"You say you
found that ring in the road some three months before--the--the--you know
what I mean--the body--was discovered?"
"Yes."
"You thought it might have been dropped by some one in passing?"
"I thought so, yes--it belonged to no one in camp."
"Before your cabin or on the highway?"
"Before my cabin."
"You are SURE?" There was something so very sweet and sad in her smile
that it oddly made Cass color.
"But my cabin is near the road," he suggested.
"I see! And there was nothing else; no paper nor envelope?"
"Nothing."
"And you kept it because of the odd resemblance one of the names bore to
yours?"
"Yes."
"For no other reason
"None." Yet Cass felt he was blushing.
"You'll forgive my repeating a question you have already answered, but
I am so anxious. There was some attempt to prove at the inquest that the
ring had been found on the body of--the unfortunate man. But you tell me
it was not so?"
"I can swear it."
"Good God--the traitor!" She took a hurried step forward, turned to the
window, and then came back to Cass with a voice broken with emotion. "I
have told you I could trust you. That ring was mine!"
She stopped, and then went on hurriedly. "Years ago I gave it to a man
who deceived and wronged me; a man whose life since then has been a
shame and disgrace to all who knew him. A man who, once, a gentleman,
sank so low as to become the associate of thieves and ruffians; sank
so low, that when he died, by violence--a traitor even to them--his own
confederates shrunk from him, and left him to fill a nameless grave.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50