"I know you are telling the truth," he responded at length. "But I can hardly believe it. That's the reason, of course, you _did_ find me. I rode a good many miles that night without knowing where I was or what I was doing. I certainly never figured on winding up here. How could I get in here without being stopped?" "Everybody inside the Gap was outside hunting for you, I suppose." "There isn't much use asking where I am, in the Gap. I never was inside but once. I shouldn't know if you did tell me." "You are at the foot of Music Mountain, about a mile from where I live." "You must have thought I meant to raid your house. I didn't. I was hit. I got mixed up in trying to get away. You want me out of here?" "Very much." "No more than I want to get out. Perhaps by to-morrow I could walk a few miles. I should have to assassinate somebody to get some ammunition." "It wouldn't be hard for you to do that, I presume." Her words and her tone revealed the intensity of her dislike and the depth of her distrust. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, without resentment: "You are ashamed already of saying that, aren't you?" "No, I am not," she answered defiantly. "Yes, you are. You know it isn't true. If you believed it you never would have brought food here to save my life." "I brought it to save some of my own people from possible death at your hands--to prevent another fight--to see if you hadn't manhood enough after being helped, to go away, when you were able to move, peaceably. One cartridge might mean one life, dear to me." "I know whose life you mean." "You know nothing about what I mean." "I know better than you know yourself. If I believed you, I shouldn't respect you. Fear and mercy are two different things. If I thought you were only afraid of me, I shouldn't think much of your aid. Listen--I never took the life of any man except to defend my own----" "No murderer that ever took anybody's life in this country ever said anything but that." "Don't class me with murderers." "You are known from one end of the country to the other as a gunman." He answered impassively: "Did these men who call me a gunman ever tell you why I'm one?" She seemed in too hostile a mood to answer. "I guess not," he went on. "Let me tell you now. The next time you hear me called a gunman you can tell them." "I won't listen," she exclaimed, restive.