“All right, Jack.”
Marsh Hartwell mounted and rode away. In his heart was the sudden conviction that Molly, not Jack, was the traitor.
“But is she a traitor?” he asked himself. “We’ve treated her all wrong, and Eph King is her father. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. And Jack is just reckless enough to die rather than let any one know that she is to blame.”
Jack walked back to the doorway. Molly had just opened the door and was watching Marsh Hartwell ride away. Her head was swathed in bandages, and there was little color in her face.
“What did your father want?” she asked.
“Well, he thought we ought to run away, Molly.”
“Run away?”
Jack had not told her of the suspicions against him, nor did she know that he had seen her father.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “They think that I was the one that sent the information to your father. They’ve thrown me out, brandin’ me a traitor. And I’ll be kinda lucky if they don’t come down here in a bunch and hang me.”
“Jack, they don’t think that!”