And the evening and the morning were the second day. At a time when, through the diffused and fading light of the sun-vacant sky, the silver-pale stars blinked one by one in their awakening; when the protesting twitter of disturbed birds seeking their rest sounded sweetly clear above the steady rumble of the marshland frogs; when the velvet-footed killers stretched and yawned and gazed with dilated pupils at the near approach of night; when the men who persuaded luck to their advantage, in various ways, began to gather about the tables in cow-town and mining-camp, and there was a lighting of lamps by the foresighted and a trimming of wicks by the procrastinators—the French Rose faced her father, Jean, and did battle for love and happiness, though she knew it not. The easy-going Jean had known nothing of the manner in which their guest was wounded, nor by whom; and Rose had not thought it wise to tell him, even if it occurred to her in the stress of that first day. But Jean had heard many rumors in Twin River, many disquieting facts and equally disturbing inferences. He had hurried home beset with fears for the outcome, alarmed at the reckless step Rose had taken and vainly asking himself why. Immediately upon his entry he had set Pickles at a task which would occupy him away from the cabin. Standing moodily at the window he watched him go. Then he turned to his daughter for an explanation. "Is Dave here yesterday?" he asked. "Yes," replied Rose, non-committally. Jean turned over in his mind this new fact and fitted it into the pattern. "For why you go so fast to Twin?" he questioned. "No one is here but me. Fritz, he go to the Two Y’s ranch." "You tell him?" "No. He hear Dave talk an’ go to tell M’sieu Peters Dave have stole all his money." "_Diable_! Steal?" "Yes." Jean knitted his brows in the effort to understand the reason for this; quite naturally he came back in a circle to his first inquiry and repeated it: "For why you go to Twin?" "I go for men to catch Dave when he steal the money." This, while not strictly true, was the nearest to truth that Jean could understand. The trend of his thoughts was shown by his next question. "Dave—he know?" he asked, and his anxiety was apparent. "Yes," was the brief answer. "_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Jean. He turned from her and stared with unseeing eyes over the land he had struggled hard to make his own. And now he must lose it. Rapidly calculating how long his slender resources would support him until Rose could dispose of his stock and follow, despair came upon him as he realized that the vengeance of Dave was not to be escaped. "For why," he asked, hoarsely, "for why you do this?"