violently that he stepped quickly past her and stopped on the
threshold--shuddering. A human shape lay hidden under a
brilliantly colored quilt on his mother's bed, and the rigidity of
death had moulded its every outline.

"I reckon you've done it at last, Jasie," said a dead, mechanical
voice behind him.

"Good God, mammy--it must have been Gray or me."

"One of you, shore. He said he saw you shoot at the same time, and
only one of you hit him. I hope hit was you."

Jason turned--horrified, but she was calm and steady now.

"Hit was fitten fer you to be the one. Babe never killed yo'
daddy, Jasie--hit was Steve."




XLII

Gray Pendleton, hearing from a house-servant of the death of Steve
Hawn, hurried over to offer his help and sympathy, and Martha
Hawn, too quick for Jason's protest, let loose the fact that the
responsibility for that death lay between the two. To her simple
faith it was Jason's aim that the intervening hand of God had
directed, but she did not know what the law of this land might do
to her boy, and perhaps her motive was to shield him if possible.