I was half drunk, I guess, when I took up with him. And now he thinks he owns me.”

“Wal, Lize, wouldn’t it be interestin’ for me right now—if Link happened in?” drawled Nevada.

“Ha! Ha! More so for me, Jim,” she trilled. “I’ll give him something to be jealous about. But Link could never be interesting to you. He’s a bluff.”

“All the same, Lize, if you’ll excuse me I’ll stand up an’ let you have the chair,” replied Nevada, coolly, as he extricated himself and arose.

She swore her amaze. “What the devil’s come over you, Jim Lacy?” she demanded. “Why, two years ago, if Link Cawthorne had come roaring in here with two guns you’d have laughed and turned your back.”

“Two years ago! Lize, I’ve learned a lot in that long time.”

With sudden change of manner and lowering of voice she queried, sharply, “Jim, did you kill Less Setter?”

Nevada had braced himself for anything from this girl, so at the point-blank question he did not betray himself.

“Setter! … Is he daid?”

“Yes, he’s daid,” she replied, flippantly mimicking his Southern accent. “And a damn good thing… . Jim Lacy, I lay that to you.”

“Wal, Lize, I cain’t stop the wonderin’s of your mind, but you’re shore takin’ a lot upon yourself,” he returned, coldly.

She caught his hand.

“Jim, I didn’t mean to offend,” she said, hastily. “I remember you were queer about—you know—when you’d had some gunplay.”

“Ahuh? Wal, there’s no offense. Reckon I’m sort of hurt that you accuse me.”

“Jim, I notice you don’t deny it,” she retorted, with her brilliant searching eyes on him. “But listen. Only a few people in Lineville have heard Setter is dead. You know how we keep mum about that sort of thing. I heard it from a chance traveler who stayed here overnight. Setter had been shot by a wild-horse hunter over in California. That was all. That reminded me of something else. Last summer Steve Elkins saw you in a saloon in Hammell. He used to come through here occasionally and he’d seen you. So when I remembered that, I remembered you had a grudge on Setter, also that you loved wild-horse hunting, and I put two and two together and figured you had done for Setter. But I’ve never mentioned my suspicions to anyone. I’m not sure, but I don’t believe anyone here has connected you with that little gunplay. Cash Burridge was glad enough to hear the news, you can bet. He had been sent to Arizona by Setter on some deal only the two of them were in. Cash had a roll of money big enough to stop up a stovepipe. He went to Arizona. And he never saw Setter again. That I know, for he told me so. Well, he didn’t tell me how he’d benefited by Setter’s death.