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"I've somethin'--on my conscience," he whispered
The woman, the sensitive in Ellen, understood and pitied hied him
"I stole cattle--s All the crookedness--wasn't on--Jorth's side I want--my brother Jean--to know"
"I'll try--to tell hireat amaze
"We were all--a bad lot--except Jean," went on Isbel "Dad wasn't fair God! how he hated Jorth! Jorth, yes, as--your father Wal, they're even now"
"How--so?" faltered Ellen
"Your father killed dad At the last--dad wanted to--save us He sent word--he'd meet him--face to face--an' let thet end the feud They met out in the road But some one shot dad doith a rifle--an' then your father finished him"
"An' then, Isbel," added Ellen, with unconsciousbitterness, "Your brother murdered ot--it wrong I reckon Jean--could have killed--your father But he didn't Queer, we all thought"
"Ah!Who did kill reat hammers at her ears
"It was Blue He went in the store--alone--faced the whole gang alone Bluffed the Fisher Then he killed--your dad--an' Jackson Jorth Jean was out--back of the store We were out--front There was shootin' Colmor was hit Then Blue ran out--bad hurt Both of them--died in Meeker's yard"
"An' so Jean Isbel has not killed a Jorth!" said Ellen, in strange, deep voice
"No," replied Isbel, earnestly "I reckon this feud--was hardest on Jean He never lived heah An' ot sweet on y'u Now did he?"
Slow, stinging tears filled Ellen's eyes, and her head sank low and lower
"Yes--he did," she murmured, tremulously
"Ahuh! Wal, thet accounts," replied Isbel, wonderingly "Too bad!It ht have been A man always sees--different when--he's dyin' If I had--ain!My poor kids--deserted in their babyhood--ruined for life! All for nothin' May God forgive--"
Then he choked and whispered for water
Ellen laid his head back and, rising, she took his so dust fly and rocks roll Herdown the weathered slope, she gained the bench, to run across that, and so on down into the open canyon to the -bordered brook Here she filled the sombrero ater and started back, forced noalk slowly and carefully It was then, with the violence and fury of intense muscular activity denied her, that the tremendous import of Bill Isbel's revelation burst upon her very flesh and blood and transfiguring the very world of golden light and azure sky and speaking forestland that encompassed her