"The water," he said faintly.
Glen gave him a damp cloth. Jim bathed the shirt, near his breast. For the first time Glen noticed a deep red mark.
"That's better," said Jim, as he felt the shirt give, and pulled it off. Then he went on, "He did that with his knife, and I shot him."
"It served him right," returned Glen.
"We quarrelled, not for the first time. He said brutal things to me, and called me names no man would stand, so I struck him between the eyes. He whipped out his knife, and I had it before I could think. I pulled my revolver from my belt, and shot him through the heart. He fell like a log. I left him there. I never even looked at him, but came on here."
"Why did you come here?"
"Because I thought I could depend upon you, and you would give me good advice. I didn't tell you at first, because of her. One thing at a time's enough."
"You can depend upon me. I'll help you if there's trouble, but no one knows you shot him, and there'll not be much fuss made over him," declared Glen.
The woman opened her eyes, and looked at them. Then a faint smile spread over her face.
"Are you better?" asked Glen.