To release her hold upon him seemed like a tearing of her heartstrings.  She sat up, she wiped the tears from her eyes, she rose to her feet, all the time striving for strength to face him again.

A loud voice ringing from the cliffs outside, startled Columbine.  It came from Wade calling the hounds.  He had returned, and the fact stirred her.

“I’m to marry Jack Belllounds on October first.”

The cowboy raised himself up as far as he was able.  It was agonizing for Columbine to watch the changing and whitening of his face!

“No—­no!” he gasped.

“Yes, it’s true,” she replied, hopelessly.

“No!” he exclaimed, hoarsely.

“But, Wilson, I tell you yes.  I came to tell you.  It’s true—­oh, it’s true!”

“But, girl, you said you love me,” he declared, transfixing her with dark, accusing eyes.

“That’s just as terribly true.”

He softened a little, and something of terror and horror took the place of anger.

Just then Wade entered the cabin with his soft tread, hesitated, and then came to Columbine’s side.  She could not unrivet her gaze from Moore to look at her friend, but she reached out with trembling hand to him.  Wade clasped it in a horny palm.

Wilson fought for self-control in vain.

“Collie, if you love me, how can you marry Jack Belllounds?” he demanded.

“I must.”

“Why must you?”

“I owe my life and my bringing up to his father.  He wants me to do it.  His heart is set upon my helping Jack to become a man....  Dad loves me, and I love him.  I must stand by him.  I must repay him.  It is my duty.”

“You’ve a duty to yourself—­as a woman!” he rejoined, passionately.  “Belllounds is wrapped up in his son.  He’s blind to the shame of such a marriage.  But you’re not.”

“Shame?” faltered Columbine.

“Yes.  The shame of marrying one man when you love another.  You can’t love two men....  You’ll give yourself.  You’ll be his wife!  Do you understand what that means?”

“I—­I think—­I do,” replied Columbine, faintly.  Where had vanished all her wonderful spirit?  This fire-eyed boy was breaking her heart with his reproach.

“But you’ll bear his children,” cried Wilson.  “Mother of—­them—­when you love me!...  Didn’t you think of that?”

“Oh no—­I never did—­I never did!” wailed Columbine.

“Then you’ll think before it’s too late?” he implored, wildly.  “Dearest Collie, think!  You won’t ruin yourself!  You won’t?  Say you won’t!”

“But—­Oh, Wilson, what can I say?  I’ve got to marry him.”

“Collie, I’ll kill him before he gets you.”

“You mustn’t talk so.  If you fought again—­if anything terrible happened, it’d kill me.”

“You’d be better off!” he flashed, white as a sheet.

Columbine leaned against Wade for support.  She was fast weakening in strength, although her spirit held.  She knew what was inevitable.  But Wilson’s agony was rending her.