"Then the grub what we brung down from town done give out an' the little gal she sort of seemed to be a pinin' away right afore our eyes. "One evenin' some of the cattle broke into the field agin', an' Andy was a-drivin' 'em out, a yearlin' calf breaks back an' dodged into the little pole corral we done made fer a milk pen. "Andy he vowed he'd put a 'yoke' onto him, he bein' the wust one of em all for breakin' through the fence; so he puts up the bars intendin' to fix him as soon as we got the rest out. "Bimeby, we goes to the corral meanin' to fix him with a yoke an' turn him out, but when I seed that there brand of Barker's onto him, an' we ain't nothin' to eat but taters, an' Barker's stock a-ruinin' our crap faster than it could grow; I just got that bitter I didn't much care what did happen. "Andy he sets down the axe he done brung out to the corral to make the yoke with, an' goes into the cabin fer a piece of balin' wire to tie the yoke on with, an' while he's gone all the bad in me come to the top, an' I drives the yearlin' into the little calf pen where we shuts up the milk calves, an' taken the axe an' hit him a lick on the haid with it as he made a sort of pass at me, which brung him to the ground. "When Andy come back with the balin' wire, the calf was daid. He were terribly cut up about it but I ses, 'We can't be much wuss off, an' I'm that hongry fer somethin' besides taters, that I don't care what happens to us.' "As fer the rest of it, I reckin what the detective feller said is about right. We done butchered the calf the best we could, an' buried the hide what was found, an' so I reckin you all men knows now jist who killed that thar yearling of Barker's, fer 'twere me what did it an' not Andy Morrow a-tall." Her voice was raised as she spoke the last few words, and she threw her head back, and swept a look of defiance around the courtroom. Directly before her sat old man Barker, his eyes staring straight into hers, his great hairy hands gripping a red bandana until the cords and veins stood out like ropes, while down his face the tears were making their way through the rough stubbly beard that covered it without any effort on his part to stay their course. Barker moved uneasily in his chair; in the tense stillness of the room its creaking smote the silence like a shot and drew every eye in the room to him. He grasped the back of the chair in front of him, struggled partly to his feet, and then sank back again. His mouth opened; he licked his parched lips like some hunted wild animal. "The, the--gal," he gasped, never taking his eyes from the woman's face, "the little gal, wh--what come of her?" he demanded hoarsely, a great something in his throat almost choking him, "did-did-sh-he," and his voice failed him completely.