صفحة 229 من 439

It was like a blow in the face to him. Not many but their

friends! And she was taking him in confidently because he was her

friend. What sort of a friend was he? he asked himself. He could

not perform the task to which he was pledged without striking

home at her. If he succeeded in ferreting out the Squaw Creek

raiders he must send to the penitentiary, perhaps to death, her

neighbors, and possibly her relatives. She had told him her

father was not implicated, but a daughter's faith in her parent

was not convincing proof of his innocence. If not her father, a

brother might be involved. And she was innocently making it easy

for him to meet on a friendly footing these hospitable,

unsuspecting savages, who had shed human blood because of the

unleashed passions in them!

In that moment, while he looked away toward Lost Valley, he

sickened of the task that lay before him. What would she think of

him if she knew?