"Call out to me all you can,

I'll never look back.

I am a man whose soul

got caught in the tracks."

– Needtobreathe, "Disaster Road"

As soon as the law came, took the body, and went, Mary left a note in their secret drop telling Arthur to meet her at the barn as soon as possible, in the imperative, and requesting that he leave his horse far enough behind that he would attract absolutely no attention when he approached the barn.

She had to see his reaction for herself when he saw the scene where Billy had been killed. When Arthur arrived, she was ready and waiting for him.

"What's going on?" he said.

She quickly took him inside the barn.

"Are you sure it's all right for me to be here?" he said. "Can't imagine why you had me come here, of all places. Must be important."

"Look there," she said pointing.

He followed her finger to a large red stain in the dirt, something he was not unaccustomed to. "Sweet Jesus," he mumbled to himself, throwing his head back. "Who died?" he groaned and looked at her, hoping it wasn't her young brother.

"Billy, daddy's new hand," she said. "And he didn't just die. He was killed. Stabbed in the night. Right here."

"Oh," Arthur said looking down at the stain. He gave his head a single shake. "Poor miserable bastard." He lifted his head to see Mary peering at him.

Mary tried to appear calm, but her frustration at the entire situation began to needle its way out. She started to fold her arms, but thought better of it. "Where were you last night?" she asked.

It took just a moment, and Arthur caught her meaning. "Wha— You think I…?" He pointed to his own chest.

"I'm not certain of anything anymore, Arthur," she said throwing her hands down. "I have to ask. There's going to be an inquiry anyway; and if I know my father at all, he will make sure your name comes up. Best you tell me the truth now, and we get the air clear between us. Where were you last night?" she said more firmly.

"Mary," he shook his head. "You gotta know I didn't do this. Why would I? And lose you? Why would I take that risk?"

"My father seemed to be of the opinion that you'd think it'd be in your best interest in that regard."

"Oh, so he's been whisperin' in your ear now, has he? Poisoning you, turnin' you against me?!"

"He's always been against you, Arthur. Don't you think if he could turn me, he would've done it by now?"

He paused and gave a small nod. "Well, I guess that's true." He squinted his eyes in annoyance and derision. "If I really wanted to get rid of the guy, do you honestly think I'd leave the body around? Come on, Mary, I've got more of a brain than that."

"Why won't you answer me? Just tell me where you were!"

"You don't wanna know," he said quietly.

"Oh, I do!" she yelled.

"Look, let me make it real simple for you," he said, his tone rising. "I wasn't here! I did not kill him!" He shook his head. "That's the truth." When she didn't immediately respond, he pursued the matter. "I did not do that!" he said, raising his eyebrows and pointing toward the dried pool of blood in the dirt where Billy's lifeless body had been. "Look, if we really wanted to rob a ranch, we wouldn't stop at one ranch hand."

"Arthur!" she whined, not wanting to hear anymore.

He continued over her voice, "And we'd take our guns. The threat of a gun alone usually does it. We'd make sure it was quick and clean-like. This was done in the dead of night, with a knife. Coulda been one of them in that other gang moved in recently, I don't know. But that was not me. Look at me." He paused with a look that arrested her, "I did not kill him."

Mary looked into his eyes and saw what she believed to be the truth. But she had a nagging feeling that it was not the whole truth. She lifted her chin slightly as she kept her eyes on him.

Arthur continued, "I swear to you, I did not kill him." His eyes darted away from her gaze. He cleared his throat and squinted his eyes, and his expression slid to one side. "But I have done…similar things." He watched as Mary's eyes went wide, and her expression went vacant. He struggled to recapture her attention. When he did, he saw what reminded him of a startled fawn. "What'd you think being an outlaw was?!" he yelled. "You think people give us their cash willingly?!"

Mary's jaw slowly fell agape, and her eyebrows knitted together in a pained expression. Still, she wouldn't quite look at him.

He did everything he could to try to snap her out of it—even taking her by the arms and shaking her—to no avail. He started to panic. "Mary, come on," he moaned. "It's me here! You're safe, you know that!"

Finally she blinked, and her eyes began to glisten. "I…uh…" she whispered, her voice raspy. "I need to, uh…" She began to step away from him, her footing faltering for a moment.

He caught her by the forearm, steadying her. "Don't do this to me now, Mary," he said, his concern for both her and their relationship mingled in his voice.

She blinked hard, as if she couldn't see much of anything. Finally she shook her head and stabled herself. "I have to go, Arthur." She turned her head to look at him, and he saw the pain etched on her face. "I can't be here. I need…I have to go."

He was at a loss as he watched her walk away again.