"I am tired," the old man admitted. "Is it far to your hotel?"
"Only a little way."
"Good night," said Helen, extending her hand with a sudden light in her face which transported the trailer. "We'll meet again in the morning."
He took her hand in his with a clutch in his throat which made reply difficult; but his glance expressed the adoration which filled his heart.
Kauffman left the house, walking like a man of seventy. "My bones are not broken, but they are weary," he said, dejectedly; "I fear I am to be ill."
"Oh, you'll be all right in the morning," responded the ranger much more cheerily than he really felt.
"Is it not strange that any reasonable being should accuse my daughter and me of that monstrous deed?"
"That is because no one knows you. When the towns-folk come to know you and her they will think differently. That is why I am glad the coroner is to hold his court here in the town."
"Well, if only we are set free—We shall be set free, eh?"