Mrs. Huzzard.
"And she will be her own spirited self in a few weeks--when she gets away from here--and gets stronger. She'll appreciate Dan more after a while, for there are few like him. And so--as she is to go away so soon, I hope something will put them on their former confidential footing. Maybe this murder will be the something."
"You are a good friend, Mr. Max," said the woman, slowly, "and you deserve to be a lucky lover. I'm sure I hope so."
Within the cabin, those two of whom they spoke stood together beside the dead outlaw, and their words were low--so low that the paralyzed man in the next room listened in vain.
"And you believed that of me--of me?" he asked, and she answered, falteringly:
"How did I know? You said--you threatened--you would kill him--any man you found in here. So, when he was here dead, I--did not know."
"And you thought I had stuck that knife in him and left?"
She nodded her head.
"And you thought," he continued, in a voice slightly tremulous, "that you were giving me a chance to escape just so long as you let them suspect--you?"
She did not answer, but turned toward the door. He held his arm out and barred her way.
"Only a moment!" he said, pleadingly. "It never can be that--that I would be anything to you, little girl--never, never! But--just once--let me tell you a truth that shall never hurt you, I swear! I love you! No other word but that will tell your dearness to me. I--I never would have said it, but--but what you risked for me has broken me down. It has told me more than your words would tell me, and I--Oh, God! my God!"
She shrank from the passion in his words and tone, but the movement only made him catch her arm and hold her there. Tears were in his eyes as he looked at her, and his jaws were set firmly.
"You are afraid of me--of me?" he asked. "Don't be. Life will be hard