"Yes, Moll,—but the law does not convict a person who kills in self-defence. Didn't you understand that?" "But supposin' I wuz starvin' to death an' I stole a ham like Bud Gridley did last fall when his pa an' ma wuz sick, wouldn't that be self-defence? They put him in jail fer two months, jest fer stealin' a ham when he hadn't had nothin' to eat fer three days,—bein' crippled an' couldn't work. Wuz that fair?"
"Don't forget, Moll," said Rachel ironically, "that Henry Butts valued his ham at seventy-five cents."
"Anyhow, hit don't seem right an' fair," said Moll. "I didn't have to kill Jasper to save my life. I could ha' saved it without killin' him."
"You did perfectly right in killing him, Moll," broke in Viola warmly. "I would have done the same thing if I had been in your place."
Moll thought over this for a few seconds. "Well, maybe you might have had to do it, Miss Violy, if them fellers had got away with you as they wuz plannin' to do," she said.
Silence fell between them again, broken after a while by Moll. "They'll never ketch Pap," she said. "I guess I'll never lay eyes on him ag'in. I wuz jest wonderin' what's goin' to become of his dogs. Do you suppose anybody'll take the trouble to feed 'em?"
Toby Moxler, Jack Trentman's dealer, accosted Kenneth Gwynne at the conclusion of the first drill.
"Jack found this here letter down at the shanty this morning, Mr. Gwynne. It's addressed to you, so he asked me to hand it to you when I saw you."
Kenneth knew at once who the letter was from. He stuck it into his coat pocket, unopened.
"Tell Jack that I am very much obliged to him," he said, and walked away.