"Burr Gordon has killed Lot so's to get his property," proclaimed the old man, and his voice broke with eager delight and importance. Madelon gave a cry and sprang forward in front of him. "It's a lie!" she shouted. The old man laughed in her face. "No, 'tain't, Madelon. You're showin' a Christian sperrit to stan' up for him when he's jilted ye for another gal, but 'tain't a lie. His knife, with his name on to it, was a-stickin' out of Lot's side." "_It's a lie!_ I killed him with my brother Richard's knife!" The old man shrank back before her in incredulous horror. The great bass-viol fell to the ground like a woman as David strode forward and Abner and Eugene turned their shocked, white faces from their guns. "I killed him with Richard's knife," repeated Madelon. Richard got up and came around before her, thrusting his hand in his pocket. He pulled out his own clasp-knife, and brandished it in her face. "Here is my knife," he cried, fiercely--"my knife, with my name cut in the handle. Say you killed Lot Gordon with it again!" Madelon snatched the knife out of her brother's hand and looked at it with straining eyes. There, indeed, was a rude "R. H." cut in the horn handle. She gasped. "What does this mean?" she cried out. "It means you have lost your wits," answered Richard, contemptuously; but his eyes on his sister's face were full of pleading agony. "What knife did you give me when I started home last night?" "I gave you no knife." Old Luke Basset asserted himself again. "The gal's lost her balance," he said. "It was Burr Gordon's knife, with his name cut into it, that was stickin' out of Lot Gordon's side." "Is Lot Gordon dead?" Louis demanded, hoarsely. "No, he ain't dead, but the doctor thinks he can't live long. Ephraim Steele and Eleazer Hooper were a-goin' home from the ball when they come right on Lot layin' side of the road and Burr a-tryin' to draw his knife out, so it shouldn't testify against him." "It's a lie!" Madelon groaned. "Burr Gordon did not kill him. It was I! He met me, and tried to--kiss me, and--the knife was in my hand--Richard made me take it because I was coming home alone, and there had been rumors of a bear." "I did not," persisted Richard, doggedly. "I did not make her take my knife. Here is my knife, with my name cut in the handle." Madelon turned on him fiercely. "You did, you know you did!" said she. "Here is my knife, with my name cut on the handle." "You gave me a knife as I was coming out of the tavern." "No, I did not." "You did, and I killed him with it. It was not Burr! I ran for help, and I met Burr, and I told him what I had done, and he went back with me to Lot. Then he sent me home when he heard somebody coming. Ask Lot Gordon if I did not kill him; if he can speak he can tell you." "There won't neither him nor Burr say a word," said the old man, "but there was Burr's knife a-stickin' into Lot's side, with his name cut into it."