“Don’t talk like that,” Rock told him.  “I’m not saying they don’t need killing, but—­nobody gets away with that stuff nowadays.”

“No?” ’Poleon was interested and a trifle defiant.  “For why?  You never catch me, M’sieu’.  Nobody is able for doin’ dat.  I’m good traveler.”

Rock eyed the stalwart speaker meditatively.  “I’d hate to take your trail, that’s a fact, but I’d have to do it.  However, that would be a poor way to help Pierce.  If he’s really innocent, Courteau will have a hard job to convict him.  I suggest that you let matters rest as they are for a day or so.  We’ll treat the kid all right.”

On the way to her room Rouletta met the Countess Courteau, and in a few words made known the facts of Pierce’s arrest.  The elder woman listened in astonishment.

“Arrested?  For theft?  Absurd!  Who made the charge?”

“Count Courteau.”

“Courteau?  Where did he get a thousand dollars?” The speaker’s face was set in an expression of utter incredulity.

“I don’t know.  It’s all too wretched, too terrible—­” Rouletta’s voice broke; she hid her face in her hands.  For a moment there was silence; then the elder woman exclaimed, harshly, peremptorily: 

“Tell me everything.  Quick!  There’s a reason why I must know all about it.”

Drawing Rouletta into her room, she forced her into a chair, then stood over her while the latter repeated the story in greater detail.

“So!  That’s it!” the Countess cried, at last.  “The McCaskeys backed him up.  Of course!  And he referred to Sheep Camp—­to me.  He’s the sort to do a thing like that.  God!  What a dog!” After a time she went on:  “I’m sorry Pierce struck him; he’ll never get over that and it will make it harder—­much harder.”

“You think it can be straightened out?” Rouletta s face was strained; her eyes searched the former speaker’s face eagerly.

“It’s got to be straightened out.  It would be monstrous to allow—­ " The Countess shook her head, then, with a mirthless smile, exclaimed:  “But what a situation!  Henri, of all persons!  It’s pleasant for me, isn’t it?  Well, somebody planted that poke—­ probably one of the McCaskeys.  They’d like to railroad the boy.  Joe is as vindictive as an Indian and he blames Pierce and me for his brother’s death.”

In desperation Rouletta cried:  “I’ll pay the Count back his money--I’ll double it.”

“His money?” sneered the woman.  “He hasn’t a cent, except what I give him.  That was McCaskey’s dust.”  She stared at the apprehensive figure crouched upon the edge of the chair, and slowly her expression softened.  In a gentler tone she said, “I see you didn’t take my advice; you didn’t heed my warning.”

“Who ever heeds a warning like yours?”

“Does Pierce know that you—­feel this way about him?”

Rouletta sighed wearily.  “I didn’t know myself, although I more than half suspected.  I didn’t permit myself to think, it made me so unhappy.”