Charles left his hoe in the barn and started toward the front of the house. Was he mistaken, or did he see a group of three men near the steps? Yes, and Rowland was one of them. As he passed through the gate he noted the big revolvers belted around the waists of the strangers. They were strong, well-built, sturdy men of the mountains in broad-brimmed felt hats. They evidently saw him, eyed him steadily as he came up the walk, and stood aside silently as he fearlessly ascended the steps. He thought they were going to arrest him, had no sense of objection to it, and was surprised when they neither spoke nor moved. As for Rowland, he simply nodded coldly and Charles went on up to his room.
He went to a window. It was open and he heard the mumbled voices of the men below, but could not see them. He stood listening.
"Oh, it is all right, Colonel," one of the men said. "You\'ve done all you can do. The sheriff thinks the thing looks shaky, and he wants to be on the safe side. There is a big reward out for those chaps and he thinks the fellow that was so free with his money in Tobe Keith\'s case, and your man that was with him at the time, are two of them."
"I\'ve heard all that from the sheriff himself," Rowland answered. "You may think it strange of us, but we are all willing to trust Mr. Brown. He has done good work here, and has been more than a friend."
"But you say yourself, Colonel, that you don\'t know a thing about him," came the answer. "You don\'t know where he comes from, what his connections are, or anything."
"That\'s all true," Rowland admitted, wearily. "I\'ve never believed in prying into the private affairs of people. He is doing for us more than he agreed to do, and I am sure he is an educated gentleman who may have met with misfortune of some sort. I\'ve never thought he was a happy man, and I\'ve been sorry for him. I wish I could befriend him; and if you will give me a chance—"
Charles listened no longer. He had made up his mind as to what he would do. Turning, he went deliberately down-stairs and out to the group. They looked at him in surprise as he approached, and appeared to be somewhat abashed.
"Gentlemen," Charles began, calmly, "pardon me for interrupting your conversation, but I have reason to believe that you are here on my account. Am I right?"
"Well, yes," one of the men said, awkwardly, as he shifted from one of his heavily booted feet to the other. "You see, we are deputies under the sheriff\'s orders."
"I thought so," Charles answered, "and I\'ve come to ask a favor of you. The fact that you are watching me under this gentleman\'s roof is very mortifying to me, for I respect his kindness and his hospitality, and I want to ask if there is any reason why you may not arrest me and take me elsewhere?"
The question astounded them. The two men exchanged swift glances of inquiry. "Why—why, we have had no such orders, you see," the deputy stammered. "We are only doing as we were directed."
"But a man has a right to decent treatment before he is proved guilty of a charge," Charles went on, "and this constant shadowing of this house because I am here is not fair to me or the family. I am a laborer on this place—that and nothing more—and I demand that you either withdraw from these premises or take me with you for safekeeping."
Charles heard a gasp behind him, and saw Mary standing in the doorway, pale as death and trembling.
"What are you saying?" she cried, and she came forward and caught the arm of her lover. "You are not going! You are not!"
"Daughter! Daughter!" Rowland protested, in a sinking voice, "be careful—be careful! Daughter, be careful!"
"He is not going!" she repeated. "It is a shame, an outrage! Father, if he goes, I go. Understand that for once and all."
An awkward pause ensued. Charles stood like a man of granite, his head up, his eyes fixed on the deputies; across his face the whip of pain had left its mark.
"We have no orders," said the man who had spoken before, "except to hang around here and see if that friend of yours comes back, or any other suspicious stranger. We can\'t take you till we have orders, and we can\'t let up on our guard, either. There are four of us—two for night, and two for day work."
Rowland looked at his daughter wistfully. There was a suggestion of slow rising emotion in his wrinkled face as he spoke.
"Tell Sheriff Frazier for me, boys, that I will furnish a bond for any amount in Mr. Brown\'s behalf, and that I hope he will do what Mr. Brown wishes in regard to lifting this—this surveillance."
"Mr. Rowland," Charles cried out, urgently, "you mustn\'t do that. I don\'t deserve it at your hands. I\'m a stranger without a dollar to my name."
"He does deserve it, father. You are right," said Mary, as she swept to her father\'s side and locked her arm in his. "He is the best and truest friend we ever had, and you will never regret this."
The old white head rocked up and down deliberately. "Yes, tell the sheriff what I said, and do it at once if possible."
"One of us will see him right away," was the deputy\'s answer, as both of them clattered down the steps and strode toward the gate.
Charles started forward as if to utter a further protest, but Mary sprang to his side.
"Hush!" she cried. "Father wants to do this. Let him! It is a poor enough return for what you have done for us."
Turning suddenly, as if to hide her emotion, she went into the house. Rowland and Charles stood facing each other in the gathering dusk. From the direction of the kitchen came the singing voices of Kenneth and Martin, who were unconscious of the tragedy being enacted so close at hand. There was a light rising into the old face of the planter which Charles had never seen there before. Rowland laid his hand on his shoulder and let it lie there gently, almost tenderly.
"You have won the heart of my daughter," he began. "She is the image of her mother, and the man who has such a love has all the world can give that is worth having. I congratulate you, sir. For her sake I must make your cause my own. You have helped me free my sons; you must help me save my daughter. She could not survive your downfall—I know that because I knew her mother. Tell me, as a man facing a man, are these charges true?"
"They are not. I swear they are not."
"Thank God! That is all I want to know!" Rowland held out his hand and, taking that of Charles, he pressed it tightly. He was about to withdraw in his stately way when Charles drew him back.
"Wait," he faltered. "As I\'ve said, these charges are wholly unfounded, but under the circumstances it is my duty to you to tell you what your daughter has failed to mention, and that is that there are things in my life which I have pledged my honor never to reveal—things concerning others more than myself—"
"Then don\'t mention them," Rowland said, firmly. "Do your duty as you see it and God will take care of you. I have suspected that you may be keeping back something, but that is your right. Now let\'s go in to supper. But wait a moment. I want to speak of something psychological. Do you know that a man of my age can be turned from almost a lifelong purpose in an instant? You have seen me working on that pondero............