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122 turned me from a scared kid into an outlaw—a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!"

As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Dozier, if it's pride that holds you back, look at me! I'm not proud. I'll get down there on my knees. I'll beg you to let me go and give me a chance. You can open the door and let the others look in at me while I'm beggin'. That's how little pride I have. Do you think I'd let shame keep me out of heaven?"

For heaven was the girl, and Dozier, looking into that white face and those brilliant black eyes, knew it. If he had been shaken before, he was sunk in gloom now. And then there was a last appeal, a last agony of appeal from Andrew: "Hal, you know I'm straight. You know I'm worth a chance."

The older man lifted his head at last.

"Pride won't keep you out of heaven, Andy, but pride will keep me out. And pride will send me to perdition. Andy, I can't leave the trail."

At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it were steady as rocks.

"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along