"I expected you'd say that," was the calm retort. "Let it go that way if you prefer. I don't mind. What I want to do is to help you to get away."
"Even if I am guilty."
"Yes."
"But why?"
"Because you're sick and in a trap; because I—I—well—" she faltered, her lips trembling, "I just can't bear to have that mean little sheriff who's after you catch you."
"What's that?"
Startled, Heath sat up.
"That wretched Elisha Winslow who came here this morning with Eleazer Crocker tagging at his heels. In some way they had found out about the jewels and where you had hidden them. Prying into other people's affairs, no doubt, when they would have much better minded their own business. Well, it doesn't matter how they found out. They know the truth, which is the important thing. They even attempted to come upstairs and arrest you post haste; but Marcia wouldn't allow it."
"Marcia!" he spoke the name softly. "She heard the story, too?"
"Of course."