And what could the Law do for me?
Publish our shame and perhaps brand me that wretched thing—the willingly deceived and complaisant husband.
What could I do by challenging Burker?
He was a champion man-at-arms, a fine boxer, and a younger, stronger man, I should merely experience humiliation and defeat. What could I do?
If I said, "Go and live with your Burker," I should be committing a bigger crime than hers, for if he did take her in, it would not be for long.
I sat the night through, pondered the question carefully, looked at it from all points of view and—decided that Burker must die. Also that he must not drag me to jail or the scaffold as he went to his doom. If I shot him and was punished, Dolores would become a—well, as I have said, her soul would die quickly and her body slowly. I had married Dolores and I must do what lay in my power to protect Dolores. But I simply could not kill the hound in some stealthy secret manner and wait for the footsteps of warrant-armed police for the rest of my life.
What could I do? Or rather—for the question had narrowed to that—how could I kill him?
And as the sun struck upon my eyes at dawn, an idea struck upon my mind.
I would leave it to Fate and if Fate willed it so, Burker should die.
If Burker stood behind my charger, Fate sat with down-turned thumb.