If Hamlin’s heart leaped wildly at this swift denial, there was no evidence of it in his quiet voice.

“The point is, Miss Molly, that Mrs. Dupont, and those connected with her, think otherwise.  They are presuming on Gaskins’ being in love with you.  Mrs. Dupont can be very seductive.  Little by little she has drawn the Lieutenant into her net.  Believing him engaged to you, they have him now where he must either pay money for silence or be exposed.  Just how it was worked, I do not know.  The shooting last night was done to convince him they were serious.  The fact that Gaskins later denied knowing who his assailants were—­even endeavored to accuse me—­is abundant proof of their success.”  He hesitated, wondering at her silence.  “What puzzles me most is why you were present.”

“Present?  Where?”

“At this quarrel with Gaskins last evening.  As I ran by toward the scene of the shooting I passed you hiding at the angle or the barrack wall.  Of course, I have mentioned the fact to no one.  That was why I made no attempt to defend myself when arrested.”

She gasped for breath, scarcely able to articulate.

“You believe that?  You think that of me?”

“I may have been deceived; I hope so; there was but little light, and I got merely a glimpse,” he explained hastily.

“You were deceived,” impetuously.  “I was not out of the house that evening.  I was in the parlor with my father when those shots were fired.  You are sure you saw a woman there—­hiding?”

“There is no doubt of that; her foot-prints were plainly to be seen in the morning.  This discovery, together with the size of the weapon used, resulted in my immediate release.  I saw her, and imagined her to be you.  I cannot account for the mistake, unless you were in my mind, and—­and possibly what I had heard of your connection with Gaskins.  Then it must have been Mrs. Dupont.  That looks reasonable.  But she stays at your home, does she not?”

“She makes our house her headquarters, but is absent occasionally.  Last night she was here at this hotel.  Well, we are getting this straightened out a little—­that is, if you believe me.”

“Of course.”

“Then I am going to question you.  You spoke of overhearing a conversation?”

“Yes; it was after Mrs. Dupont had left.  Captain Barrett came, and took her away.  I was sitting here thinking when two men came into the parlor.”

“Who were they?  Do you know?”

“One was the soldier who drives you about—­Connors; the other a black-bearded, burly fellow called ‘Reb.’”

“Mr. Dupont.”

“What?  Is that Dupont?  Lord!  No wonder she ’s gone bad.  Why, I thought her husband was a ranchman down South somewhere!  This fellow is a tin-horn.”

“He did run cattle once, years ago.  I think he was quite well off, but drank and gambled it away.  Papa told me all about it, but I found out he was the man by accident.  He—­is the one I am really afraid of.”