Lifting her eyes she saw--ashen, shaken, stricken--not the Bishop but the man! And beyond him, from round the corner came that soft, silvery step.

A long black boot with a gleaming spur swept into sight--and then Lassiter! Bishop Dyer did not see, did not hear: he stared at Jane in the throes of sudden revelation.
"Ah, I understand!" he cried, in hoarse accents.

"That's why you made love to this Lassiter--to bind his hands!" It was Jane's gaze riveted upon the rider that made Bishop Dyer turn.
Then clear sight failed her.

Dizzily, in a blur, she saw the Bishop's hand jerk to his hip.

She saw gleam of blue and spout of red.