Youth is resilient. Sheba awoke rested and ready for work.
While Gordon was untangling the dogs she was left alone for a minute with the mine-owner.
The hungry look in his eyes touched her. Impulsively she held out her hand.
"You're going to be fair, aren't you, Mr. Macdonald? Because you—don't like him—you won't—?"
He looked straight into the dark, appealing eyes. "I'm going to be fair to Robert Milton," he told her harshly. "I'm going to see his murderers hanged if it costs me every dollar I have in the world."
"None of us object to justice," she told him proudly. "Gordon has nothing to fear if only the truth is told."
"Then why come to me?" he demanded.
She hesitated; then with a wistful little smile, spoke what was in her heart. "I'm afraid you won't do justice to yourself. You're good—and brave—and strong. But you're very willful and set. I don't want to lose my friend. I want to know that he is all I have believed him—a great man who stands for the things that are fine and clean and just."
"Then it is for my sake and not for his that you want me to drop the case against Elliot?" he asked ironically.
"For yours and for his, too. You can't hurt him. Nobody can really be hurt from outside—not unless he is a traitor to himself. And Gordon Elliot isn't that. He couldn't do such a thing as this with which you charge him. It is not in his nature. He can explain everything."