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 to be such a good man, such a frank, kind, generous man. I can't believe he's intentionally involved with Findlay, he must have been drawn into it by some subtle plotting to get him into it. Will you be honest with me, Ed, and tell me what you've found out?"

"Very little, Alma. I only know that Findlay's holding a club over him, driving him to stand by and see the company robbed in broad daylight. He told me himself that Findlay could drag him down to disgrace, ruin him, with a word. More than that he wouldn't tell. He refused my offer to help him on any terms. It seemed to scare him."

"Then it must go on, and on!" said she, despairingly.

"It can't be very long now," he comforted her, with the portentous calmness of one certain of his hour.

Alma shook her head, the shadow of a great sadness in her eyes.

"It's natural for you to think of squaring your account with Findlay, you'd be a coward if you didn't. But you can't get at him, Ed."

"We'll not talk about it," he said, with gentle finality.

"We must. It's been growing in your heart to kill him all the time, you talked of that, and nothing else, while you had fever. Manuel said you got up one night and went looking for your gun when you heard Findlay talking in the house. Do you remember?"

"I don't remember, Alma," he said, in the same gentle, calming voice.

"He owes it to you, the law would uphold you if