"Do you doubt my--my good intentions toward you--my love for you?" he asked, in gentle and husky voice.
"Oh, Ben! No! No! It's that I'm afraid of your love for me! I can't bear--what I have to bear--if I see you, if I listen to you."
"Then you've weakened? You're no proud, high-strung, thoroughbred girl any more? You're showin' yellow?"
"Ben Wade, I deny that," she answered, spiritedly, with an uplift of her head. "It's not weakness, but strength I've found."
"Ahuh! Well, I reckon I understand. Collie, listen. Wils let me read your last letter to him."
"I expected that. I think I told him to. Anyway, I wanted you to know--what--what ailed me."
"Lass, it was a fine, brave letter--written by a girl facin' an upheaval of conscience an' soul. But in your own trouble you forget the effect that letter might have on Wils Moore."
"Ben!... I--I've lain awake at night--Oh, was he hurt?"
"Collie, I reckon if you don't see Wils he'll kill himself or kill Buster Jack," replied Wade, gravely.
"I'll see--him!" she faltered. "But oh, Ben--you don't mean that Wilson would be so base--so cowardly?"