"Listen," he said, as he stood for an instant at the horse's head, dimly outlined. "You'd better go to Hamlin's--that's nearest. An' make arrangements to stay there. I'm burnin' the Circle L buildin's. There won't be a stick standin' when I get through! When I get through, I'm goin' back to my place on the Rabbit Ear. My men have all gone with the cattle, an' I'll be there alone. You can tell that damned son of yours that! Understand? He's aimin' to get even for what I'm doin' tonight, he'll find me at my place--alone--waitin' for him! Now, get goin'." Mrs. Lawler did not answer. She took up the reins and sent the horse forward, past the bunkhouses and the corral and the ranchhouse--through the valley and up the long rise that led to the great plains above. It took her a long time to reach the plains, and when she looked back she saw some leaping tongues of flame issuing from the doors of the bunkhouse. Two or three of the other buildings were on fire; and the windows of the ranchhouse were illuminated by a dull red glare. But the woman made no sound that would have betrayed the emotions that tortured her. She turned her back to the burning buildings and rode onward, toward the Hamlin cabin--trying, in this crisis, to live the code she had taught her son; endeavoring to vindicate the precepts that she had dinned into his ears all the days of his life--that courage in adversity is the ultimate triumph of character--the forge in which is fashioned the moral fiber which makes men strong and faithful. CHAPTER XXX A WOMAN LIES Lawler had said little to Sheriff Moreton on the ride to Willets. Nor had he made any comment when, in the Circle L ranchhouse, in the presence of his mother, Moreton had shown him the statement signed by Della Wharton. He had silently passed it back to Moreton; and had walked to Mrs. Lawler--telling her why the sheriff had come; smilingly taking leave of her while Moreton, sweating profusely, turned his back and pretended to be interested in a picture on the wall. "I reckon there's somethin' about this case that ain't been brought out yet, Mrs. Lawler," said Moreton when he was about to depart with his prisoner. "But things has a way of comin' out, an' I reckon we'll get Kane out of this before long." Outside, on their horses, Moreton rode close to Lawler. "Kane, I reckon it's a damn lie about you killin' Link an' Givens the way that Wharton woman says you did--in that damned paper--just malicious, without them deservin' it?" "Moreton, I told you my side of the story a couple of months ago. It's the lady's word against mine." Moreton muttered much to himself during the ride. He told Lawler how Warden had come to him with the statement--the charge; and of how he had waited until Della Wharton had personally appeared before him to corroborate what she had signed.