"I dunno," said Hervey. "You seen to-night that I treated him plumb white. I put my cards on the table. I warned him fair and square. And that after I'd given him a week's grace. A gent couldn't do any more than that, I guess!"
He was right, in a way. At least, the whole populace of the mountains would agree that he had given Red Jim every chance to leave the ranch peaceably. And if he would not go peaceably, who could raise a finger against Hervey for throwing the man off by force?
"But something more has to be done," she said eagerly. "It has to be done!"
Hervey frowned at her.
"Look here," he said, in a more dictatorial manner than he had ever used before. "Why you so interested in this Perris?"
She hesitated, but only for an instant. What did such a thing as shame matter when the life of Perris might be saved by a confession? And certainly Hervey would not dare to proceed against Perris if she made such a confession.
"I'm interested," she said steadily, "because he—he means more to me than any other man in the world."
She saw the head of the foreman jerk back as though he had received a blow in the face.
"More'n your father?"
"In a different way—yes, more than Dad!"