"
"The ayes have it," the chairman proclaimed, coming down from his place
and proceeding to build the fire, for he was a part-owner of the cabin
and cook for his crowd.
CHAPTER XXVII
Frona turned to St. Vincent as the last of the crowd filed out. He
clutched her hands spasmodically, like a drowning man.
"Do believe me, Frona. Promise me."
Her face flushed. "You are excited," she said, "or you would not say
such things. Not that I blame you," she relented. "I hardly imagine
the situation can be anything else but exciting."
"Yes, and well I know it," he answered, bitterly. "I am acting like a
fool, and I can't help it. The strain has been terrible. And as
though the horror of Borg's end were not enough, to be considered the
murderer, and haled up for mob justice! Forgive me, Frona. I am
beside myself. Of course, I know that you will believe me."
"Then tell me, Gregory."
"In the first place, the woman, Bella, lied. She must have been crazed
to make that dying statement when I fought as I did for her and Borg.
That is the only explanation--"
"Begin at the beginning," she interrupted. "Remember, I know nothing."
He settled himself more comfortably on the stool, and rolled a
cigarette as he took up the history of the previous night.
"It must have been about one in the morning when I was awakened by the
lighting of the slush-lamp.
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