"Landed?" The man's face showed his bewilderment.
"I know," exclaimed Bruce impulsively, "I'll explain. You're Timmie—Timmie—" he hesitated. "Well, anyway, that's your first name. I know all about you—"
Again the man's trembling hand half-reached for the rifle.
"Then—then you have—come for me," he choked.
Bruce, realizing his mistake, hastened to correct it.
"You're mistaken," he said quickly. "We haven't come for you in the way you mean. You won't need to go a step with us unless that is your wish. Timmie, we're here to help you; to tell you that you were forgiven long ago."
"Is—is that true?" The man faltered. "The logging company?"
"The partners are dead. Their only heir, La Vaune, forgives you."
"And the Province, the Red Riders?"
"The Province forgot the case years ago."
"Thank—thank God!" The man choked, then turned to hide his face. He faced them again in a moment and spoke steadily. "I've got the money here in the cabin, every cent of it. God knows I didn't mean to do it. But the temptation was too great. And—and once I had done it, I was afraid to go back. I would have died in prison. How did you come? Are you going back? Will you take the money to the little girl, La Vaune?"