"You did perfectly right in killing him, Moll," broke in Viola warmly. "I would have done the same thing if I had been in your place." Moll thought over this for a few seconds. "Well, maybe you might have had to do it, Miss Violy, if them fellers had got away with you as they wuz plannin' to do," she said. Silence fell between them again, broken after a while by Moll. "They'll never ketch Pap," she said. "I guess I'll never lay eyes on him ag'in. I wuz jest wonderin' what's goin' to become of his dogs. Do you suppose anybody'll take the trouble to feed 'em?" Toby Moxler, Jack Trentman's dealer, accosted Kenneth Gwynne at the conclusion of the first drill. "Jack found this here letter down at the shanty this morning, Mr. Gwynne. It's addressed to you, so he asked me to hand it to you when I saw you." Kenneth knew at once who the letter was from. He stuck it into his coat pocket, unopened. "Tell Jack that I am very much obliged to him," he said, and walked away. When he was safely out of hearing distance, Toby turned to the man at his side and remarked: "If what Barry Lapelle told me and Jack Trentman yesterday morning is true, there'll be the doggonedest scandal this town ever heard of." "What did he tell you?" inquired his neighbour eagerly. "It's against my principles to talk about women," snapped Toby, glaring at the man as if deeply insulted. Seeing the disappointment in the other's face, he softened a little: "'Specially about widders," he went so far as to explain. "You keep your shirt on, Elmer, and wait. And when it _does_ come out, you'll be the most surprised man in town." Kenneth did not open Barry's letter until he reached his office. His face darkened as he read but cleared almost instantly. He even smiled disdainfully as he tore the sheet into small pieces and stuffed them into his pocket against the time when he could consign them to the fire in his kitchen stove. "Kenneth Gwynne, Esquire.