"I knowed where Mr. Lapelle wuz to meet 'em down the river acrosst from Le Grange, so I was figgerin' on findin' him there an' tellin' him whut had happened an' fer him to make his escape down the river while he had setch a good start. I wuzn't goin' to let him be ketched an' at the same time I wuzn't goin' to let anything happen to Miss Violy Gwyn ef I could help it. I--I sort of figgered it out as a good way to help both o' my friends, Mr. Gwynne, an'--an' then this here thing happened. I want Mr. Lapelle to git away safe,--ca'se I know whut Pap's goin' to do. He's goin' to blat out a lot o' things. He says he's sure Mr. Lapelle put Mrs. Gwyn up to havin' him arrested." "I think you may rest easy, Moll," said he, a trifle grimly. "Mr. Lapelle had an engagement with me for to-morrow morning, but I'll stake my life he will not be here to keep it." "All right," she said, satisfied. "Ef you say so, Mr. Gwynne, I'll believe it. Whut do you think they'll do to Pap?" "He will probably get a dose of the whipping-post, for one thing." She grinned. "Gosh, I wish I could be some'eres about so's I could see it," she cried. CHAPTER XXIII CHALLENGE AND RETORT Kenneth could hardly contain himself until the time came for him to go home for his noon-day meal. Try as he would, he could not divorce his thoughts from the trouble that had come to Viola. The sinister tragedy in Martin Hawk's cabin was as nothing compared to the calamity that had befallen the girl he loved, for Moll Hawk's troubles would pass like a whiff of the wind while Viola's would endure to the end of time,--always a shadow hanging over her brightest day, a cloud that would not vanish. Out of the silence had come a murmur more desolating than the thunderbolt with all its bombastic fury; out of the silence had come a voice that would go on forever whispering into her ear an unlovely story. A crowd still hung about the jail and small, ever-shifting groups held sober discourse in front of business places. He hurried by them and struck off up the road, his mind so intent upon what lay ahead of him that he failed to notice that Jack Trentman had detached himself from the group in front of the undertaker's and was following swiftly after him. He was nearly half-way home when he turned, in response to a call from behind, and beheld the gambler. "I'd like a word with you, Mr. Gwynne," drawled Jack. "I am in somewhat of a hurry, Mr.--" "I'll walk along with you, if you don't mind," said the other, coming up beside him. "I'm not in the habit of beating about the bush. When I've got anything to do, I do it without much fiddling. Barry Lapelle is down at my place. He has asked me to represent him in a little controversy that seems to call for physical adjudication. How will day after to-morrow at five in the morning suit you?"