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"Mr. Fraser, there is something in this paper I want you to

explain. But tell me first when it was you shot this man

Faulkner. I mean at just what time in the fight."

"Why, I reckon it must have been just before I ducked."

"That's funny, too." She fixed her direct, fearless gaze on him.

"The evidence at the coroner's jury shows that it was in the

early part of the fight he was shot, before father and I left

you."

"No, that couldn't have been, Miss Arlie, because----"

"Because----" she prompted, smiling at him in a peculiar manner.

He flushed, and could only say that the newspapers were always

getting things wrong.

"But this is the evidence at the coroner's inquest," she said,

falling grave again on the instant. "I understand one thing now,

very clearly, and that is that Faulkner was killed early in the

fight, and the other man was wounded in the ankle near the

finish."

He shook his head obstinately. "No, I reckon not."

"Yet it is true. What's more, you knew it all the time."