"Why wouldn't we come?" demanded the mining man bluntly. "We're here to do what we can for you."
Little wells of tears brimmed over Beatrice's lids. "I've been so worried."
"Don't you. It'll be all right." Strangely enough he felt now that it would. Her coming had brought rippling sunshine into a drab world.
"I won't now. I'm going to get evidence for you. Tell us all about it."
"Why, there isn't much to tell that you haven't read in the papers probably. He came a-shootin' and was hit by a chair."
"Was it you that hit him?"
"Wouldn't I be justified?" he asked gently.
"But did you?"
For a moment he hesitated, then made up his mind swiftly. "Yes," he told her gravely.
She winced. "You couldn't help it. How did you come to be there?"