The Texan nodded.  “That’s about how I figured it.  I’m glad you told me, boys.  I reckon I don’t need to tell you I’m padlocked in regard to this.”

Arlie came to the door and looked in.  “It’s time you boys were going.  Doc said a half hour”

“All right, Arlie,” responded Dick.  “So-long, Steve.  Be good, you old pie eater.”

After they had gone, the Texan lay silent for a long time.  He understood perfectly their motive in telling him the story.  They had not compromised themselves legally, since a denial would have given them two to one in the matter of witnesses.  But they wished him to see that, morally, every man but one who rode on that raid was guiltless of the Squaw Creek murders.

Arlie came in presently, and sat down near the window with some embroidery.

“Did the boys tire you?” she asked, noting his unusual silence.

“No.  I was thinking about what they told me.  They were giving me the inside facts of the Squaw Creek raid.”

She looked up in surprise.  “They were?” A little smile began to dimple the corners of her mouth.  “That’s funny, because they had just got through forgiving me for what I told you.”

“What they told me was how the shooting occurred.”

“I don’t know anything about that.  When I told you their names I was only telling what I had heard people whisper.  That’s all I knew.”

“You’ve been troubled because your friends were in this, haven’t you?  You hated to think it of them, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.  It has troubled me a lot.”

“Don’t let it trouble you any more.  One man was responsible for all the bloodshed.  He went mad and saw red for half a minute.  Before the rest could stop him, the slaughter was done.  The other boys aren’t guilty of that, any more than you or I.”

“Oh, I’m glad—­ I’m glad,” she cried softly.  Then, looking up quickly to him:  “Who was the man?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  It is better that neither of us should know that.”

“I’m glad the boys told you.  It shows they trust you.”

“They figure me out a white man,” he answered carelessly.

“Ah!  That’s where I made my mistake.”  She looked at him bravely, though the color began to beat into her cheeks beneath the dusky tan.  “Yet I knew it all the time—­ in my heart.  At least, after I had given myself time to think it over.  I knew you couldn’t be that.  If I had given you time to explain—­ but I always think too late.”

His eyes, usually so clear and steely, softened at her words.  “I’m satisfied if you knew—­ in your heart.”

“I meant——­” she began, with a flush.

“Now, don’t spoil it, please,” he begged.