His face
lacked expression.
"Someone to see you, Lawler," he grunted, gruffly. "Wants to talk to you
alone. I'll be right outside, so's you can call me when you've got
enough of it."
He pushed the door open, and Della Wharton stepped in.
Moreton closed the door, and Della stood watching Lawler steadily.
Lawler had been standing near one of the rear windows, and when he
recognized his visitor he came forward and stood within three or four
paces of her.
"Well, Miss Wharton?" he said, quietly.
"I heard you were here, Lawler," she said, evenly, her voice
expressionless. "In fact, I saw the sheriff bring you in, last night."
"You expected me, I presume?"
The sarcasm in his voice brought a faint glow to her cheeks. But her
gaze was level and steady, containing much inquiry.
"Yes," she said slowly; "I expected you to be brought here. You know, of
course, about the charge I brought against you?"
"Why did you do it, Miss Wharton?"
She laughed mirthlessly. "Why? I don't know, Lawler. I expect I did it
because I felt I ought to tell the truth."
Lawler's grim smile did not seem to affect her. She met it steadily.
"You say in your charge that I deliberately planned to kill Link and
Givens; you said I laid in wait for them at the door.
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