"No, it's the truth. I was sorry for you and helped you because—well, because of the old times. But everybody has misunderstood, even Miss Dabney."
Silence again; the silence of the high mountain plateau and the whispering pines. Then she asked softly:
"Was you aimin' to marry her, Tom-Jeff?"
His voice was somber. "I've never had the beginning of a chance; and besides, she is promised to another man."
The woman was breathing hard again. "I heerd about that, too—jest the other day. I don't believe hit!"
"It is true, just the same. But I didn't come out here to talk about Miss Dabney. I want to know a name—the name of a man."
She shook her head again and relapsed into unresponsiveness.
"I cayn't tell; he'd shore kill me. He's always allowed he'd do hit if I let on."
"Tell me his name, and I'll kill him before he ever gets a chance at you," was the savage rejoinder.
"D'ye reckon you'd do that, Tom-Jeff—for me?"