"I didn't know if it was anybody at all. I didn't know what to think," said I, quite candidly. "I simply found his pistol in my hand."
"Whose pistol?"
"Dan Levy's."
"Good!" she said grimly. "That makes it all the better."
"You saved my life."
"I thought you had taken his—and I'd collaborated!"
There was not a tremor in her voice; it was cautious, eager, daring, intense, but absolutely her own voice now.
"No," I said, "I didn't shoot the fellow, but I made him think I had."
"You made me think so too, until I heard what you said to him."
"Yet you never made a sound yourself."