"I don't know what your friend did," said Sadie, in a clear, emphatic voice, "but I do know what he ought to have done. His first duty was to his State." Jeff stared, and then laughed. "To his State. That's so. Yes, yes; and that's how my friend acted. He did arrest the father, and the daughter--why, o' course, she never spoke to him again." "It's a sad story," said Sadie, after a pause. "I'm sorry you told it to me to-day, because----" her voice faltered. "Yes," said Jeff, "because----" "Because it has been so pleasant to-day-for me, I mean." She looked down, blushing. Jeff seized her hand. Sadie tried, not very hard, to pull it away. Jeff felt the muscles relaxing, the slight form swayed towards him. Suddenly he released her. "O, my God!" he exclaimed. "You are right, I feel in all my bones you're dead right. I ought to do my duty. I'm feeling and behaving like a madman." Sadie stared at him in troubled silence. She believed that in losing his heart the poor fellow had lost his wits also. Yet she was sensible that love for her lay at the root of his distress. And his pain, for his suffering was pitiful to behold, puckered her brows, twisted her lips. With a soft cry she touched timidly his shoulder. "If you think," she smiled faintly, "that because we've only known each other a few hours, I----" Jeff laughed. The laugh hurt the girl, so that she shrank from him. So engrossed were the pair that neither marked Sillett as he opened the door of the hut. He advanced a couple of steps, smoking a pipe, and then paused, astonished, as Jeff's next words reached him. "Look at here," he burst out. "That story----It's my own story. I left San Lorenzo yesterday afternoon to arrest your father. The sheriff an' me knew he was somewhere in these foothills." "You have come to arrest--Dad?" "That's it." She stared at him confusedly, trying to recall his story. Jeff waited. "You called him a thief. Dad--a thief! How dare you? How dare you? It's a lie, or--or," she faltered, "or a mistake." "No mistake," said Jeff wretchedly. He had risen. Man and maid stared fiercely into each other's faces. Behind them, Sillett stood quietly observant, but his right hand stole down to his pocket. "Hold up your hands!" he said sharply. Jeff and the girl sprang apart. Sillett had levelled a pistol at the deputy-sheriff, repeating his words with one addition: "_Quick!_" Jeff raised his hands. "He carries a 'gun,'" said Sillett to his daughter. "Take it from him." She obeyed. Her face was white as milk, but not with fear. The man who held the pistol had ceased for the moment to bear any resemblance to her father, but assuredly he was the defaulter whom Jeff Wells and the sheriff sought. The expression upon his face revealed that, if nothing else. Sadie removed the pistol and brought it to Sillett. "In the hut, on a nail behind the door, is a piece of cord. Fetch it!" She fetched it.