Sullenly Jerry left. There was no profit in jeering at Lindsay. He was too entirely master of every situation that confronted him.
Within the hour Clay was wakened from sleep by another guard with word that he was wanted at the office of the warden. He found waiting him there Beatrice and her father. The girl bloomed in that dingy room like a cactus in the desert.
She came toward him with hands extended, in her eyes gifts of friendship and faith.
“Oh, Clay!” she cried.
“Much obliged, little pardner.” Her voice went to his heart like water to the thirsty roots of prickly pears. A warm glow beat through his veins. The doubts that had weighed on him during the night were gone. Beatrice believed in him. All was well with the world.
He shook hands with Whitford. “Blamed good of you to come, sir.”
“Why wouldn’t we come?” demanded the mining man bluntly. “We’re here to do what we can for you.”
Little wells of tears brimmed over Beatrice’s lids. “I’ve been so worried.”
“Don’t you. It’ll be all right.” Strangely enough he felt now that it would. Her coming had brought rippling sunshine into a drab world.
“I won’t now. I’m going to get evidence for you. Tell us all about it.”
“Why, there isn’t much to tell that you haven’t read in the papers probably. He came a-shootin’ and was hit by a chair.”
“Was it you that hit him?”
“Wouldn’t I be justified?” he asked gently.
“But did you?”
For a moment he hesitated, then made up his mind swiftly. “Yes,” he told her gravely.
She winced. “You couldn’t help it. How did you come to be there?”
“I just dropped in.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
He had burned the bridges behind him and was lying glibly. Why bring Bromfield into it? She was going to marry him in a few days. If her fiance was man enough to come forward and tell the truth he would do so anyhow. It was up to him. Clay was not going to betray him to Beatrice.
“The paper says there was some one with you.”
“Sho! Reporters sure enough have lively imaginations.”
“Johnnie told me you had an engagement with Mr. Bromfield.”
“Did you ever know Johnnie get anything right?”
“And Clarendon says he was with you at Maddock’s.”
Clay had not been prepared for this cumulative evidence. He gave a low laugh of relief. “I’m an awful poor liar. So Bromfield says he was with me, does he?”
“Yes.”
He intended to wait for a lead before showing his hand. “Then you know all about it?” he asked carelessly.
Their eyes were on each other, keen and watchful. She knew he was concealing something of importance. He had meant not to tell her that Bromfield had been with him. Why? To protect the man to whom she was engaged. She jumped to the conclusion that he was still shielding him.