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"What has this man done?"

"He has--broken out from--from prison."

"Where?"

"At Yuma."

"Damn you, you're snitching," interrupted the criminal in a

scream that was both wheedling and threatening.

The young man put his foot on the burly neck and calmly ground it

into the dust. Otherwise he paid no attention to him, but held

the burning eyes of the girl that stared at him from a bloodless

face.

"What was he in for?"

"For holding up a train."

She had answered in spite of herself, by reason of something

compelling in him that drew the truth from her.

"How long has he been in the penitentiary?"

"Seven years." Then, miserably, she added: "He was weak and fell

into bad company. They led him into it."

"When did he escape?"