"If you lie to me I'll take it out on your folks. Don't forget that Jack Flatray will have to pay if you double-cross me." "No." "He'll have to pay in full." "You mean you'll capture him again." "I mean we won't have to do that. We haven't turned him loose yet." "Then you lied to me?" She stared at him with wide open eyes of horror. "I had to keep him to make sure of you." Her groan touched his vanity, or was it perhaps his pity? "I'm not going to hurt him--if you play fair. I tell you I'm no cur. Help me, girl, and I'll quit this hell raising and live decent." She laughed without joy, bitterly. "Oh, I know what you think," he continued. "I can't blame you. But what do you know about my life? What do you know about what I've had to fight against? All my life there has been some devil in me, strangling all the good. There has been nobody to give me a helping hand--none to hold me back. I was a dog with a bad name--good enough for hanging, and nothing else." He was holding the gate, and perforce she had to hear him out. "What do I care about that?" she cried, in a fierce gust of passion. "I see you are cur and coward! You lied to me. You didn't keep faith and free Jack Flatray. That is enough." She was the one person in the world who had power to wound him. Nor did it hurt the less that it was the truth. He drew back as if the lash of a whip had swept across his face. "No man alive can say that to me and live!" he told her. "Cur I may be; but you're my wife, 'Lissie MacQueen. Don't forget that." "Go! Go!" she choked. "I hope to God I'll never see your face again!" She flew along the grass-bordered walk, whipped open the front door, and disappeared within. She turned the key in the lock, and stood trembling in the darkness. She half expected him to follow, to attempt to regain possession of her. But the creak of his quick step on the porch did not come. Only her hammering heart stirred in the black silence. She drew a long breath of relief, and sank down on the stairs. It was over at last, the horrible nightmare through which she had been living. Gradually she fought down her fears and took hold of herself. She must find her father and relieve his anxiety. Quietly she opened the door of the hall into the living room. A man sat at the table, with his back to her, in an attitude of utter dejection. He was leaning forward, with his head buried in his arms. It was her father. She stepped forward, and put her hands on his bowed shoulders. "Daddy," she said softly. At her touch the haggard, hopeless, unshaven face was lifted toward her. For a moment Lee looked at her as if she had been a wraith. Then, with a hoarse cry, he arose and caught her in his arms. Neither of them could speak for emotion. He tried it twice before he could get out: "Baby! Honey!" He choked back the sobs in his throat. "Where did you come from? I thought sure MacQueen had you." "He had. He took me to Dead Man's Cache with him."