"Of course! Did you think, when everybody else knew, you could keep it from me? Still, that isn't what I asked you. I want you to be careful." Leland looked at her, and though she saw the blood creep slowly into his face, his restraint was also evident. "Did you say that because you believed it was the correct thing, madam?" he asked. Carrie flushed, but the man, shaking her hand off his arm, laid his big mittened one upon her shoulder, and, holding her away from him, looked down on her gravely. "You will try to forgive me that. It was a trifle brutal," he said, and his voice sank. "Still, to be quite honest, I could scarcely think that any risk I ran could cause you very much anxiety." Carrie said nothing, for, with that steady gaze upon her, she could not pretend, even if her pride would have permitted her; and Leland smiled a trifle wistfully. His face was almost gentle now. "Well," he said, "you needn't force yourself to say it would, if it hurts you, and I daresay it was kindness that prompted you to try. Still, you see, I should want a good deal, and anything you didn't mean wouldn't satisfy me. After all, it would make things easier for you if I didn't come back again." The girl shivered. "You surely can't believe I would think of that?" "No," and Leland made a little gesture, which was expressive of weariness; "it was your sense of fitness that turned you against me." He let his hand fall from her shoulder. "After all, my dear, I am sorry for you." "And yourself?" "It is a little rough on me, but that can't be helped. Somehow or other I guess I can bear it." Then he stooped, and, taking one of her hands, held it between both of his before he turned and flung open the door. Carrie saw him for a moment, a tall, black figure silhouetted against the cold blue, and then he had vanished into the night. CHAPTER X HOMICIDE An almost intolerable cold had descended upon the prairie when Leland reached the coulee where Sergeant Grier was mustering his forces late at night. They were not a very strong body, three troopers of the Northwest Police, all of them rather young, two prairie farmers, Leland, Gallwey, and the Sergeant, but the latter had decided that they would be enough, for the purpose. He was aware that, in an affair of this kind, a few men who understand exactly what they have to do, and can be relied on to set about it quietly and collectedly, are apt to prove more efficient than a larger body. The unnecessary man, he knew, is usually busy getting in his comrade's way. There was also another reason which Leland had pointed out. Since his acquaintances had undertaken the business, it was advisable that they should carry it out without exposing themselves unnecessarily to the outlaws' vengeance. There were several bands of the latter acting more or less in concert, and it would lessen the risks if there were only three or four men liable to them in place of several times as many.