Mrs. Gwyn left the hut but soon returned. After a few earnest words with the sheriff, she came slowly over to the girl. Moll shrank back against the wall, a strange glitter leaping into her sullen, lifeless eyes. "I don't want nobody prayin' over me," she said huskily. "I jest want to be let alone." "I am not going to pray over you, my girl. I want you to come out in the back yard with me, where I can wash the blood off of you and put something around you." "What's the use'n that? They're goin' to take me to jail, ain't they?" "Have you another frock to put on, Moll?" The girl looked down at her torn, disordered dress, a sneering smile on her lips. "This is all I got,--an' now look at it. I ain't had a new dress in God knows how long. Pap ain't much on dressin' me up. Mr. Lapelle he promised me a new dress but--say, who air you?" "I am Mrs. Gwyn, Moll." "I might ha' knowed it. You're her ma, huh? Well, I guess you'd better go on away an' let me alone. I ain't axin' no favours off'n--" "I am not trying to do you a favour. I am only trying to make you a little more presentable. You are going up to town, Moll." "Yes,--I guess that's so. Can't they hang me here an' have it over?" A look of terror gleamed in her eyes, but there was no flinching of the body, no tremor in her voice. The sheriff came over. "Better let Mrs. Gwyn fix you up a little, Moll. She's a good, kind lady and she'll--" "I don't want to go to town," whimpered the girl, covering her face with her hands. "I don't want to be hung. I jest had to do it,--I jest had to. There wuz no other way,--'cept to--'cept to--an' I jest couldn't do that. Now I wish I had,--oh, Lordy, how I wish I had! That wuz bad enough, but hangin's wuss. He wuz goin' away in a day or two, anyhow, so--" "You're not going to be hung, Moll," broke in the sheriff. "Don't you worry about that. We don't hang women for killing men like that feller over there. Like as not you'll be set free in no time at all. All you've got to do is to tell the truth about how it happened and that'll be all there is to it." "You're lyin' to me, jest to git me to go along quiet," she quavered, but there was a new light in her eyes. "I'm not lying. You will have to stand trial, of course,--you understand that, don't you?--but there isn't a jury on earth that would hang you. We don't do that kind of thing to women. Now you go along with Mrs. Gwyn and do what she says,--and you can tell me all about this after a while." "I'll wash, but I hain't got no more clothes," muttered the girl. "We will manage somehow," said Mrs. Gwyn. "One of the men will give you a coat,--or you may have my cape to wear, Moll." Moll looked at her in surprise. Again she said the unexpected thing. "Why, ever'body says you air a mighty onfeelin' woman, Mis' Gwyn. I can't believe you'd let me take your cape." "You will see, my girl. Come! Show me where to find water and a comb and--"