"I think I may have spoken too much, Miss McGurn," answered the doctor, with a face that had suddenly become exceedingly stern. "It is not for me to answer your question. Of course, it's in my power to tell the sheriff that there is no longer any suspicion that the shooting was otherwise than accidental, and I could perhaps also persuade Miss Nelson not to follow this matter of the letters any further. I think that she would follow my advice in the matter. But I have no intention of interfering until--until I know everything--down--to--the--last--word!" He accentuated this by striking with his fist into an open hand, slowly, as if driving in a rebellious spike. They were alone on the little veranda of the store. Within her breast the girl's heart was throbbing with fear--with the terror of exposure and unknown punishments. She felt that this man knew the exact truth and she had the sensation of some animal cornered and seeing but a single avenue of escape. "But I have found out everything I wanted to know, Miss McGurn," Dr. Starr told her, suddenly. "Unless I have a written confession in my hands I shall let matters take their course. It--is--for--you--to--choose." He looked at his watch. "My train should be here in fifteen minutes," he told her. "After that it will be too late!" Then the girl broke down. Wild thoughts had come and gone. If a weapon had been at hand she might, in obedience to the behest of a wild and fiery nature, have stabbed the man who so calmly faced her. But she felt utterly helpless and her fear and despair became supreme. "I--I'll write whatever you want me to, if--if you promise not to tell!" she cried. "I'm not quite prepared to accept conditions," he answered. "I intend to show the paper to Ennis and to Miss Nelson. They have a right to know the truth. But I can promise that they will carry the matter no farther, and that I shall see that neither the sheriff nor the post-office authorities will interfere. There are but a few minutes left now." She rushed into the store again and went to the desk. Her father was no longer in the room. With feverish speed she wrote while the doctor bent over her, suggesting a word now and then. Finally she signed the paper and handed it to him. "I think you had better give me those answers now," he suggested. "Those directed to A. B. C." From Box 17 she took the letters and handed them over without a word, and the doctor carefully placed them in his pocket with the others. "I think you've been very wise in taking my advice, Miss McGurn," he told her. "It was the only way out of trouble. Isn't that the freight's whistle? I'll hurry off. Good-day to you." He stepped quickly across the space that separated him from the station. On the platform Joe Follansbee greeted him pleasantly. "A fine clear day, doctor," said the station agent. "Yes, everything is beautifully clear now," answered Dr. Starr amiably. "Shouldn't wonder if this were about the last of the cold weather."