“I do!––not half, but a hundred times more!”
“Yes, you do?”
“I swear it! I’d do anything for her!”
“Except save her from him.”
“No, no! How can I? Tell me how!”
The puncher bent nearer to the half-frenzied man. “You’re going down that gulch with him. Suppose a spike gets knocked out or a rope breaks or a loose rock gets pushed over?”
“God!” cried Ashton, putting his hands over his eyes. “That would be murder!”
“Bah! You’d make a dog sick! Willing to do anything for her––except save her from him! And nothing to it but just an accident that’s just as like as not to happen anyway.”
“But––murder!” shudderingly muttered Ashton.
“Murder a skunk,” sneered Gowan. “If saving her from him isn’t a case of justifiable homicide, what is? Don’t you get the idea? Just a likely accident, down there where nobody can see.”