“Amy!” he stammered.

She shot a swift look at him, and immediately arose to her feet.

“We will have to testify at a coroner’s inquest, I presume,” said she, in the most matter-of-fact tones.

“I suppose so,” agreed Bob morosely.  It is impossible to turn back all the strongly set currents of life without at least a temporary turmoil.

Amy glanced at him sideways, and smiled a faint, wise smile to herself.  For in these matters, while men are more analytical after the fact, women are by nature more informed.  She said nothing, but stooped to the creek for a drink.  When she had again straightened to her feet, Bob had come to himself.  The purport of Amy’s last speech had fully penetrated his understanding, and one word of it—­the word testify—­had struck him with an idea.

“By Jove!” he cried, “that lets out Pollock!”

“What?” said Amy.

“This man Oldham was the only witness who could have convicted George Pollock of killing Plant.”

“What do you mean?” asked Amy, leaning forward interestedly.  “Was he there?  How do you know about it?”

A half-hour before Bob would have hesitated long before confiding his secret to a fourth party; but now, for him, the world of relations had shifted.

“I’ll tell you about it,” said he, without hesitation; “but this is serious.  You must never breathe even a word of it to any one!”

“Certainly not!” cried Amy.

“Oldham wasn’t an actual witness of the killing; but I was, and he knew it.  He could have made me testify by informing the prosecuting attorney.”

Bob sketched rapidly his share in the tragedy:  how he had held Pollock’s horse, and been in a way an accessory to the deed.  Amy listened attentively to the recital of the facts, but before Bob had begun to draw his conclusions, she broke in swiftly.

“So Oldham offered to let you off, if you would keep out of this Modoc Land case,” said she.

Bob nodded.

“That was it.”

“But it would have put you in the penitentiary,” she pointed out.

“Well, the case wasn’t quite decided yet.”

She made her quaint gesture of the happily up-thrown hands.

“Just what you said about Mr. Welton!” she cried.  “Oh, I’m glad you told me this!  I was trying so hard to think you were doing a high and noble duty in ignoring the consequences to that poor old man.  But I could not.  Now I see!”

“What do you mean?” asked Bob curiously, as she paused.

“You could do it because your act placed you in worse danger,” she told him.

“Too many for me,” Bob disclaimed.  “I simply wasn’t going to be bluffed out by that gang!”

“That was it,” said Amy wisely.  “I know you better than you do yourself.  You don’t suppose,” she cried, as a new thought alarmed her, “that Oldham has told the prosecuting attorney that your evidence would be valuable.”