“They don’t know you were up there,” said Rathburn softly. “Your boy’s clothes fooled them, if they saw you at all. They probably thought I was carrying Sautee down the trail, for they found Sautee up there in the powder house with me.”
The girl sobbed again. Her eyes were red with weeping.
“Listen, ma’am,” said Rathburn gently. “I picked these up from the road the day the truck driver was held up.” He brought out two hairpins from his coat pocket.
“It set me to thinking, ma’am, an’ was one reason why I stayed over here to find out what was goin’ on. Maybe I’ve done wrong, ma’am, but I was hoping I’d be doin’ you a favor. I saw the look in your eyes the day Carlisle was talkin’ to you when you was on the hoss. I know you helped him in his holdups, dressed like a boy, but I figured you didn’t do it because you wanted to.”
“No––no––no!” sobbed the girl.
“All right; fine, little girl. No one knows anything about it but me, an’ I’m goin’ away. But, listen, girlie, just what was Carlisle to you?”
A spasm of weeping shook the girl. “Nothing I could help,” she sobbed. “He––I had to do as he said––because––oh, I hate him. I hate him!”
“There, there,” soothed Rathburn. “I suspected as much, girlie.”
“He made my father a bad man,” sobbed the girl; “an’ made me go with him or my father would have to go––to––to go–––”
“Never mind, girlie,” Rathburn interrupted softly. “I don’t want to hear the story. Just keep it to yourself 177 an’ start all over. It ain’t a bad world, girlie, an’ there’s more good men in it than there’s bad. Now, you can begin to live and be happy like you ought. Carlisle won’t worry you no more.”