Bess knew perfectly well what he meant, but she made a show of not understanding. "I think we are talking nonsense," she said. "There is much to be done, if what you say about the pistol is true." "Yes," said Herrick again, "as you say there is much to be done. The other thing can stand over for a time. You know well enough; but it suits you to hold me at arm's length. Woman's way I suppose. Well," he brisked up and his voice took a sharper tone, "let us get to business. This rascal tried to inculpate you in the crime. He shall have the finest thrashing he ever had. The pistol I can explain away. I have seen it in his house, and I can guess that he slipped it into that drawer so as to make his case against you the stronger. He thought if he accused you and could back his accusation with evidence that you would never dare to refuse him--the mean hound!" "Indeed it would never have come to that," said the girl proudly. "I am not the woman to be won by threats. He did accuse me of the murder, and I defied him to do his worst. I suppose if you had not come, he would have shown me the pistol next. The mean scoundrel!" she clenched her fist, "beat him well Dr. Jim." "What a blood-thirsty person it is," laughed Jim, "but upon my word you know, this is the strangest of wooings." "Never mind that," said Bess drawing back, "we can talk later of such things. But my position is anything but a pleasant one. That little man will make trouble." "If he does not, his Mexican friend will. They are a proper pair of scamps. However I am equal to both of them. Leave Joyce to me. I know all about him; but about yourself, nothing. Joyce--I take it--accuses you of being near 'The Pines' on the night of the murder." "And at the hour," said Bess quickly. "This is what I have been trying to make up my mind to tell you all the week. The necessity of doing so has come earlier than I expected, but I shall explain myself now." She came to a stop and looked at him questioningly. "Of course you know I had nothing to do with the crime itself?" "I am sure of that," said Herrick heartily. "But I think you know who did it. Come now, confess!" "You are mistaken," cried Bess. "All I know is that Frisco is innocent." "Have you proof of this?" "The proof of my own eyes; I saw him at the door of the house when the shots were being fired." "You heard the shots?" "Three of them. The fourth I did not hear." "Humph! About what hour was this?" "Between nine and ten." "And what were you doing out at that hour?" Bess paused. "I had better tell you all from the beginning," she said slowly, "then you can judge for yourself. I have told no one as yet. It was too terrible, and--" she hesitated, "I had other reasons for silence. Yet if Frisco had been tried for his life, I should have come forward in spite of all. He is perfectly innocent. I can prove it." "Strange," muttered Herrick taking a seat. "Well, let us hear." "What about that horrid Joyce?"