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Her fearless level eyes met squarely his shifty ones and read

there something she could dread without understanding, something

that was an undefined sacrilege of her sweet purity. For

woman-like her instinct leaped beyond reason.

"Take down your arm," she ordered.

"Oh, I don't know, sis. I reckon your brother--"

"You're no brother of mine," she broke in. "At most it is an

accident of birth I disown. I'll have no relationship with you of

any sort."

"Is that why you're driving with me to Mexico?" he jeered.

"I made a mistake in trying to save you. If it were to do over

again I should not lift a hand."

"You wouldn't, eh?"

There was something almost wolfish in the facial malignity that

distorted him.

"Not a finger."

"Perhaps you'd give me up now if you had a chance?"

"I would if I did what was right."

"And you'd sure want to do what was right," he snarled.

"Take down your arm," she ordered again, a dangerous glitter in

her eyes.