He was not thinking of Rosabel's letter. If he could only catch
Cale off his guard,--just for a second or two! A swift leap, a blow,
and--but a lightning glance out of the corner of his eye killed
the thought even as it was being created. Cale would not be off his
guard. He was watching like a hawk, his body bent slightly forward,
the revolver held in a grip of steel.
"Well?" cried Cale. "Have you read it?"
"Yes," whispered Courtney through his stiff lips. "It's not true,
Cale,--it's not true!"
"Yes, it is true. Rosie would not lie about herself like that. No
girl would. Every word of it is true." He snatched the paper from
Courtney's palsied hands and cast it into the waning fire. "No
one shall ever see that letter. I would not have mother know what
I know for all the world. She'll never know about Rosie."
Courtney took hope. "By gad, Cale, that's fine of you. I promise
you, on my word of honour, no one ever shall know. I'll keep the
secret with you. You--"
"There will be only one person left in all the world that knows
about Rosie," said Cale in a strangely quiet tone.
His left hand went out swiftly. The fingers clutched Courtney's
hair, pushing his head back. Even as the wretch opened his lips to
squeal for mercy, the cold muzzle of the weapon was jammed against
the flesh under his ear. There was a loud explosion..
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