"Thar was a fight, miss, an' the old man who ran out atween the Injuns went down."
"Oh! Is he dead?"
"Can't tell fer sartin."
"But did no one go to help him?"
"Yes, me pardner leaped out like a wildcat, an'—oh, well."
"He was shot, too," Madeline interrupted, as Dan floundered around in an attempt to find some suitable word. "Don't be afraid to tell me. I saw it in your face."
"Why bless ye, miss, so ye did. I never thought of that. It's wonderful what sharp eyes some people have."
"So you left him there, did you, without trying to find out whether he was dead or alive, and came away?"
Across Dan's face spread a crimson flush. Madeline's words cut deeper than she imagined. Did she think that he was a coward and would leave a partner to die? He had been accused of many things in the past, but never of that! How he loathed even the name. And here was this beautiful woman standing before him with flashing eyes saying as much.
Madeline saw the injured look upon his face, and hastened to explain.