"I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I swear to God I didn't. It was her. She done it,—Moll done it!" he squealed in abject terror.
He was grabbed by strong hands and jerked to his feet. While others held him, the sheriff and several of the men rushed into the cabin.
Off at the edge of the clearing stood Rachel Carter and Isaac Stain, watching the scene at the door.
"One look will be enough," the woman had said tersely. "Twenty years will not have changed Simon Braley much. I will know him at sight."
"You got to be sure, Mrs. Gwyn," muttered the hunter. "Ef you got the slightest doubt, say so."
"I will, Isaac."
"And ef you say it's him, fer sure an' no mistake, I'll foller him to the end of the world but what I git him."
"If it is Simon Braley he will make a break for cover. He is not like that whimpering coward over yonder. And the sheriff will make no attempt to bring him down. There is no complaint against him. No one knows that he is Simon Braley."
"Well, I'll be on his heels," was the grim promise of Isaac Stain, thinking of the sister who had been slain by Braley's Indians down on the River White.
One of the men rushed out of the cabin. He was vastly excited.