It had rested there, calm and warm and enthralling, and it told Fairchild more than all the words in the world could have told just then--that she realized that his arm was about her--and that she wanted it there.

Some way, after that, the stretch of road faded swiftly.

Almost before he realized it, they were at the outskirts of the city.
Grudgingly he gave up his hold upon her, as they hurried for the sidewalks and for the sheriff's office.

There Fairchild did not attempt to talk--he left it all to Anita, and Bardwell, the sheriff, listened.

Taylor Bill had confessed to the robbery at the Old Times dance and to his attempt to so arrange the evidence that the blame would fall on Harry.