Ellie sat in the jail cell, her expression beatific as the marshall, Micah Torrance, questioned her. The sight of Bantry lying in his blood had calmed the turmoil in her heart and she barely heard the words the man was throwing at her. Then the boy came in.

Micah hurried over to him. "How's Lucas?"

"He's not good." The boy was in tears. "Doc says he lost so much blood…"

"He'll make it, Mark."

The boy saw Ellie and threw himself at the bars. "If my pa dies I hope you hang!"

"Mark!" The marshal pulled the boy away. "If your father heard you talk like that it would break his heart!"

Ellie had heard enough. "You mean that polecat might live after all?" Her small hands balled up in fists.

"He better live," said Micah coldly. "If Lucas doesn't make it, you're going to have more than his son wanting you to hang."

"Lucas." Ellie rolled the name around in her mouth. "So that's the name he's going by."

The marshal stomped up to the bars. "Young woman, so far you've refused to answer any questions but I think it's about time you started talking. The man you shot is Lucas McCain. This is his son, Mark. They're ranchers and they've been living here going on five years."

"Five years?" Ellie laughed hysterically. "That sounds about right." She hit the bars and said venomously, "Six years ago Earl Bantry...he…"

"Earl Bantry?" Mark whispered. "Oh, my God. You got it all wrong. Earl Bantry's dead. My pa killed him."

"It's true." Micah nodded his head. "It must have been almost a month ago Earl Bantry rode into North Fork. I'll grant you he looked like Lucas. People noticed it so much that he got curious about the resemblance and went out to Lucas and Mark's ranch."

"I don't believe you," said Ellie calmly.

"Well, you can believe this!" Mark started towards the cell and the marshal grabbed him. "Let me go, Micah!" The marshal retained his grip and the boy spat, "Earl Bantry tore up our house and beat up my pa! He was gonna kill us both but Pa got his rifle and shot him dead."

For the first time Ellie felt uncertain. "You mean I shot the wrong man?"

Micah huffed. "I'll say you did."

The door to the marshal's office opened and an older man came in. "Mark, your father is asking for you."

The boy's face drained of color. "Doc, is he…" His voice broke.

"No, no," said the doctor bracingly. "He's very weak and he's going to need some rest and care but he's out of danger. Come on, boy!"

They went out and Micah looked consideringly at Ellie. "Consider yourself fortunate, miss. Instead of hanging for murder, Lucas might even forgive you."