For a long time after Sheriff Warburton rode away, Dot followed him with her eyes. Not until he was but a wisp of dust in the gray distance, did she turn to reënter the house. She was considerably shaken by the ordeal, relieved that it was over. Ten thousand dollars reward, he had said. A fortune! What a*****e of untold pleasures it would buy—surcease of worry, regeneration! Thoughtfully she walked to her room and unlocked the door. The fearful eyes of the fugitive fastened on hers questioningly.
“He’s gone. It was Sheriff Warburton. He’s hunting for you—to arrest you.” She said this in quiet tones.
“I—I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Huntington,” he stammered huskily. “My—my own mother couldn’t ’a’ done more. I ain’t deservin’. I’m no good. I’ll never ferget you as long as I live.” A
