He shook him again and leaned forward, face close to face.
"No, I don't see that it makes any difference," Lynch said slowly, a hard calm covering his roused emotions.
Bayard drew back a step and a quick flush swept into his cheeks.
"But I sent him here, Benny; knowin' you were waitin'. It's my fault if he—"
"You sent him?"
"Yes, I drove him out here! He might never have come back, if it hadn't been for me. I ... Nobody else knows this, Benny; maybe nobody ever will but you, but I've got to make you understand. He ... She ... His wife's been in town a month. She come out here to throw herself away on that rat, when she don't ... when she hates him.
"I can't tell you all of it, but yesterday he saw her for th' first time.
"He must have raised hell with her ... because of me, because I've known she was out here and didn't tell him. He took her away an' she ... sent for me....
"Don't you see that I'm to blame? Hell, it's no use hidin' it; he took her off to get her away from me! He's bringin' her here, th' nearest place to a home he's got. If 't wasn't for me, he wouldn't have started for this place; he'd stayed there. Don't you see, Benny, that I'm drivin' him into your hands. You may be justified in killin', but I ain't justified ... in helpin' you!"
"If it's that way ... between she an' you ... you'd ought to be glad....'