“An’ I ain’t found that Wharton woman, either!” he declared.  “I’m sendin’ a man out to the Two Diamond for both of them, an’ if they ain’t in town to appear ag’in’ you by night I’m goin’ to turn you loose—­an’ be damned to them!”

It seemed to Lawler that only an hour or so had elapsed when the key grated in the lock of the door and Moreton stuck his head in.  His face lacked expression.

“Someone to see you, Lawler,” he grunted, gruffly.  “Wants to talk to you alone.  I’ll be right outside, so’s you can call me when you’ve got enough of it.”

He pushed the door open, and Della Wharton stepped in.

Moreton closed the door, and Della stood watching Lawler steadily.

Lawler had been standing near one of the rear windows, and when he recognized his visitor he came forward and stood within three or four paces of her.

“Well, Miss Wharton?” he said, quietly.

“I heard you were here, Lawler,” she said, evenly, her voice expressionless.  “In fact, I saw the sheriff bring you in, last night.”

“You expected me, I presume?”

The sarcasm in his voice brought a faint glow to her cheeks.  But her gaze was level and steady, containing much inquiry.

“Yes,” she said slowly; “I expected you to be brought here.  You know, of course, about the charge I brought against you?”

“Why did you do it, Miss Wharton?”

She laughed mirthlessly.  “Why?  I don’t know, Lawler.  I expect I did it because I felt I ought to tell the truth.”

Lawler’s grim smile did not seem to affect her.  She met it steadily.

“You say in your charge that I deliberately planned to kill Link and Givens; you said I laid in wait for them at the door.  Is that the way you saw it?”

“Yes.”

“And you are willing to swear to that?” His smile was incredulous.

She nodded affirmatively.

He bowed stiffly to her.  “In that case, Miss Wharton, there seems to be nothing more for us to talk about.”  He walked to the front window, and stood on his toes, intending to call to Moreton to open the door for Miss Wharton, when she moved close to him and seized his left arm, drawing him suddenly toward her while he was off balance, so that when he turned he was facing her, standing close to her.

The color that had surged into her face soon after her entrance, had gone.  Her cheeks were white and her eyes held mute appeal that, she felt, he must respond to.

She saw the cold contempt in his eyes as he looked at her, the lurking passion that lay deep in them, and the disgust that she should lie about a matter that might mean life or death to him.

She must act, now, and she must sacrifice Warden.  Her grasp on his arm tightened; she clung to him in seeming frenzy, and she spoke brokenly, pleadingly.

“Lawler, I don’t believe what I said—­what was written on that paper I signed.  I know you acted in self-defense; you couldn’t help doing as you did.