"I don't remember to have said that to you," returned Langford, his voice snapping with rage. "What I did say was that Duncan saw him killed and came to me with the news. I sent him for you. Since then my daughter has been over to Doubler's cabin. He is quite dead, she reported," he lied. "There can be no doubt of his guilt, if that is what bothers you," he continued. "Duncan saw him shoot Doubler in the back with Doubler's own rifle, and my daughter heard the shot and met Dakota coming from Doubler's cabin, immediately after. It's a clear case, it seems to me." "Yes, clear," said Allen. "The evidence is all against him." Yet it was not all quite clear to Langford. To be sure, he had expected to receive news that Dakota had accomplished the destruction of Doubler, but he had not anticipated the fortunate appearance of Duncan at the nester's cabin during the commission of the murder, nor had he expected Sheila to be near the scene of the crime. It had turned out better than he had planned, for since he had burned the agreement that he had made with Dakota, the latter had no hold on him whatever, and if it were finally proved that he had committed the crime there would come an end to both Dakota and Doubler. Only one thing puzzled him. Dakota had been to his place, he knew that he was charged with the murder and that the agreement had been burned. He also knew that Duncan and Sheila would bear witness against him. And yet, though he had had an opportunity to escape, he had not done so. Why not? He put this interrogation to Allen, carefully avoiding reference to anything which would give the sheriff any idea that he possessed any suspicion that Dakota was not really guilty. "That's what's bothering me!" declared the latter. "He's had time enough to hit the breeze clear out of the Territory. Though," he added, squinting at Langford, "Dakota ain't never been much on the run. He'd a heap rather face the music. Damn the cuss!" he exploded impatiently. He finished his breakfast in silence, and then again approached the door of Dakota's cabin, knocking loudly, as before. "I'm wanting that palaver now, Dakota," he said coaxingly. He heard Dakota laugh. "Have you viewed the corpse, Allen?" came his voice, burdened with mockery. "No," said Allen. "You're a hell of a sheriff--wanting to take a man when you don't know whether he's done anything." "I reckon you ain't fooling me none," said Allen slowly. "The evidence is dead against you." "What evidence?" "Duncan saw you fixing Doubler, and Langford's daughter met you coming from his cabin." "Who told you that?" "Langford. He's just brought some grub over." The silence that followed Allen's words lasted long, and the sheriff fidgeted impatiently. When he again spoke there was the sharpness of intolerance in his voice.