The Forfeit

swarm of hills of lesser or greater magnitude. Westward, away in the distance, the silver she

g. It rather gave the impression of the driving of sheer necessity than the enthusiasm of effort toward the achievement of a heartily

, held secure from winter storms by sapling logs lashed fast across it. The central doorway was filled by a rough-boarded door, and the apertures left for added light w

nably hoped for by the toughened creatures, who found shelter beneath its crazy roof. Higher up the slope stood a couple of corrals of sorts. Their posit

y acres in extent. This was the real business of the homestead, and, in spite o

s immensity. It spoke of courage, too. The reckless courage of early youth, plunging for the first time into independence. Furthermore, it suggested something of the first great sacrifice which the hot tide of love, surging through

grazing their way homeward; the cows bearing their burden of laden udders to yield it for the benefit and prosperity of the community; the steers lingering at the banks of the murmuring mountain str

. A few chickens moved about drowsily, just outside the hutch which had been contrived for their nightly shelter. While stretched upon the dusty earth, side by side, lay two g

there came a p

whinnied at the approach. The two dogs were on their feet startled into alertness, vain hope rising once more in their fierce hearts. The hens cackled fussily at the prospect of their deferre

. Finally she dismounted and off-saddled, turning her pony loose to follow the promptings of its own particular requirements. Then she set about releasing the carcase of the deer upon her saddle, and bore it away to a lean-to shed at the side of the

more than averse. She dreaded it. For all her two years of life in the meagre home her husband had provided her with, it required all h

rs of her mouth and the tight compression of her well-formed lips told their own story of her em

knowledge of the country about her. With another sigh, but this time one of weariness, she left her doorway

*

cted homestead on the slope of the hill beyond. He was be-chapped, and carried the usual complement of weapons at his waist. His horse was an unusua

gany-hued setting. It was a hard face, br

his expression, which was by no means pleasant, two emotions were struggling for dominance. For some time doubt held chief place, but slowly it y

governing him. For, with a sharp ejaculation that conveyed every feeling suggested by disappo

*

ly to the story he was telling her. The little living-room, more than half kitchen, was bathed in the yellow light of a small tin kerosene

wn long enough the whole blamed countryside is haunted by cattle rustlers, but-that's the first time I've seen

t the moment. There were other things in her mind, things of far greater import. She returned to the rocker chair, whi

she murmured. "Ten tho

gh shelf nailed upon the

contemptuously, as poured som

nking of-o

gaze swiftly down upon the gen

n, Effie?" he d

n answer to the challenging tone. They met

dled a dollar that I could spend without careful

ot answer for a few moments, but occupied himse

e said at last, emitting heavy c

-it's just

pose

f it of purely home manufacture, thrown up into hideous relief by the few tasteful knickknacks which had been wedding presents from her intimate friends and relatives in the east. The earthen floor, beaten hard and kept scrupulously swept by her own hands. The cook-stove in the corner, with its ill-set stovepipe passing out of a hole in the wall which had

suddenly from all the little luxuries she has always been used to. I don't mean extravagances. Just the trifling refinements which count for so much in a young woman's life. The

ments. Then, as the girl, too, remained silent,

persisted, and he-why, he just handed us what he promised-the dollars that bought us this-farm. That was all. It was the last cent he figured to pass our way. You know all that, and you never squealed-then. You knew what was in store. I mean-this." He flung out one arm in a comprehensive gesture. "You guessed you'd gr

ntle. But the girl kept hers studiously turned from his direction

rocking herself. At last, however, she drew in her f

lars, which seems to be a fortune to me. Ten thousand dollars!" she breathed. "And we haven't ten dollars between us in this-house. Bob, it makes me mad when I think of it. You don't care. You don't worry. All yon care for is to get away from it all-from me-and spend your time among the boys in Orrville. You've been away ever since dinner to-day, and now it's past midn

ion. It was the result of long pent-up bitterness, which never needs more than a careless word to

n's eyes. Now he tried to smooth the threat of storm he saw looming. Fu

called a fortune, Effie

I don't guess it's l

y n

sharp, and her beautiful eyes were

artled. He was

manded. "I d

ruddy tint shone through the tanning of her fair cheeks. She was good to look at, and Bob felt the influence of her beau

ugh a sort of purgatory in these hills for too long not to make my voice heard now-now when there's a chance of making our lives more tolerable. Oh, I've had a day while you've been

d t

saw with a growing sense of horror the meaning of that sudden revolt. This w

rfect shoulders wit

thousand dollars are

do c

in her final words. They came deliberate and hard,

-do-

woman's dominance of personality. The man's eyes, for all their anger, conveyed not a tithe of the other's decision. His whole attitude was subjective to the poise of

n stop

h the little room. Then a silence fraught

vement was followed by

he continuous effort the position called for. In a moment he seemed to shrink before those straight gazing eyes, and the lig

e no sort of use for rustlers. They're crooks, and maybe murderers. Guess they're everything you can think of, and a sight more. But they're men, and their blood's hot, warm blood the same as yours and mine. And you reckon to chaffer that blood for a price. You're going to sell it-for a price. You're going to do more. Yes. You're going to wreck a woman's conscience for life for those filthy, blood-soaked dollars. The price?

the mire of penury into which he had helped to plunge her. The hours of dreary, hopeless labor; the weeks and months of dismal and grinding poverty

ow who handles the levers of the electric chair? Doesn't the country hand out thousands of dollars every year for the punishment of offenders, whether it's for the shedding of their life blood, or merely their heart's blood in the cruel horrors of a penitentiary? Do you think I'm going to hand out my secret to a bunch of cattlemen for their benefit and profit, and reap no comfort from it for myself in the mi

m of her soul. There was not a shadow of yielding. She had no illusions. For two years her heart had been hardening t

had been steadily growing up between them. Just for a moment the weakly, obstinate thought had occurred of flinging everything to the winds and of denying her once more with all the force at his command. But the moment passed. It fled before the

to realize meant yielding. She wanted him to yield. It would simplify al

all the rest of your life. It's not you talking, my dear, it's just-the experience you've had to go through. Can't you

s resolution

-to countenance i

now he moved away and struck

of smoke. "No, my dear, if you're bent on it." Then he

ink I'm just about the limit. Well, maybe I'm nothing to shriek about. However, I've told you all I feel. I've told you what you're going to feel-later. Meanwhile it's

t is

from the girl's eyes. She was smiling

gle dollar of the price you're to receive

of the girl's cheeks, and her eyes sparkled ominously.

e said frigidly, but wi

around, and-I'll

es his mind went back to the scene in Ju Penrose's saloon, and