"Why, that's not for me! Where did you boys get this letter? Now tell me!" She was very much provoked with them. The soft-voiced twin smiled. "I thought you'd like to know what was in it," he remarked, in evident earnestness. "That doesn't answer my question," she said with some impatience. "_Where_ did you get it?" "We found it," replied Dave gruffly, still scowling. "And you boys bring a letter to _me_ that was intended for someone else, and _expect_ me to _read_ it!" She folded it up and handed it back to the boy. "Go and give that to whom it belongs, and remember it's very wrong to read another person's letter. Tell me where you got it. I insist upon knowing." "Oh, we just found it up on the hill last night," replied the soft-voiced twin evasively. "Why don't you tell her the whole shootin' match!" roared the blunt Dave. "You're a dandy! We found it up in the spring coulee last night near where Mr. Livingston's sheep're camped. He was up there before dark, cuttin' 'em out. This here letter dropped out of his pocket when he threw his coat on a rock up there, an' so Dan an' me an' Shorty Smith came along an' picked it up." "Mr. Livingston's," said Hope, suddenly feeling oddly alarmed. "Not _his_--you must be mistaken! Why, it began--it was too--_informal_--even for a sister, and he has no sister, he told me so!" "It's for him all right, for here's the envelope." Dan took it from his pocket and handed it to her. It left no room for doubt. It was directed to him, and bore an English postmark. He had no sister. Then it must be from his sweetheart--and he told her he had no sweetheart. A sudden pain consumed her. "I reckon it's from his wife," said the soft-voiced twin. "He has no wife," said Hope quietly. "Oh, yes, he has! That's what they say," declared the boy. "They lie," she replied softly. "I _know_ he has no wife." "I'll bet you he left her in England," said the boy. "That's what the men say." "Your repentant Helene," repeated the girl over and over to herself. Suddenly suspicion, jealousy, rage, entered her heart, setting her brain on fire. She turned to the boy like a fury. "Give me that letter!" Frightened beyond speech by the storm in her black eyes, he handed it to her and watched her as with a set face and strangely brilliant eyes she began to read. Every word branded itself upon her heart indelibly. * * * * * MY DARLING BOY: Can it be that you actually refuse to allow me to come there? Admitting I have wronged you in the past, can you not in your greatness of heart find forgiveness for a weak woman--a pleading woman---- * * * * * There at the foot of the first page the girl stopped, a sudden terror coming over her. "_What have I done!_" she cried, crushing the letter in her hand. "_What have I done!_" Hysterically she began tearing it into small pieces, throwing them upon the ground.