For an instant she stood there, holding tightly to him; and then she released herself, stepping back with flushed cheeks and shamed eyes.

“Kane, I am so glad you came!” she said.  “Why, Kane! that man—­” She shuddered and covered her face with her hands.

“I reckon that’s all!” said Lawler.  There was a cold, bitter grin on his lips as he stepped around the table and stood in front of Warden.

“Warden, I’m going back to town with you.  We’re going right now.  Go out and get on your horse!”

Lawler’s voice, the cold flame in his eyes and his icy deliberation, told Ruth of a thing that, plainly, Warden had already seen—­that though both men would begin the ride to “town,” only Lawler would reach there.

Ruth watched, fascinated, her senses dulled by what she saw in Lawler’s manner and in the ghastly white of Warden’s face.  Warden understood.  He understood, and his breath was labored, his flesh palsied—­and still he was going to obey.  For Ruth saw him move; saw him sway toward the door; saw Lawler watching him as though he was fighting to hold his passions in check, fighting back a lust to kill the man where he stood.

Warden had reached the door; he was crossing the threshold—­his head bowed, his shoulders sagging, his legs bending at the knees—­when Ruth moved.  She ran around the table and got between Lawler and Warden, stretching her arms in the open doorway, barring Lawler’s way.  Her eyes were wild with terror.

“Don’t, Kane!” she begged; “don’t do that!  Oh, I know what you mean to do.  Please, Kane; let him go—­alone.  He didn’t do—­what—­what—­” She paused, shuddering.

Lawler’s eyes softened as he looked at her; he smiled faintly, and she knew she had won.  She did not resist when he drew her gently away from the door.  Standing just inside, she saw him go out to where Warden stood, pale and shaking, looking at both of them.  Then she heard Lawler’s voice as he spoke to Warden: 

“Warden, I’m letting you off.  Miss Ruth is going to teach school where she’s been teaching it.  The schoolhouse is your deadline—­the same as this cabin.  Whenever you step into one or the other, your friends are going to mourn for you.  Get going!”

It was a long time before Lawler moved.  And when he did re-enter the cabin Ruth was nowhere to be seen.

Lawler paused near the center of the big room and gazed about him.  The door leading to one of the rooms that ran from the big room was open.  The other was closed.  He walked to the closed door and stood before it, his lips set in grim lines, his eyes somber.

“Ruth!” he called, lowly.

There was no answer; and again he called.  This time a smothered voice reached him, quavering, tearful: 

“Please go away, Kane; I don’t want to see you.  I’m so upset.”

“I reckon I’ll go, Ruth.”  But still he lingered, watching the door, now smiling faintly, understandingly.  Beyond the door were the sounds of sobbing.