"Professional—thieves, robbers!"
And still Elizabeth refused to wince. She forced a cold, polite smile of attention.
"He went into a town and killed the best fighter they had."
And even this blow did not tell.
"And then he defied the sheriff, went back to the town, and broke into a bank and stole fifty thousand dollars."
The smile wavered and went out, but still the dull eyes of Elizabeth were steady enough. Though perhaps that dullness was from pain. And Kate, waiting eagerly, was chagrined to see that she had not broken through to any softness of emotion. One sign of grief and trembling was all she wanted before she made her appeal; but there was no weakness in Elizabeth Cornish, it seemed.
"You see I am listening," she said gravely and almost gently. "Although I am really not well. And I hardly see the point of this long recital of crimes. It was because I foresaw what he would become that I sent him away."
"Miss Cornish, why'd you take him in in the first place?"
"It's a long story," said Elizabeth.
"I'm a pretty good listener," said Kate.