"Yes! I know."
"Then listen: Taggart and Gallup and Shipton and a thousand other men are going crazy to find out! You and I can turn the whole trick if luck is good.... Why, we'll quit millionaires, Lynette!"
A shudder shot through the tortured body of old Thor. Lynette's long lashes lifted, wet with her tears.
"There are things ... beyond millions...."
"I don't get you to-day!"
"Why did you kill this dog? What good did it do you? What harm had he ever done you?"
"He was in my way. I thought, I told you, that a rifle might have been left behind. And ... it's Standing's dog, anyway! And, beyond that, no matter how you look at it, only a dog...."
"I think," said Lynette, and there was no music in her voice now and no warmth in the eyes which she lifted briefly to his, "that you had better go! Had you come, without rifle, upon Bruce Standing, at least he would have thrown his rifle away to fight with you! You know that. And ... and I am not going to go with you, having given my promise. And I'll warn you of this: If he comes back and finds you here and knows you for the man who killed Thor.... He will kill you!"
Never in all his daredevil life had Babe Deveril made pretense at striking the angelic attitude. Now, in a rush of feeling, he grew black with anger and there came a look into his eyes which put the hottest flush of all her life into Lynette's cheeks, as he cried out: