He turned towards her to speak, but refrained. He could not tell
her what he felt certain of. She believed in her own blood and in
her uncle's friends--and it was not for him to speak of McNamara.
The rules of the game sealed his lips.

She was thinking again, "If only you had not acted as you did."
She longed to help him now in his trouble as he had helped her,
but what could she do? The law was such a confusing, intricate,
perplexing thing.

"I spent last night at the Midas," she told him, "and rode back
early this morning. That was a daring hold-up, wasn't it?"

"What hold-up?"

"Why, haven't you heard the news?"

"No" he answered, steadily. "I just got up."

"Your claim was robbed. Three men overcame the watchman at
midnight and cleaned the boxes."

His simulation of excited astonishment was perfect and he rained a
shower of questions upon her. She noted with approval that he did
not look her in the eye, however. He was not an accomplished liar.
Now McNamara had a countenance of iron. Unconsciously she made
comparison, and the young man at her side did not lose thereby.

"Yes, I saw it all," she concluded, after recounting the details.
"The negro wanted to bind me so that I couldn't give the alarm,