CHAPTER I. If you can’t see as how there ain’t nothing in this barrack of a place to help me do the job, I can. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. “Will he die?” she asked. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind.
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