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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Firebrand' Trevison
+
+Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+Illustrator: P. V. E. Ivory
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26951]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'FIREBRAND' TREVISON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: INSTINCTIVELY EACH KNEW THE OTHER FOR A FOE. [Page 25]]
+
+
+
+
+"FIREBRAND" TREVISON
+
+BY
+CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER
+
+AUTHOR OF
+THE VENGENCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE,
+THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y,
+THE RANGE BOSS, Etc.
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY
+P. V. E. IVORY
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
+
+Made in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+Copyright
+A. C. McClurg & Co.
+1918
+
+Published September, 1918
+
+Copyrighted in Great Britain
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                                PAGE
+      I  The Rider of the Black Horse     1
+     II  In Which Hatred is Born         10
+    III  Beating a Good Man              30
+     IV  The Long Arm of Power           42
+      V  A Telegram and a Girl           53
+     VI  A Judicial Puppet               71
+    VII  Two Letters Go East             79
+   VIII  The Chaos of Creation           82
+     IX  Straight Talk                   93
+      X  The Spirit of Manti            100
+     XI  For the "Kiddies"              109
+    XII  Exposed to the Sunlight        113
+   XIII  Another Letter                 130
+    XIV  A Rumble Of War                137
+     XV  A Mutual Benefit Association   146
+    XVI  Wherein A Woman Lies           151
+   XVII  Justice Vs. Law                155
+  XVIII  Law Invoked and Defied         169
+    XIX  A Woman Rides in Vain          183
+     XX  And Rides Again--in Vain       192
+    XXI  Another Woman Rides            209
+   XXII  A Man Errs--and Pays           221
+  XXIII  First Principles               234
+   XXIV  Another Woman Lies             253
+    XXV  In the Dark                    264
+   XXVI  The Ashes                      273
+  XXVII  The Fight                      290
+ XXVIII  The Dregs                      310
+   XXIX  The Calm                       321
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                                                      PAGE
+
+Instinctively each knew the other for a foe.  Frontispiece
+
+"You are going to marry me--some day. That's
+what I think of you!"                                   97
+
+"You men are blind. Corrigan is a crook who
+will stop at nothing."                                 283
+
+
+
+
+"FIREBRAND" TREVISON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE RIDER OF THE BLACK HORSE
+
+
+The trail from the Diamond K broke around the base of a low hill dotted
+thickly with scraggly oak and fir, then stretched away, straight and
+almost level (except for a deep cut where the railroad gang and a steam
+shovel were eating into a hundred-foot hill) to Manti. A month before,
+there had been no Manti, and six months before that there had been no
+railroad. The railroad and the town had followed in the wake of a party of
+khaki-clad men that had made reasonably fast progress through the country,
+leaving a trail of wooden stakes and little stone monuments behind.
+Previously, an agent of the railroad company had bartered through,
+securing a right-of-way. The fruit of the efforts of these men was a dark
+gash on a sun-scorched level, and two lines of steel laid as straight as
+skilled eye and transit could make them--and Manti.
+
+Manti could not be overlooked, for the town obtruded upon the vision from
+where "Brand" Trevison was jogging along the Diamond K trail astride his
+big black horse, Nigger. Manti dominated the landscape, not because it was
+big and imposing, but because it was new. Manti's buildings were
+scattered--there had been no need for crowding; but from a distance--from
+Trevison's distance, for instance, which was a matter of three miles or
+so--Manti looked insignificant, toy-like, in comparison with the vast
+world on whose bosom it sat. Manti seemed futile, ridiculous. But Trevison
+knew that the coming of the railroad marked an epoch, that the two thin,
+thread-like lines of steel were the tentacles of the man-made monster that
+had gripped the East--business reaching out for newer fields--and that
+Manti, futile and ridiculous as it seemed, was an outpost fortified by
+unlimited resource. Manti had come to stay.
+
+And the cattle business was going, Trevison knew. The railroad company had
+built corrals at Manti, and Trevison knew they would be needed for several
+years to come. But he could foresee the day when they would be replaced by
+building and factory. Business was extending its lines, cattle must
+retreat before them. Several homesteaders had already appeared in the
+country, erecting fences around their claims. One of the homesteaders,
+when Trevison had come upon him a few days before, had impertinently
+inquired why Trevison did not fence the Diamond K range. Fence in five
+thousand acres! It had never been done in this section of the country.
+Trevison had permitted himself a cold grin, and had kept his answer to
+himself. The incident was not important, but it foreshadowed a day when a
+dozen like inquiries would make the building of a range fence imperative.
+
+Trevison already felt the irritation of congestion--the presence of the
+homesteaders nettled him. He frowned as he rode. A year ago he would have
+sold out--cattle, land and buildings--at the market price. But at that
+time he had not known the value of his land. Now--
+
+He kicked Nigger in the ribs and straightened in the saddle, grinning.
+
+"She's not for sale now--eh, Nig?"
+
+Five minutes later he halted the black at the crest of the big railroad
+cut and looked over the edge appraisingly. Fifty laborers--directed by a
+mammoth personage in dirty blue overalls, boots, woolen shirt, and a
+wide-brimmed felt hat, and with a face undeniably Irish--were working
+frenziedly to keep pace with the huge steam shovel, whose iron jaws were
+biting into the earth with a regularity that must have been discouraging
+to its human rivals. A train of flat-cars, almost loaded, was on the track
+of the cut, and a dinky engine attached to them wheezed steam from a
+safety valve, the engineer and fireman lounging out of the cab window,
+lazily watching.
+
+Patrick Carson, the personage--construction boss, good-natured, keen,
+observant--was leaning against a boulder at the side of the track, talking
+to the engineer at the instant Trevison appeared at the top of the cut. He
+glanced up, his eyes lighting.
+
+"There's thot mon, Trevison, ag'in, Murph'," he said to the engineer.
+"Bedad, he's a pitcher now, ain't he?"
+
+An imposing figure Trevison certainly was. Horse and rider were outlined
+against the sky, and in the dear light every muscle and feature of man and
+beast stood but boldly and distinctly. The big black horse was a powerful
+brute, tall and rangy, with speed and courage showing plainly in contour,
+nostril and eye; and with head and ears erect he stood motionless,
+statuesque, heroic. His rider seemed to have been proportioned to fit the
+horse. Tall, slender of waist, broad of shoulder, straight, he sat loosely
+in the saddle looking at the scene below him, unconscious of the
+admiration he excited. Poetic fancies stirred Carson vaguely.
+
+"Luk at 'im now, Murph; wid his big hat, his leather pants, his spurs, an'
+the rist av his conthraptions! There's a divvil av a conthrast here now,
+if ye'd only glimpse it. This civillyzation, ripraysinted be this
+railroad, don't seem to fit, noways. It's like it had butted into a
+pitcher book! Ain't he a darlin'?"
+
+"I've never seen him up close," said Murphy. There was none of Carson's
+enthusiasm in his voice. "It's always seemed to me that a felluh who rigs
+himself out like that has got a lot of show-off stuff in him."
+
+"The first time I clapped me eyes on wan av them cowbhoys I thought so,
+too," said Carson. "That was back on the other section. But I seen so
+manny av them rigged out like thot, thot I comminced to askin' questions.
+It's a domned purposeful rig, mon. The big felt hat is a daisy for keepin'
+off the sun, an' that gaudy bit av a rag around his neck keeps the sun and
+sand from blisterin' the skin. The leather pants is to keep his legs from
+gettin' clawed up be the thorns av prickly pear an' what not, which he's
+got to ride through, an' the high heels is to keep his feet from slippin'
+through the stirrups. A kid c'ud tell ye what he carries the young cannon
+for, an' why he wears it so low on his hip. Ye've nivver seen him up
+close, eh Murph'? Well, I'm askin' him down so's ye can have a good look
+at him." He stepped back from the boulder and waved a hand at Trevison,
+shouting:
+
+"Make it a real visit, bhoy!"
+
+"I'll be pullin' out of here before he can get around," said Murphy,
+noting that the last car was almost filled.
+
+Carson chuckled. "Hold tight," he warned; "he's comin'."
+
+The side of the cut was steep, and the soft sand and clay did not make a
+secure footing. But when the black received the signal from Trevison he
+did not hesitate. Crouching like a great cat at the edge, he slid his
+forelegs over until his hoofs sank deep into the side of the cut. Then
+with a gentle lurch he drew his hind legs after him, and an instant later
+was gingerly descending, his rider leaning far back in the saddle, the
+reins held loosely in his hands.
+
+It looked simple enough, the way the black was doing it, and Trevison's
+demeanor indicated perfect trust in the animal and in his own skill as a
+rider. But the laborers ceased working and watched, grouped, gesturing;
+the staccato coughing of the steam shovel died gaspingly, as the engineer
+shut off the engine and stood, rooted, his mouth agape; the fireman in the
+dinky engine held tightly to the cab window. Murphy muttered in
+astonishment, and Carson chuckled admiringly, for the descent was a full
+hundred feet, and there were few men in the railroad gang that would have
+dared to risk the wall on foot.
+
+The black had gained impetus with distance. A third of the slope had been
+covered when he struck some loose earth that shifted with his weight and
+carried his hind quarters to one side and off balance. Instantly the rider
+swung his body toward the wall of the cut, twisted in the saddle and swung
+the black squarely around, the animal scrambling like a cat. The black
+stood, braced, facing the crest of the cut, while the dislodged earth,
+preceded by pebbles and small boulders, clattered down behind him. Then,
+under the urge of Trevison's gentle hand and voice, the black wheeled
+again and faced the descent.
+
+"I wouldn't ride a horse down there for the damned railroad!" declared
+Murphy.
+
+"Thrue for ye--ye c'udn't," grinned Carson.
+
+"A man could ride anywhere with a horse like that!" remarked the fireman,
+fascinated.
+
+"Ye'd have brought a cropper in that slide, an' the road wud be minus a
+coal-heaver!" said Carson. "Wud ye luk at him now!"
+
+The black was coming down, forelegs asprawl, his hind quarters sliding in
+the sand. Twice as his fore-hoofs struck some slight obstruction his hind
+quarters lifted and he stood, balanced, on his forelegs, and each time
+Trevison averted the impending catastrophe by throwing himself far back in
+the saddle and slapping the black's hips sharply.
+
+"He's a circus rider!" shouted Carson, gleefully. "He's got the coolest
+head of anny mon I iver seen! He's a divvil, thot mon!"
+
+The descent was spectacular, but it was apparent that Trevison cared
+little for its effect upon his audience, for as he struck the level and
+came riding toward Carson and the others, there was no sign of
+self-consciousness in his face or manner. He smiled faintly, though, as a
+cheer from the laborers reached his ears. In the next instant he had
+halted Nigger near the dinky engine, and Carson was introducing him to the
+engineer and fireman.
+
+Looking at Trevison "close up," Murphy was constrained to mentally label
+him "some man," and he regretted his deprecatory words of a few minutes
+before. Plainly, there was no "show-off stuff" in Trevison. His feat of
+riding down the wall of the cut had not been performed to impress anyone;
+the look of reckless abandon in the otherwise serene eyes that held
+Murphy's steadily, convinced the engineer that the man had merely
+responded to a dare-devil impulse. There was something in Trevison's
+appearance that suggested an entire disregard of fear. The engineer had
+watched the face of a brother of his craft one night when the latter had
+been driving a roaring monster down a grade at record-breaking speed into
+a wall of rain-soaked darkness out of which might thunder at any instant
+another roaring monster, coming in the opposite direction. There had been
+a mistake in orders, and the train was running against time to make a
+switch. Several times during the ride Murphy had caught a glimpse of the
+engineer's face, and the eyes had haunted him since--defiance of death,
+contempt of consequences, had been reflected in them. Trevison's eyes
+reminded him of the engineer's. But in Trevison's eyes was an added
+expression--cold humor. The engineer of Murphy's recollection would have
+met death dauntlessly. Trevison would meet it no less dauntlessly, but
+would mock at it. Murphy looked long and admiringly at him, noting the
+deep chest, the heavy muscles, the blue-black sheen of his freshly-shaven
+chin and jaw under the tan; the firm, mobile mouth, the aggressive set to
+his head. Murphy set his age down at twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Murphy
+was sixty himself--the age that appreciates, and secretly envies, the
+virility of youth. Carson was complimenting Trevison on his descent of the
+wall of the cut.
+
+"You're a daisy rider, me bhoy!"
+
+"Nigger's a clever horse," smiled Trevison. Murphy was pleased that he was
+giving the animal the credit. "Nigger's well trained. He's wiser than some
+men. Tricky, too." He patted the sleek, muscular neck of the beast and the
+animal whinnied gently. "He's careful of his master, though," laughed
+Trevison. "A man pulled a gun on me, right after I'd got Nigger. He had
+the drop, and he meant business. I had to shoot. To disconcert the fellow,
+I had to jump Nigger against him. Since then, whenever Nigger sees a gun
+in anyone's hand, he thinks it's time to bowl that man over. There's no
+holding him. He won't even stand for anyone pulling a handkerchief out of
+a hip pocket when I'm on him." Trevison grinned. "Try it, Carson, but get
+that boulder between you and Nigger before you do."
+
+"I don't like the look av the baste's eye," declined the Irishman. "I
+wudn't doubt ye're worrud for the wurrold. But he wudn't jump a mon divvil
+a bit quicker than his master, or I'm a sinner!"
+
+Trevison's eyes twinkled. "You're a good construction boss, Carson. But
+I'm glad to see that you're getting more considerate."
+
+"Av what?"
+
+"Of your men." Trevison glanced back; he had looked once before, out of
+the tail of his eye. The laborers were idling in the cut, enjoying the
+brief rest, taking advantage of Carson's momentary dereliction, for the
+last car had been filled.
+
+"I'll be rayported yet, begob!"
+
+Carson waved his hands, and the laborers dove for the flat-cars. When the
+last man was aboard, the engine coughed and moved slowly away. Carson
+climbed into the engine-cab, with a shout: "So-long bhoy!" to Trevison.
+The latter held Nigger with a firm rein, for the animal was dancing at the
+noise made by the engine, and as the cars filed past him, running faster
+now, the laborers grinned at him and respectfully raised their hats. For
+they had come from one of the Latin countries of Europe, and for them, in
+the person of this heroic figure of a man who had ridden his horse down
+the steep wall of the cut, was romance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+IN WHICH HATRED IS BORN
+
+
+For some persons romance dwells in the new and the unusual, and for other
+persons it dwells not at all. Certain of Rosalind Benham's friends would
+have been able to see nothing but the crudities and squalor of Manti,
+viewing it as Miss Benham did, from one of the windows of her father's
+private car, which early that morning had been shunted upon a switch at
+the outskirts of town. Those friends would have seen nothing but a new
+town of weird and picturesque buildings, with more saloons than seemed to
+be needed in view of the noticeable lack of citizens. They would have
+shuddered at the dust-windrowed street, the litter of refuse, the dismal
+lonesomeness, the forlornness, the utter isolation, the desolation. Those
+friends would have failed to note the vast, silent reaches of green-brown
+plain that stretched and yawned into aching distances; the wonderfully
+blue and cloudless sky that covered it; they would have overlooked the
+timber groves that spread here and there over the face of the land, with
+their lure of mystery. No thoughts of the bigness of this country would
+have crept in upon them--except as they might have been reminded of the
+dreary distance from the glitter and the tinsel of the East. The
+mountains, distant and shining, would have meant nothing to them; the
+strong, pungent aroma of the sage might have nauseated them.
+
+But Miss Benham had caught her first glimpse of Manti and the surrounding
+country from a window of her berth in the car that morning just at dawn,
+and she loved it. She had lain for some time cuddled up in her bed,
+watching the sun rise over the distant mountains, and the breath of the
+sage, sweeping into the half-opened window, had carried with it something
+stronger--the lure of a virgin country.
+
+Aunt Agatha Benham, chaperon, forty--maiden lady from choice--various
+uncharitable persons hinted humorously of pursued eligibles--found
+Rosalind gazing ecstatically out of the berth window when she stirred and
+awoke shortly after nine. Agatha climbed out of her berth and sat on its
+edge, yawning sleepily.
+
+"This is Manti, I suppose," she said acridly, shoving the curtain aside
+and looking out of the window. "We should consider ourselves fortunate not
+to have had an adventure with Indians or outlaws. We have _that_ to be
+thankful for, at least."
+
+Agatha's sarcasm failed to penetrate the armor of Rosalind's unconcern--as
+Agatha's sarcasms always did. Agatha occupied a place in Rosalind's
+affections, but not in her scheme of enjoyment. Since she _must_ be
+chaperoned, Agatha was acceptable to her. But that did not mean that she
+made a confidante of Agatha. For Agatha was looking at the world through
+the eyes of Forty, and the vision of Twenty is somewhat more romantic.
+
+"Whatever your father thought of in permitting you to come out here is a
+mystery to me," pursued Agatha severely, as she fussed with her hair. "It
+was like him, though, to go to all this trouble--for me--merely to satisfy
+your curiosity about the country. I presume we shall be returning
+shortly."
+
+"Don't be impatient, Aunty," said the girl, still gazing out of the
+window. "I intend to stretch my legs before I return."
+
+"Mercy!" gasped Agatha; "such language! This barbaric country has affected
+you already, my dear. Legs!" She summoned horror into her expression, but
+it was lost on Rosalind, who still gazed out of the window. Indeed, from a
+certain light in the girl's eyes it might be adduced that she took some
+delight in shocking Agatha.
+
+"I shall stay here quite some time, I think," said Rosalind. "Daddy said
+there was no hurry; that he might come out here in a month, himself. And I
+have been dying to get away from the petty conventionalities of the East.
+I am going to be absolutely human for a while, Aunty. I am going to 'rough
+it'--that is, as much as one can rough it when one is domiciled in a
+private car. I am going to get a horse and have a look at the country. And
+Aunty--" here the girl's voice came chokingly, as though some deep emotion
+agitated her "--I am going to ride 'straddle'!"
+
+She did not look to see whether Agatha had survived this second shock--but
+Agatha had survived many such shocks. It was only when, after a silence of
+several minutes, Agatha spoke again, that the girl seemed to remember
+there was anybody in the compartment with her. Agatha's voice was laden
+with contempt:
+
+"Well, I don't know what you see in this outlandish place to compensate
+for what you miss at home."
+
+The girl did not look around. "A man on a black horse, Aunty," she said.
+"He has passed here twice. I have never seen such a horse. I don't
+remember to have ever seen a man quite like the rider. He looks
+positively--er--_heroish_! He is built like a Roman gladiator, he rides
+the black horse as though he had been sculptured on it, and his head has a
+set that makes one feel he has a mind of his own. He has furnished me with
+the only thrill that I have felt since we left New York!"
+
+"He hasn't seen _you_!" said Agatha, coldly; "of course you made sure of
+_that_?"
+
+The girl looked mischievously at the older woman. She ran her fingers
+through her hair--brown and vigorous-looking--then shaded her eyes with
+her hands and gazed at her reflection in a mirror near by. In deshabille
+she looked fresh and bewitching. She had looked like a radiant goddess to
+"Brand" Trevison, when he had accidentally caught a glimpse of her face at
+the window while she had been watching him. He had not known that the lady
+had just awakened from her beauty sleep. He would have sworn that she
+needed no beauty sleep. And he had deliberately ridden past the car again,
+hoping to get another glimpse of her. The girl smiled.
+
+"I am not so positive about that, Aunty. Let us not be prudish. If he saw
+me, he made no sign, and therefore he is a gentleman." She looked out of
+the window and smiled again. "There he is now, Aunty!"
+
+It was Agatha who parted the curtains, this time. The horseman's face was
+toward the window, and he saw her. An expression of puzzled astonishment
+glowed in his eyes, superseded quickly by disappointment, whereat Rosalind
+giggled softly and hid her tousled head in a pillow.
+
+"The impertinent brute! Rosalind, he dared to look directly at me, and I
+am sure he would have winked at me in another instant! A gentleman!" she
+said, coldly.
+
+"Don't be severe, Aunty. I'm sure he is a gentleman, for all his
+curiosity. See--there he is, riding away without so much as looking
+back!"
+
+Half an hour later the two women entered the dining-room just as a big,
+rather heavy-featured, but handsome man, came through the opposite door.
+He greeted both ladies effusively, and smilingly looked at his watch.
+
+"You over-slept this morning, ladies--don't you think? It's after ten.
+I've been rummaging around town, getting acquainted. It's rather an
+unfinished place, after the East. But in time--" He made a gesture,
+perhaps a silent prophecy that one day Manti would out-strip New York, and
+bowed the ladies to seats at table, talking while the colored waiter moved
+obsequiously about them.
+
+"I thought at first that your father was over-enthusiastic about Manti,
+Miss Benham," he continued. "But the more I see of it the firmer becomes
+my conviction that your father was right. There are tremendous
+possibilities for growth. Even now it is a rather fertile country. We
+shall make it hum, once the railroad and the dam are completed. It is a
+logical site for a town--there is no other within a hundred miles in any
+direction."
+
+"And you are to anticipate the town's growth--isn't that it, Mr.
+Corrigan?"
+
+"You put it very comprehensively, Miss Benham; but perhaps it would be
+better to say that I am the advance agent of prosperity--that sounds
+rather less mercenary. We must not allow the impression to get abroad that
+mere money is to be the motive power behind our efforts."
+
+"But money-making is the real motive, after all?" said Miss Benham,
+dryly.
+
+"I submit there are several driving forces in life, and that money-making
+is not the least compelling of them."
+
+"The other forces?" It seemed to Corrigan that Miss Benham's face was very
+serious. But Agatha, who knew Rosalind better than Corrigan knew her, was
+aware that the girl was merely demurely sarcastic.
+
+"Love and hatred are next," he said, slowly.
+
+"You would place money-making before love?" Rosalind bantered.
+
+"Money adds the proper flavor to love," laughed Corrigan. The laugh was
+laden with subtle significance and he looked straight at the girl, a deep
+fire slumbering in his eyes. "Yes," he said slowly, "money-making is a
+great passion. I have it. But I can hate, and love. And when I do either,
+it will be strongly. And then--"
+
+Agatha cleared her throat impatiently. Corrigan colored slightly, and Miss
+Benham smothered something, artfully directing the conversation into less
+personal channels:
+
+"You are going to build manufactories, organize banks, build municipal
+power-houses, speculate in real estate, and such things, I suppose?"
+
+"And build a dam. We already have a bank here, Miss Benham."
+
+"Will father be interested in those things?"
+
+"Silently. You understand, that being president of the railroad, your
+father must keep in the background. The actual promoting of these
+enterprises will be done by me."
+
+Miss Benham looked dreamily out of the window. Then she turned to Corrigan
+and gazed at him meditatively, though the expression in her eyes was so
+obviously impersonal that it chilled any amorous emotion that Corrigan
+might have felt.
+
+"I suppose you are right," she said. "It must be thrilling to feel a
+conscious power over the destiny of a community, to direct its progress,
+to manage it, and--er--figuratively to grab industries by their--" She
+looked slyly at Agatha "--lower extremities and shake the dollars out of
+them. Yes," she added, with a wistful glance through the window; "that
+must be more exciting than being merely in love."
+
+Agatha again followed Rosalind's gaze and saw the black horse standing in
+front of a store. She frowned, and observed stiffly:
+
+"It seems to me that the people in these small places--such as Manti--are
+not capable of managing the large enterprises that Mr. Corrigan speaks
+of." She looked at Rosalind, and the girl knew that she was deprecating
+the rider of the black horse. Rosalind smiled sweetly.
+
+"Oh, I am sure there must be _some_ intelligent persons among them!"
+
+"As a rule," stated Corrigan, dogmatically, "the first citizens of any
+town are an uncouth and worthless set."
+
+"The Four Hundred would take exception to that!" laughed Rosalind.
+
+Corrigan laughed with her. "You know what I mean, of course. Take Manti,
+for instance. Or any new western town. The lowest elements of society are
+represented; most of the people are very ignorant and criminal."
+
+The girl looked sharply at Corrigan, though he was not aware of the
+glance. Was there a secret understanding between Corrigan and Agatha? Had
+Corrigan also some knowledge of the rider's pilgrimages past the car
+window? Both had maligned the rider. But the girl had seen intelligence on
+the face of the rider, and something in the set of his head had told her
+that he was not a criminal. And despite his picturesque rigging, and the
+atmosphere of the great waste places that seemed to envelop him, he had
+made a deeper impression on her than had Corrigan, darkly handsome,
+well-groomed, a polished product of polite convention and breeding, whom
+her father wanted her to marry.
+
+"Well," she said, looking at the black horse; "I intend to observe Manti's
+citizens more closely before attempting to express an opinion."
+
+Half an hour later, in response to Corrigan's invitation, Rosalind was
+walking down Manti's one street, Corrigan beside her. Corrigan had donned
+khaki clothing, a broad, felt hat, boots, neckerchief. But in spite of the
+change of garments there was a poise, an atmosphere about him, that hinted
+strongly of the graces of civilization. Rosalind felt a flash of pride in
+him. He was big, masterful, fascinating.
+
+Manti seemed to be fraudulent, farcical, upon closer inspection. For one
+thing, its crudeness was more glaring, and its unpainted board fronts
+looked flimsy, transient. Compared to the substantial buildings of the
+East, Manti's structures were hovels. Here was the primitive town in the
+first flush of its creation. Miss Benham did not laugh, for a mental
+picture rose before her--a bit of wild New England coast, a lowering sky,
+a group of Old-world pilgrims shivering around a blazing fire in the open,
+a ship in the offing. That also was a band of first citizens; that picture
+and the one made by Manti typified the spirit of America.
+
+There were perhaps twenty buildings. Corrigan took her into several of
+them. But, she noted, he did not take her into the store in front of which
+was the black horse. She was introduced to several of the proprietors.
+Twice she overheard parts of the conversation carried on between Corrigan
+and the proprietors. In each case the conversation was the same:
+
+"Do you own this property?"
+
+"The building."
+
+"Who owns the land?"
+
+"A company in New York."
+
+Corrigan introduced himself as the manager of the company, and spoke of
+erecting an office. The two men spoke about their "leases." The latter
+seemed to have been limited to two months.
+
+"See me before your lease expires," she heard Corrigan tell the men.
+
+"Does the railroad own the town site?" asked Rosalind as they emerged from
+the last store.
+
+"Yes. And leases are going to be more valuable presently."
+
+"You don't mean that you are going to extort money from them--after they
+have gone to the expense of erecting buildings?"
+
+His smile was pleasant. "They will be treated with the utmost
+consideration, Miss Benham."
+
+He ushered her into the bank. Like the other buildings, the bank was of
+frame construction. Its only resemblance to a bank was in the huge safe
+that stood in the rear of the room, and a heavy wire netting behind which
+ran a counter. Some chairs and a desk were behind the counter, and at the
+desk sat a man of probably forty, who got up at the entrance of his
+visitors and approached them, grinning and holding out a hand to
+Corrigan.
+
+"So you're here at last, Jeff," he said. "I saw the car on the switch this
+morning. The show will open pretty soon now, eh?" He looked inquiringly at
+Rosalind, and Corrigan presented her. She heard the man's name, "Mr.
+Crofton Braman," softly spoken by her escort, and she acknowledged the
+introduction formally and walked to the door, where she stood looking out
+into the street.
+
+Braman repelled her--she did not know why. A certain crafty gleam of his
+eyes, perhaps, strangely blended with a bold intentness as he had looked
+at her; a too effusive manner; a smoothly ingratiating smile--these
+evidences of character somehow made her link him with schemes and plots.
+
+She did not reflect long over Braman. Across the street she saw the rider
+of the black horse standing beside the animal at a hitching rail in front
+of the store that Corrigan had passed without entering. Viewed from this
+distance, the rider's face was more distinct, and she saw that he was
+good-looking--quite as good-looking as Corrigan, though of a different
+type. Standing, he did not seem to be so tall as Corrigan, nor was he
+quite so bulky. But he was lithe and powerful, and in his movements, as he
+unhitched the black horse, threw the reins over its head and patted its
+neck, was an ease and grace that made Rosalind's eyes sparkle with
+admiration.
+
+The rider seemed to be in no hurry to mount his horse. The girl was
+certain that twice as he patted the animal's neck he stole glances at her,
+and a stain appeared in her cheeks, for she remembered the car window.
+
+And then she heard a voice greet the rider. A man came out of the door of
+one of the saloons, glanced at the rider and raised his voice, joyously:
+
+"Well, if it ain't ol' 'Brand'! Where in hell you been keepin' yourself? I
+ain't seen you for a week!"
+
+Friendship was speaking here, and the girl's heart leaped in sympathy. She
+watched with a smile as the other man reached the rider's side and wrung
+his hand warmly. Such effusiveness would have been thought hypocritical in
+the East; humanness was always frowned upon. But what pleased the girl
+most was this evidence that the rider was well liked. Additional evidence
+on this point collected quickly. It came from several doors, in the shapes
+of other men who had heard the first man's shout, and presently the rider
+was surrounded by many friends.
+
+The girl was deeply interested. She forgot Braman, Corrigan--forgot that
+she was standing in the doorway of the bank. She was seeing humanity
+stripped of conventionalities; these people were not governed by the
+intimidating regard for public opinion that so effectively stifled warm
+impulses among the persons she knew.
+
+She heard another man call to him, and she found herself saying: "'Brand'!
+What an odd name!" But it seemed to fit him; he was of a type that one
+sees rarely--clean, big, athletic, virile, magnetic. His personality
+dominated the group; upon him interest centered heavily. Nor did his
+popularity appear to destroy his poise or make him self-conscious. The
+girl watched closely for signs of that. Had he shown the slightest trace
+of self-worship she would have lost interest in him. He appeared to be a
+trifle embarrassed, and that made him doubly attractive to her. He
+bantered gayly with the men, and several times his replies to some quip
+convulsed the others.
+
+And then while she dreamily watched him, she heard several voices insist
+that he "show Nigger off." He demurred, and when they again insisted, he
+spoke lowly to them, and she felt their concentrated gaze upon her. She
+knew that he had declined to "show Nigger off" because of her presence.
+"Nigger," she guessed, was his horse. She secretly hoped he would overcome
+his prejudice, for she loved the big black, and was certain that any
+performance he participated in would be well worth seeing. So, in order to
+influence the rider she turned her back, pretending not to be interested.
+But when she heard exclamations of satisfaction from the group of men she
+wheeled again, to see that the rider had mounted and was sitting in the
+saddle, grinning at a man who had produced a harmonica and was rubbing it
+on a sleeve of his shirt, preparatory to placing it to his lips.
+
+The rider had gone too far now to back out, and Rosalind watched him in
+frank curiosity. And in the next instant, when the strains of the
+harmonica smote the still morning air, Nigger began to prance.
+
+What followed reminded the girl of a scene in the ring of a circus. The
+horse, proud, dignified, began to pace slowly to the time of the
+accompanying music, executing difficult steps that must have tried the
+patience of both animal and trainer during the teaching period; the rider,
+lithe, alert, proud also, smiling his pleasure.
+
+Rosalind stood there long, watching. It was a clever exhibition, and she
+found herself wondering about the rider. Had he always lived in the West?
+
+The animal performed a dozen feats of the circus arena, and the girl was
+so deeply interested in him that she did not observe Corrigan when he
+emerged from the bank, stepped down into the street and stood watching the
+rider. She noticed him though, when the black, forced to her side of the
+street through the necessity of executing a turn, passed close to the
+easterner. And then, with something of a shock, she saw Corrigan smiling
+derisively. At the sound of applause from the group on the opposite side
+of the street, Corrigan's derision became a sneer. Miss Benham felt
+resentment; a slight color stained her cheeks. For she could not
+understand why Corrigan should show displeasure over this clean and clever
+amusement. She was looking full at Corrigan when he turned and caught her
+gaze. The light in his eyes was positively venomous.
+
+"It is a rather dramatic bid for your interest, isn't it, Miss Benham?" he
+said.
+
+His voice came during a lull that followed the applause. It reached
+Rosalind, full and resonant. It carried to the rider of the black horse,
+and glancing sidelong at him, Rosalind saw his face whiten under the deep
+tan upon it. It carried, too, to the other side of the street, and the
+girl saw faces grow suddenly tense; noted the stiffening of bodies. The
+flat, ominous silence that followed was unreal and oppressive. Out of it
+came the rider's voice as he urged the black to a point within three or
+four paces of Corrigan and sat in the saddle, looking at him. And now for
+the first time Rosalind had a clear, full view of the rider's face and a
+quiver of trepidation ran over her. For the lean jaws were corded, the
+mouth was firm and set--she knew his teeth were clenched; it was the face
+of a man who would not be trifled with. His chin was shoved forward
+slightly; somehow it helped to express the cold humor that shone in his
+narrowed, steady eyes. His voice, when he spoke to Corrigan, had a
+metallic quality that rang ominously in the silence that had continued:
+
+"Back up your play or take it back," he said slowly.
+
+Corrigan had not changed his position. He stared fixedly at the rider; his
+only sign of emotion over the latter's words was a quickening of the eyes.
+He idly tapped with his fingers on the sleeve of his khaki shirt, where
+the arm passed under them to fold over the other. His voice easily matched
+the rider's in its quality of quietness:
+
+"My conversation was private. You are interfering without cause."
+
+Watching the rider, filled with a sudden, breathless premonition of
+impending tragedy, Rosalind saw his eyes glitter with the imminence of
+physical action. Distressed, stirred by an impulse to avert what
+threatened, she took a step forward, speaking rapidly to Corrigan:
+
+"Mr. Corrigan, this is positively silly! You know you were hardly
+discreet!"
+
+Corrigan smiled coldly, and the girl knew that it was not a question of
+right or wrong between the two men, but a conflict of spirit. She did not
+know that hatred had been born here; that instinctively each knew the
+other for a foe, and that this present clash was to be merely one battle
+of the war that would be waged between them if both survived.
+
+Not for an instant did Corrigan's eyes wander from those of the rider. He
+saw from them that he might expect no further words. None came. The
+rider's right hand fell to the butt of the pistol that swung low on his
+right hip. Simultaneously, Corrigan's hand dropped to his hip pocket.
+
+Rosalind saw the black horse lunge forward as though propelled by a sudden
+spring. A dust cloud rose from his hoofs, and Corrigan was lost in it.
+When the dust swirled away, Corrigan was disclosed to the girl's view,
+doubled queerly on the ground, face down. The black horse had struck him
+with its shoulder--he seemed to be badly hurt.
+
+For a moment the girl stood, swaying, looking around appealingly, startled
+wonder, dismay and horror in her eyes. It had happened so quickly that she
+was stunned. She had but one conscious emotion--thankfulness that neither
+man had used his pistol.
+
+No one moved. The girl thought some of them might have come to Corrigan's
+assistance. She did not know that the ethics forbade interference, that a
+fight was between the fighters until one acknowledged defeat.
+
+Corrigan's face was in the dust; he had not moved. The black horse stood,
+quietly now, several feet distant, and presently the rider dismounted,
+walked to Corrigan and turned him over. He worked the fallen man's arms
+and legs, and moved his neck, then knelt and listened at his chest. He got
+up and smiled mirthlessly at the girl.
+
+"He's just knocked out, Miss Benham. It's nothing serious. Nigger--"
+
+"You coward!" she interrupted, her voice thick with passion.
+
+His lips whitened, but he smiled faintly.
+
+"Nigger--" he began again.
+
+"Coward! Coward!" she repeated, standing rigid before him, her hands
+clenched, her lips stiff with scorn.
+
+He smiled resignedly and turned away. She stood watching him, hating him,
+hurling mental anathemas after him, until she saw him pass through the
+doorway of the bank. Then she turned to see Corrigan just getting up.
+
+Not a man in the group across the street had moved. They, too, had watched
+Trevison go into the bank, and now their glances shifted to the girl and
+Corrigan. Their sympathies, she saw plainly, were with Trevison; several
+of them smiled as the easterner got to his feet.
+
+Corrigan was pale and breathless, but he smiled at her and held her off
+when she essayed to help him brush the dust from his clothing. He did that
+himself, and mopped his face with a handkerchief.
+
+"It wasn't fair," whispered the girl, sympathetically. "I almost wish that
+you had killed him!" she added, vindictively.
+
+"My, what a fire-eater!" he said with a broad smile. She thought he looked
+handsomer with the dust upon him, than he had ever seemed when polished
+and immaculate.
+
+"Are you badly hurt?" she asked, with a concern that made him look quickly
+at her.
+
+He laughed and patted her arm lightly. "Not a bit hurt," he said. "Come,
+those men are staring."
+
+He escorted her to the step of the private car, and lingered a moment
+there to make his apology for his part in the trouble. He told her
+frankly, that he was to blame, knowing that Trevison's action in riding
+him down would more than outweigh any resentment she might feel over his
+mistake in bringing about the clash in her presence.
+
+She graciously forgave him, and a little later she entered the car alone;
+he telling her that he would be in presently, after he returned from the
+station where he intended to send a telegram. She gave him a smile,
+standing on the platform of the car, dazzling, eloquent with promise. It
+made his heart leap with exultation, and as he went his way toward the
+station he voiced a sentiment:
+
+"Entirely worth being ridden down for."
+
+But his jaws set savagely as he approached the station. He did not go into
+the station, but around the outside wall of it, passing between it and
+another building and coming at last to the front of the bank building. He
+had noted that the black horse was still standing in front of the bank
+building, and that the group of men had dispersed. The street was
+deserted.
+
+Corrigan's movements became quick and sinister. He drew a heavy revolver
+out of a hip pocket, shoved its butt partly up his sleeve and concealed
+the cylinder and barrel in the palm of his hand. Then he stepped into the
+door of the bank. He saw Trevison standing at one of the grated windows of
+the wire netting, talking with Braman. Corrigan had taken several steps
+into the room before Trevison heard him, and then Trevison turned, to find
+himself looking into the gaping muzzle of Corrigan's pistol.
+
+"You didn't run," said the latter. "Thought it was all over, I suppose.
+Well, it isn't." He was grinning coldly, and was now deliberate and
+unexcited, though two crimson spots glowed in his cheeks, betraying the
+presence of passion.
+
+"Don't reach for that gun!" he warned Trevison. "I'll blow a hole through
+you if you wriggle a finger!" Watching Trevison, he spoke to Braman: "You
+got a back room here?"
+
+The banker stepped around the end of the counter and opened a door behind
+the wire netting. "Right here," he directed.
+
+Corrigan indicated the door with a jerking movement of the head. "Move!"
+he said shortly, to Trevison. The latter's lips parted in a cold, amused
+grin, and he hesitated slightly, yielding presently.
+
+An instant later the three were standing in the middle of a large room,
+empty except for a cot upon which Braman slept, some clothing hanging on
+the walls, a bench and a chair. Corrigan ordered the banker to clear the
+room. When that had been done, Corrigan spoke again to the banker:
+
+"Get his gun."
+
+A snapping alertness of the eyes indicated that Trevison knew what was
+coming. That was the reason he had been so quiescent this far; it was why
+he made no objection when Braman passed his hands over his clothing in
+search of other weapons, after his pistol had been lifted from its holster
+by the banker.
+
+"Now get out of here and lock the doors!" ordered Corrigan. "And let
+nobody come in!"
+
+Braman retired, grinning expectantly.
+
+Then Corrigan backed away until he came to the wall. Reaching far up, he
+hung his revolver on a nail.
+
+"Now," he said to Trevison, his voice throaty from passion; "take off your
+damned foolish trappings. I'm going to knock hell out of you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BEATING A GOOD MAN
+
+
+Trevison had not moved. He had watched the movements of the other closely,
+noting his huge bulk, his lithe motions, the play of his muscles as he
+backed across the room to dispose of the pistol. At Corrigan's words
+though, Trevison's eyes glowed with a sudden fire, his teeth gleamed, his
+straight lips parting in a derisive smile. The other's manner toward him
+had twanged the chord of animosity that had been between them since the
+first exchange of glances, and he was as eager as Corrigan for the clash
+that must now come. He had known that the first conflict had been an
+unfinished thing. He laughed in sheer delight, though that delight was
+tempered with savage determination.
+
+"Save your boasts," he taunted.
+
+Corrigan sneered. "You won't look so damned attractive when you leave this
+room." He took off his hat and tossed it into a corner, then turned to
+Trevison with an ugly grin.
+
+"Ready?" he said.
+
+"Quite." Trevison had not accepted Corrigan's suggestion about taking off
+his "damned foolish trappings," and he still wore them--cartridge belt,
+leather chaps, spurs. But now he followed Corrigan's lead and threw his
+hat from him. Then he crouched and faced Corrigan.
+
+They circled cautiously, Trevison's spurs jingling musically. Then
+Trevison went in swiftly, jabbing with his left, throwing off Corrigan's
+vicious counter with the elbow, and ripping his right upward. The fist met
+Corrigan's arm as the latter blocked, and the shock forced both men back a
+step. Corrigan grinned with malicious interest and crowded forward.
+
+"That's good," he said; "you're not a novice. I hope you're not a quitter.
+I've quite a bit to hand you for riding me down."
+
+Trevison grinned derisively, but made no answer. He knew he must save his
+wind for this man. Corrigan was strong, clever; his forearm, which had
+blocked Trevison's uppercut, had seemed like a bar of steel.
+
+Trevison went in again with the grim purpose of discovering just how
+strong his antagonist was. Corrigan evaded a stiff left jab intended for
+his chin, and his own right cross missed as Trevison ducked into a clinch.
+With arms locked they strained, legs braced, their lungs heaving as they
+wrestled, doggedly.
+
+Corrigan stood like a post, not giving an inch. Vainly Trevison writhed,
+seeking a position which would betray a weakened muscle, but though he
+exerted every ounce of his own mighty strength Corrigan held him even.
+They broke at last, mutually, and Corrigan must have felt the leathery
+quality of Trevison's muscles, for his face was set in serious lines. His
+eyes glittered malignantly as he caught a confident smile on Trevison's
+lips, and he bored in silently, swinging both hands.
+
+Trevison had been the cool boxer, carefully trying out his opponent. He
+had felt little emotion save that of self-protection. At the beginning of
+the fight he would have apologized to Corrigan--with reservations. Now he
+was stirred with the lust of battle. Corrigan's malignance had struck a
+responsive passion in him, and the sodden impact of fist on flesh, the
+matching of strength against strength, the strain of iron muscles, the
+contact of their bodies, the sting and burn of blows, had aroused the
+latent savage in him. He was still cool, however, but it was the crafty
+coolness of the trained fighter, and as Corrigan crowded him he whipped in
+ripping blows that sent the big man's head back. Corrigan paid little heed
+to the blows; he shook them off, grunting. Blood was trickling thinly from
+his lips; he spat bestially over Trevison's shoulder in a clinch, and
+tried to sweep the latter from his feet.
+
+The agility of the cow-puncher saved him, and he went dancing out of
+harm's way, his spurs jingling. Corrigan was after him with a rush. A
+heavy blow caught Trevison on the right side of the neck just below the
+ear and sent him, tottering, against the wall of the building, from which
+he rebounded like a rubber ball, smothering Corrigan with an avalanche of
+deadening straight-arm punches that brought a glassy stare into Corrigan's
+eyes. The big man's head wabbled, and Trevison crowded in, intent on
+ending the fight quickly, but Corrigan covered instinctively, and when
+Trevison in his eagerness missed a blow, the big man clinched with him and
+hung on doggedly until his befoggled brain could clear. For a few minutes
+they rocked around the room, their heels thudding on the bare boards of
+the floor, creating sounds that filtered through the enclosing walls and
+smote the silence of the outside world with resonant rumblings.
+Mercilessly, Trevison hammered at the heavy head that sought a haven on
+his shoulder. Corrigan had been stunned and wanted no more long range
+work. He tried to lock his big arms around the other's waist in an attempt
+to wrestle, realizing that in that sort of a contest lay his only hope of
+victory, but Trevison, agile, alert to his danger, slipped elusively from
+the grasping hands and thudded uppercuts to the other's mouth and jaws
+that landed with sickening force. But none of the blows landed on a vital
+spot, and Corrigan hung grimly on.
+
+At last, lashing viciously, wriggling, squirming, swinging around in a
+wide circle to get out of Corrigan's clutches, Trevison broke the clinch
+and stood off, breathing heavily, summoning his reserve strength for a
+finishing blow. Corrigan had been fearfully punished during the last few
+minutes, but he was gradually recovering from his dizziness, and he
+grinned hideously at Trevison through his smashed lips. He surged forward,
+reminding Trevison of a wounded bear, but Trevison retreated warily as he
+measured the distance from which he would drive the blow that would end
+it
+
+He was still retreating, describing a wide circle. He swung around toward
+the door through which Braman had gone--his back was toward it. He did not
+see the door open slightly as he passed; he had not seen Braman's face in
+the slight crevice that had been between door and jamb all along. Nor did
+he see the banker jab at his legs with the handle of a broom. But he felt
+the handle hit his legs. It tripped him, forcing him to lose his balance.
+As he fell he saw Corrigan's eyes brighten, and he twisted sideways to
+escape a heavy blow that Corrigan aimed at him. He only partially evaded
+it--it struck him glancingly, a little to the left of the chin, stunning
+him, and he fell awkwardly, his left arm doubling under him. The agonizing
+pain that shot through the arm as he crumpled to the floor told him that
+it had been broken at the wrist. A queer stupor came upon him, during
+which he neither felt nor saw. Dimly, he sensed that Corrigan was striking
+at him; with a sort of vague half-consciousness he felt that the blows
+were landing. But they did not hurt, and he laughed at Corrigan's futile
+efforts. The only feeling he had was a blind rage against Braman, for he
+was certain that it had been the banker who had tripped him. Then he saw
+the broom on the floor and the crevice in the doorway. He got to his feet
+some way, Corrigan hanging to him, raining blows upon him, and he laughed
+aloud as, his vision clearing a little, he saw Corrigan's mouth, weak,
+open, drooling blood, and remembered that when Braman had tripped him
+Corrigan had hardly been in shape to do much effective hitting. He
+tottered away from Corrigan, taunting him, though afterwards he could not
+remember what his words were. Also, he heard Corrigan cursing him, though
+he could never remember _his_ words, either. He tried to swing his left
+arm as Corrigan came within range of it, but found he could not lift it,
+and so ducked the savage blow that Corrigan aimed at him and slipped
+sideways, bringing his right into play. Several times as they circled he
+uppercut Corrigan with the right, he retreating, side-stepping; Corrigan
+following him doggedly, slashing venomously at him, hitting him
+occasionally. Corrigan could not hurt him, and he could not resist
+laughing at Corrigan's face--it was so hideously repulsive.
+
+A man came out of the front door of Hanrahan's saloon across the street
+from the bank building, and stood in the street for a moment, looking
+about him. Had Miss Benham seen the man she would have recognized him as
+the one who had previously come out of the saloon to greet the rider with:
+"Well, if it ain't ol' 'Brand'!" He saw the black horse standing in front
+of the bank building, but Trevison was nowhere in sight. The man mumbled:
+"I don't want him to git away without me seein' him," and crossed the
+street to the bank window and peered inside. He saw Braman peering through
+a half-open door at the rear of the banking room, and he heard
+sounds--queer, jarring sounds that made the glass window in front of him
+rattle and quiver.
+
+He dove around to the side of the building and looked in a window. He
+stood for a moment, watching with bulging eyes, half drew a pistol,
+thought better of the notion and replaced it, and then darted back to the
+saloon from which he had emerged, croaking hoarsely: "Fight! fight!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had not had the agility to evade one of Corrigan's heavy blows.
+It had caught him as he had tried to duck, striking fairly on the point of
+the jaw, and he was badly dazed. But he still grinned mockingly at his
+enemy as the latter followed him, tensed, eager, snarling. He evaded other
+blows that would have finished him--through instinct, it seemed to
+Corrigan; and though there was little strength left in him he kept working
+his right fist through Corrigan's guard and into his face, pecking away at
+it until it seemed to be cut to ribbons.
+
+Voices came from somewhere in the banking room, voices raised in
+altercation. Neither of the two men, raging around the rear room, heard
+them--they had become insensate savages oblivious of their surroundings,
+drunken with passion, with the blood-mania gripping their brains.
+
+Trevison had brought the last ounce of his remaining strength into play
+and had landed a crushing blow on Corrigan's chin. The big man was
+wabbling crazily about in the general direction of Trevison, swinging
+his arms wildly, Trevison evading him, snapping home blows that landed
+smackingly without doing much damage. They served merely to keep
+Corrigan in the semi-comatose state in which Trevison's last hard blow
+had left him. And that last blow had sapped Trevison's strength; his
+spirit alone had survived the drunken orgy of rage and hatred. As the
+tumult around him increased--the tramp of many feet, scuffling; harsh,
+discordant voices, curses, yells of protest, threats--not a sound of which
+he heard, so intent was he with his work of battering his adversary, he
+ceased to retreat from Corrigan, and as the latter shuffled toward him
+he stiffened and drove his right fist into the big man's face. Corrigan
+cursed and grunted, but lunged forward again. They swung at the same
+instant--Trevison's right just grazing Corrigan's jaw; Corrigan's blow,
+full and sweeping, thudding against Trevison's left ear. Trevison's
+head rolled, his chin sagged to his chest, and his knees doubled like
+hinges. Corrigan smirked malevolently and drove forward again. But he
+was too eager, and his blows missed the reeling target that, with arms
+hanging wearily at his sides, still instinctively kept to his feet,
+the taunting smile, now becoming bitterly contemptuous, still on his
+face. It meant that though exhausted, his arm broken, he felt only
+scorn for Corrigan's prowess as a fighter.
+
+Fighting off the weariness he lunged forward again, swinging the now
+deadened right arm at the blur Corrigan made in front of him. Something
+collided with him--a human form--and thinking it was Corrigan, clinching
+with him, he grasped it. The momentum of the object, and his own weakness,
+carried him back and down, and with the object in his grasp he fell,
+underneath, to the floor. He saw a face close to his--Braman's--and
+remembering that the banker had tripped him, he began to work his right
+fist into the other's face.
+
+He would have finished Braman. He did not know that the man who had
+greeted him as "ol' 'Brand'" had smashed the banker in the forehead with
+the butt of a pistol when the banker had tried to bar his progress at the
+doorway; he was not aware that the force of the blow had hurled Braman
+against him, and that the latter, half unconscious, was not defending
+himself. He would not have cared had he known these things, for he was
+fighting blindly, doggedly, recklessly--fighting two men, he thought. And
+though he sensed that there could be but one end to such a struggle, he
+hammered away with ferocious malignance, and in the abandon of his passion
+in this extremity he was recklessly swinging his broken left arm, driving
+it at Braman, groaning each time the fist landed.
+
+He felt hands grasping him, and he fought them off, smashing weakly at
+faces that appeared around him as he was dragged to his feet. He heard a
+voice say: "His arm's bruk," and the voice seemed to clear the atmosphere.
+He paused, holding back a blow, and the dancing blur of faces assumed a
+proper aspect and he saw the man who had hit the banker.
+
+"Hello Mullarky!" he grinned, reeling drunkenly in the arms of his
+friends. "Come to see the picnic? Where's my--"
+
+He saw Corrigan leaning against a wall of the room and lurched toward him.
+A dozen hands held him back--the room was full of men; and as his brain
+cleared he recognized some of them. He heard threats, mutterings, against
+Corrigan, and he laughed, bidding the men to hold their peace, that it was
+a "fair fight." Corrigan was unmoved by the threats--as he was unmoved by
+Trevison's words. He leaned against the wall, weak, his arms hanging at
+his sides, his face macerated, grinning contemptuously. And then, despite
+his objections, Trevison was dragged away by Mullarky and the others,
+leaving Braman stretched out on the floor, and Corrigan, his knees
+sagging, his chin almost on his chest, standing near the wall. Trevison
+turned as he was forced out of the door, and grinned tauntingly at his
+tired enemy. Corrigan spat at him.
+
+Half an hour later, his damaged arm bandaged, and some marks of the battle
+removed, Trevison was in the banking room. He had forbidden any of his
+friends to accompany him, but Mullarky and several others stood outside
+the door and watched him.
+
+A bandage around his head, Braman leaned on the counter behind the wire
+netting, pale, shaking. In a chair at the desk sat Corrigan, glowering at
+Trevison. The big man's face had been attended to, but it was swollen
+frightfully, and his smashed lips were in a horrible pout. Trevison
+grinned at him, but it was to the banker that he spoke.
+
+"I want my gun, Braman," he said, shortly.
+
+The banker took it out of a drawer and silently shoved it across the
+counter and through a little opening in the wire netting. The banker
+watched, fearingly, as Trevison shoved the weapon into its holster.
+Corrigan stolidly followed his movements.
+
+The gun in its holster, Trevison leaned toward the banker.
+
+"I always knew you weren't straight, Braman. But we won't quarrel about
+that now. I just want you to know that when this arm of mine is right
+again, we'll try to square things between us. Broom handles will be barred
+that day."
+
+Braman was silent and uneasy as he watched Trevison reach into a pocket
+and withdraw a leather bill-book. From this he took a paper and tossed it
+in through the opening of the wire netting.
+
+"Cash it," he directed. "It's about the matter we were discussing when we
+were interrupted by our bloodthirsty friend, there."
+
+He looked at Corrigan while Braman examined the paper, his eyes alight
+with the mocking, unfearing gleam that had been in them during the fight.
+Corrigan scowled and Trevison grinned at him--the indomitable, mirthless
+grin of the reckless fighting man; and Corrigan filled his lungs slowly,
+watching him with half-closed eyes. It was as though both knew that a
+distant day would bring another clash between them.
+
+Braman fingered the paper uncertainly, and looked at Corrigan.
+
+"I suppose this is all regular?" he said. "You ought to know something
+about it--it's a check from the railroad company for the right-of-way
+through Mr. Trevison's land."
+
+Corrigan's eyes brightened as he examined the check. They filled with a
+hard, sinister light.
+
+"No," he said; "it isn't regular." He took the check from Braman and
+deliberately tore it into small pieces, scattering them on the floor at
+his feet. He smiled vindictively, settling back into his chair. "'Brand'
+Trevison, eh?" he said. "Well, Mr. Trevison, the railroad company isn't
+ready to close with you."
+
+Trevison had watched the destruction of the check without the quiver of an
+eyelash. A faint, ironic smile curved the corners of his mouth as Corrigan
+concluded.
+
+"I see," he said quietly. "You were not man enough to beat me a little
+while ago--even with the help of Braman's broom. You're going to take it
+out on me through the railroad; you're going to sneak and scheme. Well,
+you're in good company--anything that you don't know about skinning people
+Braman will tell you. But I'm letting you know this: The railroad
+company's option on my land expired last night, and it won't be renewed.
+If it's fight you're looking for, I'll do my best to accommodate you."
+
+Corrigan grunted, and idly drummed with the fingers of one hand on the top
+of the desk, watching Trevison steadily. The latter opened his lips to
+speak, changed his mind, grinned and went out. Corrigan and Braman watched
+him as he stopped for a moment outside to talk with his friends, and their
+gaze followed him until he mounted Nigger and rode out of town. Then the
+banker looked at Corrigan, his brows wrinkling.
+
+"You know your business, Jeff," he said; "but you've picked a tough man in
+Trevison."
+
+Corrigan did not answer. He was glowering at the pieces of the check that
+lay on the floor at his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE LONG ARM OF POWER
+
+
+Presently Corrigan lit a cigar, biting the end off carefully, to keep it
+from coming in contact with his bruised lips. When the cigar was going
+well, he looked at Braman.
+
+"What is Trevison?"
+
+Pale, still dizzy from the effects of the blow on the head, Braman, who
+was leaning heavily on the counter, smiled wryly:
+
+"He's a holy terror--you ought to know that. He's a reckless,
+don't-give-a-damn fool who has forgotten there's such a thing as
+consequences. 'Firebrand' Trevison, they call him. And he lives up to what
+that means. The folks in this section of the country swear by him."
+
+Corrigan made a gesture of impatience. "I mean--what does he do? Of course
+I know he owns some land here. But how much land does he own?"
+
+"You saw the figure on the check, didn't you? He owns five thousand
+acres."
+
+"How long has he been here?"
+
+"You've got me. More than ten years, I guess, from what I can gather."
+
+"What was he before he came here?"
+
+"I couldn't even surmise that--he don't talk about his past. From the way
+he waded into you, I should judge he was a prize fighter before becoming a
+cow-puncher."
+
+Corrigan glared at the banker. "Yes; it's damned funny," he said. "How did
+he get his land?"
+
+"Proved on a quarter-section. Bought the rest of it--and bought it mighty
+cheap." Braman's eyes brightened. "Figure on attacking _his_ title?"
+
+Corrigan grunted. "I notice he asked you for cash. You're not his banker,
+evidently."
+
+"He banks in Las Vegas, I guess."
+
+"What about his cattle?"
+
+"He shipped three thousand head last season."
+
+"How big is his outfit?"
+
+"He's got about twenty men. They're all hard cases--like him, and they'd
+shoot themselves for him."
+
+Corrigan got up and walked to the window, from where he looked out at
+Manti. The town looked like an army camp. Lumber, merchandise, supplies of
+every description, littered the street in mounds and scattered heaps,
+awaiting the erection of tent-house and building. But there was none of
+that activity that might have been expected from the quantity of material
+on hand; it seemed that the owners were waiting, delaying in anticipation
+of some force that would give them encouragement. They were reluctant to
+risk their money in erecting buildings on the strength of mere rumor. But
+they had come, hoping.
+
+Corrigan grinned at Braman. "They're afraid to take a chance," he said,
+meaning Manti's citizens.
+
+"Don't blame them. I've spread the stuff around--as you told me. That's
+all they've heard. They're here on a forlorn hope. The boom they are
+looking for, seems, from present conditions, to be lurking somewhere in
+the future, shadowed by an indefiniteness that to them is vaguely
+connected with somebody's promise of a dam, agricultural activity to
+follow, and factories. They haven't been able to trace the rumors, but
+they're here, and they'll make things hum if they get a chance."
+
+"Sure," grinned Corrigan. "A boom town is always a graft for first
+arrivals. That is, boom towns _have_ been. But Manti--" He paused.
+
+"Yes, different," chuckled the banker. "It must have cost a wad to shove
+that water grant through."
+
+"Benham kicked on the price--it was enough."
+
+"That maximum rate clause is a pippin. You can soak them the limit right
+from the jump."
+
+"And scare them out," scoffed Corrigan. "That isn't the game. Get them
+here, first. Then--"
+
+The banker licked his lips. "How does old Benham take it?"
+
+"Mr. Benham is enthusiastic because everything will be done in a perfectly
+legitimate way--he thinks."
+
+"And the courts?"
+
+"Judge Lindman, of the District Court now in Dry Bottom, is going to
+establish himself here. Benham pulled that string."
+
+"Good!" said Braman. "When is Lindman coming?"
+
+Corrigan's smile was crooked; it told eloquently of conscious power over
+the man he had named.
+
+"He'll come whenever I give the word. Benham's got something on him."
+
+"You always were a clever son-of-a-gun!" laughed the banker, admiringly.
+
+Ignoring the compliment, Corrigan walked into the rear room, where he
+gazed frowningly at his reflection in a small glass affixed to the wall.
+Re-entering the banking room he said:
+
+"I'm in no condition to face Miss Benham. Go down to the car and tell her
+that I shall be very busy here all day, and that I won't be able to see
+her until late tonight."
+
+Miss Benham's name was on the tip of the banker's tongue, but, glancing at
+Corrigan's face, he decided that it was no time for that particular brand
+of levity. He grabbed his hat and stepped out of the front door.
+
+Left alone, Corrigan paced slowly back and forth in the room, his brows
+furrowed thoughtfully. Trevison had become an important figure in his
+mind. Corrigan had not hinted to Braman, to Trevison, or to Miss Benham,
+of the actual situation--nor would he. But during his first visit to town
+that morning he had stood in one of the front windows of a saloon across
+the street. He had not been getting acquainted, as he had told Miss
+Benham, for the saloon had been the first place that he had entered, and
+after getting a drink at the bar he had sauntered to the window. From
+there he had seen "Brand" Trevison ride into town, and because Trevison
+made an impressive figure he had watched him, instinctively aware that in
+the rider of the black horse was a quality of manhood that one meets
+rarely. Trevison's appearance had caused him a throb of disquieting envy.
+
+He had noticed Trevison's start upon getting his first glimpse of the
+private car on the siding. He had followed Trevison's movements carefully,
+and with increased disquiet. For, instead of dismounting and going into a
+saloon or a store, Trevison had urged the black on, past the private car,
+which he had examined leisurely and intently. The clear morning air made
+objects at a distance very distinct, and as Trevison had ridden past the
+car, Corrigan had seen a flutter at one of the windows; had caught a
+fleeting glimpse of Rosalind Benham's face. He had seen Trevison ride
+away, to return for a second view of the car a few minutes later. At
+breakfast, Corrigan had not failed to note Miss Benham's lingering glances
+at the black horse, and again, in the bank, with her standing at the door,
+he had noticed her interest in the black horse and its rider. His
+quickly-aroused jealousy and hatred had driven him to the folly of
+impulsive action, a method which, until now, he had carefully evaded. Yes,
+he had found "Brand" Trevison a worthy antagonist--Braman had him
+appraised correctly.
+
+Corrigan's smile was bitter as he again walked into the rear room and
+surveyed his reflection in the glass. Disgusted, he turned to one of the
+windows and looked out. From where he stood he could see straight down the
+railroad tracks to the cut, down the wall of which, some hours before,
+Trevison had ridden the black horse. The dinky engine, with its train of
+flat-cars, was steaming toward him. As he watched, engine and cars struck
+the switch and ran onto the siding, where they came to a stop. Corrigan
+frowned and looked at his watch. It lacked fully three hours to quitting
+time, and the cars were empty, save for the laborers draped on them, their
+tools piled in heaps. While Corrigan watched, the laborers descended from
+the cars and swarmed toward their quarters--a row of tent-houses near the
+siding. A big man--Corrigan knew him later as Patrick Carson--swung down
+from the engine-cab and lumbered toward the little frame station house, in
+a window of which the telegrapher could be seen, idly scanning a week-old
+newspaper. Carson spoke shortly to the telegrapher, at which the latter
+motioned toward the bank building and the private car. Then Carson came
+toward the bank building. An instant later, Carson came in the front door
+and met Corrigan at the wire netting.
+
+"Hullo," said the Irishman, without preliminaries; "the agent was tellin'
+me I'd find a mon named Corrigan here. You're in charge, eh?" he added at
+Corrigan's affirmative. "Well, bedad, somebody's got to be in charge from
+now on. The Willie-boy engineer from who I've been takin' me orders has
+sneaked away to Dry Bottom for a couple av days, shovin' the
+raysponsibility on me--an' I ain't feelin' up to it. I'm a daisy
+construction boss, if I do say it meself, but I ain't enough of a fightin'
+mon to buck the business end av a six-shooter."
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Mebbe you'd know--he said you'd be sure to. I've been parleyin' wid a
+fello' named 'Firebrand' Trevison, an' I'm that soaked wid perspiration
+that me boots is full av it, after me thryin' to urge him to be dacently
+careful wid his gun!"
+
+"What happened?" asked Corrigan, darkly.
+
+"This mon Trevison came down through the cut this mornin', goin' to town.
+He was pleasant as a mon who's had a raise in wages, an' he was joshin'
+wid us. A while ago he comes back from town, an' he's that cold an' polite
+that he'd freeze ye while he's takin' his hat off to ye. One av his arms
+is busted, an' he's got a welt or two on his face. But outside av that
+he's all right. He rides down into the cut where we're all workin' fit to
+kill ourselves. He halts his big black horse about forty or fifty feet
+away from the ol' rattle-box that runs the steam shovel, an' he grins like
+a tiger at me an' says:
+
+"'Carson, I'm wantin' you to pull your min off. I can't permit anny
+railroad min on the Diamond K property. You're a friend av mine, an' all
+that, but you'll have to pull your freight. You've got tin minutes.'
+
+"'I've got me orders to do this work,' I says--begging his pardon.
+
+"'Here's your orders to stop doin' it!' he comes back. An' I was
+inspectin' the muzzle av his six-shooter.
+
+"'Ye wudn't shoot a mon for doin' his duthy?' I says.
+
+"'Thry me,' he says. 'You're trespassers. The railroad company didn't come
+through wid the coin for the right-of-way. Your mon, Corrigan, has got an
+idee that he's goin' to bluff me. I'm callin' his bluff. You've got tin
+minutes to get out av here. At the end av that time I begin to shoot. I've
+got six cattridges in the gun, an' fifty more in the belt around me
+middle. An' I seldom miss whin I shoot. It's up to you whether I start a
+cemetery here or not,' he says, cold an' ca'mlike.
+
+"The ginneys knowed somethin' was up, an' they crowded around. I thought
+Trevison was thryin' to run a bluff on _me_, an' I give orders for the
+ginneys to go back to their work.
+
+"Trevison didn't say another word, but at the end av the tin minutes he
+grins that tiger grin av his an' busts the safety valve on the rattle-box
+wid a shot from his pistol. He smashes the water-gauge wid another, an'
+jammed one shot in the ol' rattle-box's entrails, an' she starts to blow
+off steam----shriekin' like a soul in hell. The ginneys throwed down their
+tools an' started to climb up the walls of the cut like a gang av monkeys,
+Trevison watchin' thim with a grin as cold as a barrow ful ov icicles.
+Murph', the engineer av the dinky, an' his fireman, ducks for the
+engine-cab, l'avin' me standin' there to face the music. Trevison yells at
+the engineer av the rattle-box, an' he disappears like a rat into a hole.
+Thin Trevison swings his gun on me, an' I c'u'd feel me knees knockin'
+together. 'Carson,' he says, 'I hate like blazes to do it, but you're the
+boss here, an' these min will do what you tell thim to do. Tell thim to
+get to hell out of here an' not come back, or I'll down you, sure as me
+name's Trevison!'
+
+"I'm old enough to know from lookin' at a mon whether he manes business or
+not, an' Trevison wasn't foolin'. So I got the bhoys away, an' here we
+are. If you're in charge, it's up to you to smooth things out. Though from
+the looks av your mug 'Firebrand's' been maulin' you some, too!"
+
+Corrigan's answer was a cold glare. "You quit without a fight, eh?" he
+taunted; "you let one man bluff half a hundred of you!"
+
+Carson's eyes brightened. "My recollection is that 'Firebrand' is still
+holdin' the forrt. Whin I got me last look at him he was sittin' on the
+top av the cut, like he was intendin' to stay there indefinite. If ye
+think he's bluffin', mebbe it'd be quite an idee for you to go out there
+yourself, an' call it. I'd be willin' to give ye me moral support."
+
+"I'll call him when I get ready." Corrigan went to the desk and sat in the
+chair, ignoring Carson, who watched him narrowly. Presently he turned and
+spoke to the man:
+
+"Put your men at work trueing up the roadbed on the next section back,
+until further orders."
+
+"An' let 'Firebrand' hold the forrt?"
+
+"Do as you're told!"
+
+Carson went out to his men. Near the station platform he turned and looked
+back at the bank building, grinning. "There's two bulldogs comin' to grips
+in this deal or I'm a domn poor prophet!" he said.
+
+When Braman returned from his errand he found Corrigan staring out of the
+window. The banker announced that Miss Benham had received Corrigan's
+message with considerable equanimity, and was rewarded for his levity with
+a frown.
+
+"What's Carson and his gang doing in town?" he queried.
+
+Corrigan told him, briefly. The banker whistled in astonishment, and his
+face grew long. "I told you he is a tough one!" he reminded.
+
+Corrigan got to his feet. "Yes--he's a tough one," he admitted. "I'm
+forced to alter my plans a little--that's all. But I'll get him. Hunt up
+something to eat," he directed; "I'm hungry. I'm going to the station for
+a few minutes."
+
+He went out, and the banker watched him until he vanished around the
+corner of a building. Then Braman shook his head. "Jeff's resourceful," he
+said. "But Trevison--" His face grew solemn. "What a damned fool I was to
+trip him with that broom!" He drew a pistol from a pocket and examined it
+intently, then returned it to the pocket and sat, staring with unseeing
+eyes beyond the station at the two lines of steel that ran out upon the
+plains and stopped in the deep cut on the crest of which he could see a
+man on a black horse.
+
+Down at the station Corrigan was leaning on a rough wooden counter,
+writing on a yellow paper pad. When he had finished he shoved the paper
+over to the telegrapher, who had been waiting:
+
+  J. Chalfant Benham, B-- Building, New York.
+
+  Unexpected opposition developed. Trevison. Give Lindman removal order
+  immediately. Communicate with me at Dry Bottom tomorrow morning.
+  Corrigan.
+
+Corrigan watched the operator send the message and then he returned to the
+bank building, where he found Braman setting out a meager lunch in the
+rear room. The two men talked as they ate, mostly about Trevison, and the
+banker's face did not lose its worried expression. Later they smoked and
+talked and watched while the afternoon sun grew mellow; while the somber
+twilight descended over the world and darkness came and obliterated the
+hill on which sat the rider of the black horse.
+
+Shortly after dark Corrigan sent the banker on another errand, this time
+to a boarding-house at the edge of town. Braman returned shortly,
+announcing: "He'll be ready." Then, just before midnight Corrigan climbed
+into the cab of the engine which had brought the private car, and which
+was waiting, steam up, several hundred feet down the track from the car.
+
+"All right!" said Corrigan briskly, to the engineer, as he climbed in and
+a flare from the fire-box suffused his face; "pull out. But don't make any
+fuss about it--I don't want those people in the car to know." And shortly
+afterwards the locomotive glided silently away into the darkness toward
+that town in which a judge of the United States Court had, a few hours
+before, received orders which had caused him to remark, bitterly: "So does
+the past shape the future."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+A TELEGRAM AND A GIRL
+
+
+Banker Braman went to bed on the cot in the back room shortly after
+Corrigan departed from Manti. He stretched himself out with a sigh,
+oppressed with the conviction that he had done a bad day's work in
+antagonizing Trevison. The Diamond K owner would repay him, he knew. But
+he knew, too, that he need have no fear that Trevison would sneak about
+it. Therefore he did not expect to feel Trevison at his throat during the
+night. That was some satisfaction.
+
+He dropped to sleep, thinking of Trevison. He awoke about dawn to a loud
+hammering on the rear door, and he scrambled out of bed and opened the
+door upon the telegraph agent. That gentleman gazed at him with grim
+reproof.
+
+"Holy Moses!" he said; "you're a hell of a tight sleeper! I've been
+pounding on this door for an age!" He shoved a sheet of paper under
+Braman's nose. "Here's a telegram for you."
+
+Braman took the telegram, scanning it, while the agent talked on,
+ramblingly. A sickly smile came over Braman's face when he finished
+reading, and then he listened to the agent:
+
+"I got a wire a little after midnight, asking me if that man, Corrigan,
+was still in Manti. The engineer told me he was taking Corrigan back to
+Dry Bottom at midnight, and so I knew he wasn't here, and I clicked back
+'No.' It was from J. C. He must have connected with Corrigan at Dry
+Bottom. That guy Trevison must have old Benham's goat, eh?"
+
+Braman re-read the telegram; it was directed to him:
+
+  Send my daughter to Trevison with cash in amount of check destroyed
+  by Corrigan yesterday. Instruct her to say mistake made. No offense
+  intended. Hustle. J. C. BENHAM.
+
+Braman slipped his clothes on and ran down the track to the private car.
+He had known J. C. Benham several years and was aware that when he issued
+an order he wanted it obeyed, literally. The negro autocrat of the private
+car met him at the platform and grinned amply at the banker's request.
+
+"Miss Benham done tol' me she am not to be disturbed till eight o'clock,"
+he objected. But the telegram in Braman's hands had instant effect upon
+the black custodian of the car, and shortly afterward Miss Benham was
+looking at the banker and his telegram in sleepy-eyed astonishment, the
+door of her compartment open only far enough to permit her to stick her
+head out.
+
+Braman was forced to do much explaining, and concluded by reading the
+telegram to her. She drew everything out of him except the story of the
+fight.
+
+"Well," she said in the end, "I suppose I shall have to go. So his name is
+'Brand' Trevison. And he won't permit the men to work. Why did Mr.
+Corrigan destroy the check?"
+
+Braman evaded, but the girl thought she knew. Corrigan had yielded to an
+impulse of obstinacy provoked by Trevison's assault on him. It was not
+good business--it was almost childish; but it was human to feel that way.
+She felt a slight disappointment in Corrigan, though; the action did not
+quite accord with her previous estimate of him. She did not know what to
+think of Trevison. But of course any man who would deliberately and
+brutally ride another man down, would naturally not hesitate to adopt
+other lawless means of defending himself.
+
+She told Braman to have the money ready for her in an hour, and at the end
+of that time with her morocco handbag bulging, she emerged from the front
+door of the bank and climbed the steps of the private car, which had been
+pulled down to a point in front of the station by the dinky engine, with
+Murphy presiding at the throttle.
+
+Carson was standing on the platform when Miss Benham climbed to it, and he
+grinned and greeted her with:
+
+"If ye have no objections, ma'am, I'll be ridin' down to the cut with ye.
+Me name's Patrick Carson, ma'am."
+
+"I have no objection whatever," said the lady, graciously. "I presume you
+are connected with the railroad?"
+
+"An' wid the ginneys that's buildin' it, ma'am," he supplemented. "I'm the
+construction boss av this section, an' I'm the mon that had the unhappy
+experience av lookin' into the business end av 'Firebrand's' six-shooter
+yisterday."
+
+"'Firebrand's'?" she said, with a puzzled look at him.
+
+"Thot mon, Trevison, ma'am; that's what they call him. An' he fits it
+bedad--beggin' your pardon."
+
+"Oh," she said; "then you know him." And she felt a sudden interest in
+Carson.
+
+"Enough to be certain he ain't to be monkeyed with, ma'am."
+
+She seemed to ignore this. "Please tell the engineer to go ahead," she
+told him. "And then come into the car--I want to talk with you."
+
+A little later, with the car clicking slowly over the rail-joints toward
+the cut, Carson diffidently followed the negro attendant into a luxurious
+compartment, in which, seated in a big leather-covered chair, was Miss
+Benham. She motioned Carson to another chair, and in the conversation that
+followed Miss Benham received a comprehensive estimate of Trevison from
+Carson's viewpoint. It seemed unsatisfying to her--Carson's commendation
+did not appear to coincide with Trevison's performances.
+
+"Have you heard what happened in Manti yesterday?" she questioned. "This
+man, Trevison, jumped his horse against Mr. Corrigan and knocked him
+down."
+
+"I heard av it," grinned Carson. "But I didn't see it. Nor did I see the
+daisy scrap that tuk place right after."
+
+"Fight?" she exclaimed.
+
+Carson reddened. "Sure, ye haven't heard av it, an' I'm blabbin' like a
+kid."
+
+"Tell me about it." Her eyes were aglow with interest.
+
+"There's devilish little to tell--beggin' your pardon, ma'am. But thim
+that was in at the finish is waggin' their tongues about it bein' a dandy
+shindy. Judgin' from the talk, nobuddy got licked--it was a fair dhraw.
+But I sh'ud judge, lookin' at Corrigan's face, that it was a darlin' av a
+scrap."
+
+She was silent, gazing contemplatively out of the car window. Corrigan had
+returned, after escorting her to the car, to engage in a fight with
+Trevison. That was what had occupied him; that was why he had gone away
+without seeing her. Well, Trevison had given him plenty of provocation.
+
+"Trevison's horse knockin' Corrigan down was what started it, they've been
+tellin' me," said Carson. "But thim that know Trevison's black knows that
+Trevison wasn't to blame."
+
+"Not to blame?" she asked; "why not?"
+
+"For the simple rayson thot in a case like thot the mon has no control
+over the baste, ma'am. 'Firebrand' told me only yisterday mornin' thot
+there was no holdin' the black whin somebuddy tried to shoot wid him on
+his back."
+
+The girl remembered how Trevison had tried to speak to her immediately
+after the upsetting of Corrigan, and she knew now, that he had wanted to
+explain his action. Reviewing the incident in the light of Carson's
+explanation, she felt that Corrigan was quite as much at fault as
+Trevison. Somehow, that knowledge was vaguely satisfying.
+
+She did not succeed in questioning Carson further about Trevison, though
+there were many points over which she felt a disturbing curiosity, for
+Agatha came in presently, and after nodding stiffly to Carson, seated
+herself and gazed aloofly out of a window.
+
+Carson, ill at ease in Agatha's presence, soon invented an excuse to go
+out upon the platform, leaving Rosalind to explain his presence in the
+car.
+
+"What on earth could you have to say to a section boss--or he to you?"
+demanded Agatha. "You are becoming very--er--indiscreet, Rosalind."
+
+The girl smiled. It was a smile that would have betrayed the girl had
+Agatha possessed the physiognomist's faculty of analyzation, for in it was
+much relief and renewed faith. For the rider of the black horse was not
+the brutal creature she had thought him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the private car came to a stop, Rosalind looked out of the window to
+see the steep wall of the cut towering above her. Aunt Agatha still sat
+near, and when Rosalind got up Agatha rose also, registering an
+objection:
+
+"I think your father might have arranged to have some _man_ meet this
+outlaw. It is not, in my opinion, a proper errand for a girl. But if you
+are determined to go, I presume I shall have to follow."
+
+"It won't be necessary," said Rosalind. But Agatha set her lips tightly.
+And when the girl reached the platform Agatha was close behind her.
+
+But both halted on the platform as they were about to descend the steps.
+They heard Carson's voice, loud and argumentative:
+
+"There's a lady aboored, I tell ye! If ye shoot, you're a lot of damned
+rapscallions, an' I'll come up there an' bate the head off ye!"
+
+"Stow your gab an' produce the lady!" answered a voice. It came from
+above, and Rosalind stepped down to the floor of the cut and looked
+upward. On the crest of the southern wall were a dozen men--cowboys--armed
+with rifles, peering down at the car. They shifted their gaze to her when
+she stepped into view, and one of them laughed.
+
+"Correct, boys," he said; "it's a lady." There was a short silence;
+Rosalind saw the men gather close--they were talking, but she could not
+hear their voices. Then the man who had spoken first stepped to the edge
+of the cut and called: "What do you want?"
+
+The girl answered: "I want to speak with Mr. Trevison."
+
+"Sorry, ma'am," came back the voice; "but Trevison ain't here--he's at the
+Diamond K."
+
+Rosalind reached a decision quickly. "Aunty," she said; "I am going to the
+Diamond K."
+
+"I forbid you!" said Agatha sternly. "I would not trust you an instant
+with those outlaws!"
+
+"Nonsense," smiled Rosalind. "I am coming up," she called to the man on
+the crest; "do you mind?"
+
+The man laughed. "I reckon not, ma'am."
+
+Rosalind smiled at Carson, who was watching her admiringly, and to the
+smile he answered, pointing eastward to where the slope of the hill melted
+into the plains: "You'll have to go thot way, ma'am." He laughed. "You're
+perfectly safe wid thim min, ma'am--they're Trevison's--an' Trevison wud
+shoot the last mon av thim if they'd harm a hair av your pretty head. Go
+along, ma'am, an' God bless ye! Ye'll be savin' a heap av throuble for me
+an' me ginneys, an' the railroad company." He looked with bland derision
+at Agatha who gave him a glance of scornful reproof as she followed after
+her charge.
+
+The girl was panting when she reached the crest of the cut. Agatha was a
+little white, possibly more from apprehension than from indignation,
+though that emotion had its influence; but their reception could not have
+been more formal had it taken place in an eastern drawing-room. For every
+hat was off, and each man was trying his best to conceal his interest. And
+when men have not seen a woman for a long time, the appearance of a pretty
+one makes it rather hard to maintain polite poise. But they succeeded,
+which spoke well for their manliness. If they exchanged surreptitious
+winks over the appearance of Agatha, they are to be excused, for that
+lady's demeanor was one of frigid haughtiness, which is never quite
+impressive to those who live close to nature.
+
+In an exchange of words, brief and pointed, Rosalind learned that it was
+three miles to the Diamond K ranchhouse, and that Trevison had given
+orders not to be disturbed unless the railroad company attempted to
+continue work at the cut. Could she borrow one of their horses, and a
+guide?
+
+"You bet!" emphatically returned the spokesman who, she learned later, was
+Trevison's foreman. She should have the gentlest "cayuse" in the "bunch,"
+and the foreman would do the guiding, himself. At which word Agatha,
+noting the foreman's enthusiasm, glared coldly at him.
+
+But here Agatha was balked by the insurmountable wall of convention. She
+had ridden horses, to be sure, in her younger days; but when the foreman,
+at Rosalind's request, offered her a pony, she sniffed scornfully and
+marched down the slope toward the private car, saying that if Rosalind was
+_determined_ to persist she might persist without _her_ assistance. For
+there was no side-saddle in the riding equipment of the outfit. And
+Rosalind, quite aware of the prudishness exhibited by her chaperon, and
+not unmindful of the mirth that the men were trying their best to keep
+concealed, rode on with the foreman, with something resembling
+thankfulness for the temporary freedom tugging at her heart.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had camped all night on the crest of the cut. It was only at dawn
+that Barkwell, the foreman who had escorted Rosalind, had appeared at the
+cut on his way to town, and discovered him, and then the foreman's plans
+were changed and he was dispatched to the Diamond K for reinforcements.
+Trevison had ridden back to the Diamond K to care for his arm, which had
+pained him frightfully during the night, and at ten o'clock in the morning
+he was stretched out, fully dressed and wide awake on the bed in his room
+in the ranchhouse, frowningly reviewing the events of the day before.
+
+He was in no good humor, and when he heard Barkwell hallooing from the
+yard near the house, he got up and looked out of a window, a scowl on his
+face.
+
+Rosalind was not in the best of spirits, herself, for during the ride to
+the ranchhouse she had been sending subtly-questioning shafts at the
+foreman--questions that mostly concerned Trevison--and they had all fell,
+blunted and impotent, from the armor of Barkwell's reticence. But a glance
+at Trevison's face, ludicrous in its expression of stunned amazement,
+brought a broad smile to her own. She saw his lips form her name, and then
+she waited demurely until she saw him coming out of the ranchhouse door
+toward her.
+
+He had quite recovered from his surprise, she noted; his manner was that
+of the day before, when she had seen him riding the black horse. When she
+saw him coming lightly toward her, she at first had eyes for nothing but
+his perfect figure, feeling the strength that his close-fitting clothing
+revealed so unmistakably, and an unaccountable blush glowed in her cheeks.
+And then she observed that his left arm was in a sling, and a flash of
+wondering concern swept over her--also unaccountable. And then he was at
+her stirrup, smiling up at her broadly and cordially.
+
+"Welcome to the Diamond K, Miss Benham," he said. "Won't you get off your
+horse?"
+
+"Thank you; I came on business and must return immediately. There has been
+a misunderstanding, my father says. He wired me, directing me to
+apologize, for him, for Mr. Corrigan's actions of yesterday. Perhaps Mr.
+Corrigan over-stepped his authority--I have no means of knowing." She
+passed the morocco bag over to him, and he took it, looking at it in some
+perplexity. "You will find cash in there to the amount named by the check
+that Mr. Corrigan destroyed. I hope," she added, smiling at him, "that
+there will be no more trouble."
+
+"The payment of this money for the right-of-way removes the provocation
+for trouble," he laughed. "Barkwell," he directed, turning to the foreman;
+"you may go back to the outfit." He looked after the foreman as the latter
+rode away, turning presently to Rosalind. "If you will wait a few minutes,
+until I stow this money in a safe place, I'll ride back to the cut with
+you and pull the boys off."
+
+She had wondered much over the rifles in the hands of his men at the cut.
+"Would your men have used their guns?" she asked.
+
+He had turned to go to the house, and he wheeled quickly, astonished.
+"Certainly!" he said; "why not?"
+
+"That would be lawlessness, would it not?" It made her shiver slightly to
+hear him so frankly confess to murderous designs.
+
+"It was not my quarrel," he said, looking at her narrowly, his brows
+contracted. "Law is all right where everybody accepts it as a governor to
+their actions. I accept it when it deals fairly with me--when it's just.
+Certain rights are mine, and I'll fight for them. This situation was
+brought on by Corrigan's obstinacy. We had a fight, and it peeved him
+because I wouldn't permit him to hammer my head off. He destroyed the
+check, and as the company's option expired yesterday it was unlawful for
+the company to trespass on my land."
+
+"Well," she smiled, affected by his vehemence; "we shall have peace now,
+presumably. And--" she reddened again "--I want to ask your pardon on my
+own account, for speaking to you as I did yesterday. I thought you
+brutal--the way you rode your horse over Mr. Corrigan. Mr. Carson assured
+me that the horse was to blame."
+
+"I am indebted to Carson," he laughed, bowing. Rosalind watched him go
+into the house, and then turned and inspected her surroundings. The house
+was big, roomy, with a massive hip roof. A paved gallery stretched the
+entire length of the front--she would have liked to rest for a few minutes
+in the heavy rocker that stood in its cool shadows. No woman lived here,
+she was certain, because there was a lack of evidence of woman's
+handiwork--no filmy curtains at the windows--merely shades; no cushion was
+on the chair--which, by the way, looked lonesome--but perhaps that was
+merely her imagination. Much dust had gathered on the gallery floor and on
+the sash of the windows--a woman would have had things looking
+differently. And so she divined that Trevison was not married. It
+surprised her to discover that that thought had been in her mind, and she
+turned to continue her inspection, filled with wonder that it had been
+there.
+
+She got an impression of breadth and spaciousness out of her survey of the
+buildings and the surrounding country. The buildings were in good
+condition; everything looked substantial and homelike and her
+contemplation of it aroused in her a yearning for a house and land in this
+section of the country, it was so peaceful and dignified in comparison
+with the life she knew.
+
+She watched Trevison when he emerged from the house, and smiled when he
+returned the empty handbag. He went to a small building near a fenced
+enclosure--the corral, she learned afterward--and came out carrying a
+saddle, which he hung on the fence while he captured the black horse,
+which she had already observed. The animal evaded capture, playfully, but
+in the end it trotted mincingly to Trevison and permitted him to throw the
+bridle on. Then, shortly afterward he mounted the black and together they
+rode back toward the cut.
+
+As they rode the girl's curiosity for the man who rode beside her grew
+acute. She was aware--she had been aware all along--that he was far
+different from the other men of Manti--there was about him an atmosphere
+of refinement and quiet confidence that mingled admirably with his
+magnificent physical force, tempering it, suggesting reserve power,
+hinting of excellent mental capacity. She determined to know something
+about him. And so she began subtly:
+
+"In a section of country so large as this it seems that our American
+measure of length--a mile--should be stretched to something that would
+more adequately express size. Don't you think so?"
+
+He looked quickly at her. "That is an odd thought," he laughed, "but it
+inevitably attacks the person who views the yawning distances here for the
+first time. Why not use the English mile if the American doesn't
+satisfy?"
+
+"There is a measure that exceeds that, isn't there? Wasn't there a Persian
+measure somewhat longer, fathered by Herodotus or another of the ancients?
+I am sure there was--or is--but I have forgotten?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "--a parasang." He looked narrowly at her and saw her eyes
+brighten.
+
+She had made progress; she felt much satisfaction.
+
+"You are not a native," she said.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Cowboys do not commonly measure their distances with parasangs," she
+laughed.
+
+"Nor do ordinary women try to shake off ennui by coming West in private
+cars," he drawled.
+
+She started and looking quickly at him. "How did you know that was what
+happened to me?" she demanded.
+
+"Because you're too spirited and vigorous to spend your life dawdling in
+society. You yearn for action, for the broad, free life of the open.
+You're in love with this country right now."
+
+"Yes, yes," she said, astonished; "but how do you know?"
+
+"You might have sent a man here in your place--Braman, for instance; he
+could be trusted. You came yourself, eager for adventure--you came on a
+borrowed horse. When you were looking at the country from the horse in
+front of my house, I saw you sigh."
+
+"Well," she said, with flushed face and glowing eyes; "I _have_ decided to
+live out here--for a time, at least. So you were watching me?"
+
+"Just a glance," he defended, grinning; "I couldn't help it. Please
+forgive me."
+
+"I suppose I'll have to," she laughed, delighted, reveling in this freedom
+of speech, in his directness. His manner touched a spark somewhere in her,
+she felt strangely elated, exhilarated. When she reflected that this was
+only their second meeting and that she had not been conventionally
+introduced to him, she was amazed. Had a stranger of her set talked to her
+so familiarly she would have resented it. Out here it seemed to be
+perfectly natural.
+
+"How do you know I borrowed a horse to come here?" she asked.
+
+"That's easy," he grinned; "there's the Diamond K brand on his hip."
+
+"Oh."
+
+They rode on a little distance in silence, and then she remembered that
+she was still curious about him. His frankness had affected her; she did
+not think it impertinent to betray curiosity.
+
+"How long have you lived out here?" she asked.
+
+"About ten years."
+
+"You weren't born here, of course--you have admitted that. Then where did
+you come from?"
+
+"This is a large country," he returned, unsmilingly.
+
+It was a reproof, certainly--Rosalind could go no farther in that
+direction. But her words had brought a mystery into existence, thus
+sharpening her interest in him. She was conscious, though, of a slight
+pique--what possible reason could he have for evasion? He had not the
+appearance of a fugitive from justice.
+
+"So you're going to live out here?" he said, after an interval. "Where?"
+
+"I heard father speak of buying Blakeley's place. Do you know where it
+is?"
+
+"It adjoins mine." There was a leaping note in his voice, which she did
+not fail to catch. "Do you see that dark line over there?" He pointed
+eastward--a mile perhaps. "That's a gully; it divides my land from
+Blakeley's. Blakeley told me a month ago that he was dickering with an
+eastern man. If you are thinking of looking the place over, and want a
+trustworthy escort I should be pleased to recommend--myself." And he
+grinned widely at her.
+
+"I shall consider your offer--and I thank you for it," she returned. "I
+feel positive that father will buy a ranch here, for he has much faith in
+the future of Manti--he is obsessed with it."
+
+He looked sharply at her. "Then your father is going to have a hand in the
+development of Manti? I heard a rumor to the effect that some eastern
+company was interested, had, in fact, secured the water rights for an
+enormous section."
+
+She remembered what Corrigan had told her, and blushingly dissembled:
+
+"I put no faith in rumor--do you? Mr. Corrigan is the head of the company
+which is to develop Manti. But of course _that_ is an eastern company,
+isn't it?"
+
+He nodded, and she smiled at a thought that came to her. "How far is it to
+Blakeley's ranchhouse?" she asked.
+
+"About two parasangs," he answered gravely.
+
+"Well," she said, mimicking him; "I could _never_ walk there, could I? If
+I go, I shall have to borrow a horse--or buy one. Could you recommend a
+horse that would be as trustworthy as the escort you have promised me?"
+
+"We shall go to Blakeley's tomorrow," he told her. "I shall bring you a
+trustworthy horse at ten o'clock in the morning."
+
+They were approaching the cut, and she nodded an acceptance. An instant
+later he was talking to his men, and she sat near him, watching them as
+they raced over the plains toward the Diamond K ranchhouse. One man
+remained; he was without a mount, and he grinned with embarrassment when
+Rosalind's gaze rested on him.
+
+"Oh," she said; "you are waiting for your horse! How stupid of me!" She
+dismounted and turned the animal over to him. When she looked around,
+Trevison had also dismounted and was coming toward her, leading the black,
+the reins looped through his arm. Rosalind flushed, and thought of Agatha,
+but offered no objection.
+
+It was a long walk down the slope of the hill and around its base to the
+private car, but they made it still longer by walking slowly and taking
+the most roundabout way. Three persons saw them coming--Agatha, standing
+rigid on the platform; the negro attendant, standing behind Agatha in the
+doorway, his eyes wide with interest; and Carson, seated on a boulder a
+little distance down the cut, grinning broadly.
+
+"Bedad," he rumbled; "the bhoy's made a hit wid her, or I'm a sinner! But
+didn't I know he wud? The two bulldogs is goin' to have it now, sure as
+I'm a foot high!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A JUDICIAL PUPPET
+
+
+Bowling along over the new tracks toward Manti in a special car secured at
+Dry Bottom by Corrigan, one compartment of which was packed closely with
+books, papers, ledger records, legal documents, blanks, and even office
+furniture, Judge Lindman watched the landscape unfold with mingled
+feelings of trepidation, reluctance, and impotent regret. The Judge's face
+was not a strong one--had it been he would not have been seated in the
+special car, talking with Corrigan. He was just under sixty-five years,
+and their weight seemed to rest heavily upon him. His eyes were slightly
+bleary, and had a look of weariness, as though he had endured much and was
+utterly tired. His mouth was flaccid, the lips pouting when he compressed
+his jaws, giving his face the sullen, indecisive look of the brooder
+lacking the mental and physical courage of independent action and
+initiative. The Judge could be led; Corrigan was leading him now, and the
+Judge was reluctant, but his courage had oozed, back in Dry Bottom, when
+Corrigan had mentioned a culpable action which the Judge had regretted
+many times.
+
+Some legal records of the county were on the table between the two men.
+The Judge had objected when Corrigan had secured them from the compartment
+where the others were piled.
+
+"It isn't regular, Mr. Corrigan," he had said; "no one except a legally
+authorized person has the right to look over those books."
+
+"We'll say that I am legally authorized, then," grinned Corrigan. The look
+in his eyes was one of amused contempt. "It isn't the only irregular thing
+you have done, Lindman."
+
+The Judge subsided, but back in his eyes was a slumbering hatred for this
+man, who was forcing him to complicity in another crime. He regretted that
+other crime; why should this man deliberately remind him of it?
+
+After looking over the records, Corrigan outlined a scheme of action that
+made the Judge's face blanch.
+
+"I won't be a party to any such scurrilous undertaking!" he declared when,
+he could trust his voice; "I--I won't permit it!"
+
+Corrigan stretched his legs out under the table, shoved his hands into his
+trousers' pockets and laughed.
+
+"Why the high moral attitude, Judge? It doesn't become you. Refuse if you
+like. When we get to Manti I shall wire Benham. It's likely he'll feel
+pretty sore. He's got his heart set on this. And I have no doubt that
+after he gets my wire he'll jump the next train for Washington, and--"
+
+The Judge exclaimed with weak incoherence, and a few minutes later he was
+bending over the records with Corrigan--the latter making sundry copies on
+a pad of paper, which he placed in a pocket when the work was completed.
+
+At noon the special car was in Manti. Corrigan, the Judge, and Braman,
+carried the Judge's effects and stored them in the rear room of the bank
+building. "I'll build you a courthouse, tomorrow," he promised the Judge;
+"big enough for you and a number of deputies. You'll need deputies, you
+know." He grinned as the Judge shrank. Then, leaving the Judge in the room
+with his books and papers, Corrigan drew Braman outside.
+
+"I got hell from Benham for destroying Trevison's check--he wired me to
+attend to my other deals and let him run the railroad--the damned old
+fool! You must have taken the cash to Trevison--I see the gang's working
+again."
+
+"The cash went," said the banker, watching Corrigan covertly, "but I
+didn't take it. J. C. wired explicit orders for his daughter to act."
+
+Corrigan cursed viciously, his face dark with wrath as he turned to look
+at the private car, on the switch. The banker watched him with secret,
+vindictive enjoyment. Miss Benham had judged Braman correctly--he was
+cold, crafty, selfish, and wholly devoid of sympathy. He was for Braman,
+first and last--and in the interim.
+
+"Miss Benham went to the cut--so I hear," he went on, smoothly. "Trevison
+wasn't there. Miss Benham went to the Diamond K." His eyes gleamed as
+Corrigan's hands clenched. "Trevison rode back to the car with her--which
+she had ordered taken to the cut," went on the banker. "And this morning
+about ten o'clock Trevison came here with a led horse. He and Miss Benham
+rode away together. I heard her tell her aunt they were going to
+Blakeley's ranch--it's about eight miles from here."
+
+Corrigan's face went white. "I'll kill him for that!" he said.
+
+"Jealous, eh?" laughed the banker. "So, that's the reason--"
+
+Corrigan turned and struck bitterly. The banker's jaws clacked
+sharply--otherwise he fell silently, striking his head against the edge of
+the step and rolling, face down, into the dust.
+
+When he recovered and sat up, Corrigan had gone. The banker gazed
+foolishly around at a world that was still reeling--felt his jaw
+carefully, wonder and astonishment in his eyes.
+
+"What do you know about that?" he asked of the surrounding silence. "I've
+kidded him about women before, and he never got sore. He must be in
+love!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Riding through a saccaton basin, the green-brown tips so high that they
+caught at their stirrups as they rode slowly along; a white, smiling sky
+above them and Blakeley's still three miles away, Miss Benham and Trevison
+were chatting gayly at the instant the banker had received Corrigan's
+blow.
+
+Miss Benham had spent the night thinking of Trevison, and she had spent
+much of her time during the present ride stealing glances at him. She had
+discovered something about him that had eluded her the day before--an
+impulsive boyishness. It was hidden behind the manhood of him, so that the
+casual observer would not be likely to see it; men would have failed to
+see it, because she was certain that with men he would not let it be seen.
+But she knew the recklessness that shone in his eyes, the energy that
+slumbered in them ready to be applied any moment in response to any whim
+that might seize him, were traits that had not yet yielded to the stern
+governors of manhood--nor would they yield in many years to come--they
+were the fountains of virility that would keep him young. She felt the
+irresistible appeal of him, responsive to the youth that flourished in her
+own heart--and Corrigan, older, more ponderous, less addicted to impulse,
+grew distant in her thoughts and vision. The day before yesterday her
+sympathies had been with Corrigan--she had thought. But as she rode she
+knew that they were threatening to desert him. For this man of heroic mold
+who rode beside her was disquietingly captivating in the bold recklessness
+of his youth.
+
+They climbed the far slope of the basin and halted their horses on the
+crest. Before them stretched a plain so big and vast and inviting that it
+made the girl gasp with delight.
+
+"Oh," she said, awed; "isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"I knew you'd like it."
+
+"The East has nothing like this," she said, with a broad sweep of the
+hand.
+
+"No," he said.
+
+She turned on him triumphantly. "There!" she declared; "you have committed
+yourself. You are from the East!"
+
+"Well," he said; "I've never denied it."
+
+Something vague and subtle had drawn them together during the ride,
+bridging the hiatus of strangeness, making them feel that they had been
+acquainted long. It did not seem impertinent to her that she should ask
+the question that she now put to him--she felt that her interest in him
+permitted it:
+
+"You are an easterner, and yet you have been out here for about ten years.
+Your house is big and substantial, but I should judge that it has no
+comforts, no conveniences. You live there alone, except for some men, and
+you have male servants--if you have any. Why should you bury yourself
+here? You are educated, you are young. There are great opportunities for
+you in the East!"
+
+She paused, for she saw a cynical expression in his eyes.
+
+"Well?" she said, impatiently, for she had been very much in earnest.
+
+"I suppose I've got to tell you," he said, soberly. "I don't know what has
+come over me--you seem to have me under a spell. I've never spoken about
+it before. I don't know why I should now. But you've got to know, I
+presume."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"On your head rest the blame," he said, his grin still cynical; "and upon
+mine the consequences. It isn't a pretty story to tell; it's only virtue
+is its brevity. I was fired out of college for fighting. The fellows I
+licked deserved what they got--and I deserved what I got for breaking
+rules. I've always broken rules. I may have broken laws--most of us have.
+My father is wealthy. The last time I saw him he said I was incorrigible
+and a dunce. I admit the former, but I'm going to make him take the other
+back. I told him so. He replied that he was from Missouri. He gave me an
+opportunity to make good by cutting off my allowance. There was a girl.
+When my allowance was cut off she made me feel cold as an Eskimo. Told me
+straight that she had never liked me in the way she'd led me to believe
+she did, and that she was engaged to a _real_ man. She made the mistake of
+telling me his name, and it happened to be one of the fellows I'd had
+trouble with at college. The girl lost her temper and told me things he'd
+said about me. I left New York that night, but before I hopped on the
+train I stopped in to see my rival and gave him the bulliest trimming that
+I had ever given anybody. I came out here and took up a quarter-section of
+land. I bought more--after a while. I own five thousand acres, and about a
+thousand acres of it is the best coal land in the United States. I
+wouldn't sell it for love or money, for when your father gets his railroad
+running, I'm going to cash in on ten of the leanest and hardest and
+lonesomest years that any man ever put in. I'm going back some day. But I
+won't stay. I've lived in this country so long that it's got into my heart
+and soul. It's a golden paradise."
+
+She did not share his enthusiasm--her thoughts were selfishly personal,
+though they included him.
+
+"And the girl!" she said. "When you go back, would you--"
+
+"Never!" he scoffed, vehemently. "That would convince me that I am the
+dunce my father said I was!"
+
+The girl turned her head and smiled. And a little later, when they were
+riding on again, she murmured softly:
+
+"Ten years of lonesomeness and bitterness to save his pride! I wonder if
+Hester Keyes knows what she has missed?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+TWO LETTERS GO EAST
+
+
+After Agatha retired that night Rosalind sat for a long time writing at a
+little desk in the private car. She was tingling with excitement over a
+discovery she had made, and was yearning for a confidante. Since it had
+not been her habit to confide in Agatha, she did the next best thing,
+which was to indite a letter to her chum, Ruth Gresham. In one place she
+wrote:
+
+"Do you remember Hester Keyes' love affair of ten years ago? You certainly
+must remember it! If you cannot, permit me to brush the dust of
+forgetfulness away. You cannot forget the night you met William Kinkaid?
+Of course you cannot forget that, for when you are Mrs. Kinkaid--But
+there! I won't poke fun at you. But I think every married person needs to
+treasure every shred of romance against inevitable hum-drum days. Isn't
+that a sad sentiment? But I want to get ahead with my reminder."
+
+There followed much detail, having to do with Hester Keyes' party, to
+which neither Rosalind nor Ruth Gresham had been invited, for reasons
+which Rosalind presently made obvious. She continued:
+
+"Of course, custom does not permit girls of fourteen to figure prominently
+at 'coming-out' parties, but after one is there and is relegated to a
+stair-landing, one may use one's eyes without restriction. Do you remember
+my pointing out Hester Keyes' 'fellow'? But of course you didn't pay much
+attention to him after Billy Kinkaid sailed into your vision! But I envied
+Hester Keyes her eighteen years--and Trevison Brandon! He had the blackest
+eyes and hair! And he simply adored Hester! It made me feel positively
+savage when I heard shortly afterward that she had thrown him over--after
+his father cut him off--to take up with that fellow Harvey--I never could
+remember his first name. And she married Harvey--and regretted it, until
+Harvey died.
+
+"Ruth, Trevison Brandon is out here. He calls himself 'Brand' Trevison. I
+met him two days ago, and I did not recognize him, he has changed so much.
+He puzzled me quite a little; but not even when I heard his name did I
+connect him with the man I had seen at Hester's party. Ten years is _such_
+a long time, isn't it? And I never did have much of a memory for names.
+But today he went with me to a certain ranch--Blakeley's--which, by the
+way, _father is going to buy_--and on the way we became very much
+acquainted, and he told me about his love affair. I placed him instantly,
+then, and why I didn't keel over was, I suppose, because of the curious
+big saddles they have out here, with enormous wooden _stirrups_ on them. I
+can hear you exclaim over that plural, but there are no side-saddles. That
+is how it came that I was unchaperoned--Agatha won't take liberties with
+them, the saddles. Thank Heaven!"
+
+There followed much more, with only one further reference to Trevison:
+
+"He must be nearly thirty now, but he doesn't look it, he's so boyish. I
+gather, though, that he is regarded as a _man_ out here, where, I
+understand, manhood is measured by something besides mere appearances. He
+owns acres and acres of land--some of it has coal on it; and he is sure to
+be enormously wealthy, some day. But I am twenty-four, myself."
+
+The startling irrelevance of this sentence at first surprised Ruth
+Gresham, and then caused her eyes to brighten understandingly, as she read
+the letter a few days later. She remarked, musingly:
+
+"The inevitable hum-drum days, eh? And yet most people long for them."
+
+Another letter was written when the one to Ruth was completed. It was to
+J. Chalfant Benham.
+
+  "DEAR DADDY:
+
+  "The West is a golden paradise. I could live here many, many years. I
+  visited Mr. Blakeley today. He calls his ranch the Bar B. We wouldn't
+  have to change the brand, would we? Trevison says the ranch is worth
+  all Blakeley asks for it. Mr. Blakeley says we can take possession
+  immediately, so I have decided to stay here. Mrs. Blakeley has
+  invited me, and I am going to have my things taken over tomorrow.
+  Since the Blakeley's are anxious to sell out and return South, don't
+  you think you had better conclude the deal at once?
+
+                                                      "Lovingly,
+                                                         "ROSALIND."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE CHAOS OF CREATION
+
+
+The West saw many "boom" towns. They followed in the wake of "gold
+strikes;" they grew, mushroom-like, overnight--garish husks of squalor,
+palpitating, hardy, a-tingle with extravagant hopes. A few, it is true,
+lived to become substantial cities buzzing with the American spirit,
+panting, fighting for progress with an energy that shamed the Old World,
+lethargic in its smug and self-sufficient superiority. But many towns died
+in their gangling youth, tragic monuments to hopes; but monuments also to
+effort, and to the pioneer courage and the dreams of an empire-building
+people.
+
+Manti was destined to live. It was a boom town with material reasons for
+substantial growth. Behind it were the resources of a railroad company
+which would anticipate the development of a section of country bigger than
+a dozen Old-world states, and men with brains keen enough to realize the
+commercial possibilities it held. It had Corrigan for an advance
+agent--big, confident, magnetic, energetic, suave, smooth.
+
+Manti had awaited his coming; he was the magic force, the fulfillment of
+the rumored promise. He had stayed away for three weeks, following his
+departure on the special car after bringing Judge Lindman, and when he
+stepped off the car again at the end of that time Manti was "humming," as
+he had predicted. During the three weeks of his absence, the switch at
+Manti had never been unoccupied. Trains had been coming in regularly
+bearing merchandise, men, tools, machines, supplies. Engineers had
+arrived; the basin near Manti, choked by a narrow gorge at its westerly
+end (where the dam was to be built) was dotted with tents, wagons, digging
+implements, a miscellany of material whose hauling had worn a rutted trail
+over the plains and on the slope of the basin, continually active with
+wagon-train and pack horse, and articulate with sweating, cursing
+drivers.
+
+"She's a pippin!" gleefully confided a sleek-looking individual who might
+have been mistaken for a western "parson" had it not been for a certain
+sophisticated cynicism that was prominent about him, and which imparted a
+distasteful taint of his profession. "Give me a year of this and I'll open
+a joint in Frisco! I cleaned out a brace of bull-whackers in the _Plaza_
+last night--their first pay. Afterward I stung a couple of cattlemen for a
+hundred each. Look at her hum!"
+
+Notwithstanding that it was midday, Manti was teeming with life and
+action. Since the day that Miss Benham had viewed the town from the window
+of the private car, Manti had added more than a hundred buildings to its
+total. They were not attractive; they were ludicrous in their pitiful
+masquerade of substantial types. Here and there a three-story structure
+reared aloft, sheathed with galvanized iron, a garish aristocrat seemingly
+conscious of its superiority, brazen, in its bid for attention; more
+modest buildings seemed dwarfed, humiliated, squatting sullenly and
+enviously. There were hotels, rooming-houses, boarding-houses, stores,
+dwellings, saloons--and others which for many reasons need not be
+mentioned. But they were pulsating with life, electric, eager, expectant.
+Taking advantage of the scarcity of buildings, an enterprising citizen had
+erected tents in rows on the street line, for whose shelter he charged
+enormously--and did a capacity business.
+
+"A hundred came in on the last train," complained the over-worked station
+agent. "God knows what they all expect to do here!"
+
+Corrigan had kept his promise to build Judge Lindman a courthouse. It was
+a flat-roofed structure, one story high, wedged between a saloon and
+Braman's bank building. A sign in the front window of Braman's bank
+announced that Jefferson Corrigan, agent of the Land & Improvement
+Company, of New York, had office space within, but on the morning of the
+day following his return to Manti, Corrigan was seated at one side of a
+flat-top desk in the courthouse, talking with Judge Lindman, who sat at
+the other side.
+
+"Got them all transcribed?" asked Corrigan.
+
+The Judge drew a thin ledger from his desk and passed it over to Corrigan.
+As Corrigan turned the pages and his face lighted, the Judge's grew
+correspondingly troubled.
+
+"All right," exulted Corrigan. "This purports to be an accurate and true
+record of all the land transactions in this section from the special grant
+to the Midland Company, down to date. It shows no intermediate owners from
+the Midland Company to the present claimants. As a document arraigning
+carelessness on the part of land buyers it cannot be excelled. There isn't
+a present owner that has a legal leg to stand on!"
+
+"There is only one weak point in your case," said the Judge, and his eyes
+gleamed with satisfaction, which he concealed by bowing his head. "It is
+that since these records show no sale of its property by the Midland
+Company, the Midland Company can come forward and re-establish its
+title."
+
+Corrigan laughed and flipped a legal-looking paper in front of the Judge.
+The latter opened it and read, showing eagerness. He laid it down after
+reading, his hands trembling.
+
+"It shows that the Midland Company--James Marchmont,
+president--transferred to Jefferson Corrigan, on a date prior to these
+other transactions, one-hundred thousand acres of land here--the Midland
+Company's entire holdings. Why, man, it is forgery!"
+
+"No," said Corrigan quietly. "James Marchmont is alive. He signed his name
+right where it is. He'll confirm it, too, for he happens to be in
+something of the fix that you are in. Therefore, there being no records of
+any sales on your books--as revised, of course--" he laughed; "Jeff
+Corrigan is the legal possessor of one-hundred thousand acres of land
+right in the heart of what is going to be the boom section of the West!"
+He chuckled, lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair and looked at the
+Judge. "All you have to do now is to enter that transaction on your
+records."
+
+"You don't expect the present owners to yield their titles without a
+fight, do you?" asked the Judge. He spoke breathlessly.
+
+Corrigan grunted. "Sure; they'll fight. But they'll lose. I've got them.
+I've got the power--the courts--the law, behind me. I've got them, and
+I'll squeeze them. It means a mint of money, man. It will make you. It's
+the biggest thing that any man ever attempted to pull off in this
+country!"
+
+"Yes, it's big," groaned the Judge; "it's stupendous! It's frightful! Why,
+man, if anything goes wrong, it would mean--" He paused and shivered.
+
+Corrigan smiled contemptuously. "Where's the original record?" he asked.
+
+"I destroyed it," said the Judge. He did not look at Corrigan. "How?"
+demanded the latter.
+
+"Burned it."
+
+"Good." Corrigan rubbed his palms together. "It's too soon to start
+anything. Things are booming, and some of these owners will be trying to
+sell. Hold them off--don't record anything. Give them any excuse that
+comes to your mind. Have you heard from Washington?"
+
+"The establishment of the court here has been confirmed."
+
+"Quick work," laughed Corrigan. He got up, murmuring something about
+having to take care of some leases. When he turned, it was to start and
+stand rigid, his jaws set, his face pale. A man stood in the open
+doorway--a man of about fifty apparently, furtive-eyed, slightly shabby,
+though with an atmosphere about him that hinted of past dignity of
+carriage.
+
+"Jim Marchmont!" said Corrigan. He stepped forward, threateningly, his
+face dark with wrath. Without speaking another word he seized the newcomer
+by the coat collar, snapping his head back savagely, and dragged him back
+of a wooden partition. Concealed there from any of the curious in the
+street, he jammed Marchmont against the wall of the building, held him
+there with one hand and stuck a huge fist into his face.
+
+"What in hell are you doing here?" he demanded. "Come clean, or I'll tear
+you apart!"
+
+The other laughed, but there was no mirth in it, and his thin lips were
+curved queerly, and were stiff and white. "Don't get excited, Jeff," he
+said; "it won't be healthy." And Corrigan felt something hard and cold
+against his shirt front. He knew it was a pistol and he released his hold
+and stepped back.
+
+"Speaking of coming clean," said Marchmont. "You crossed me. You told me
+you were going to sell the Midland land to two big ranch-owners. I find
+that you're going to cut it up into lots and make big money--loads of it.
+You handed me a measly thousand. You stand to make millions. I want my
+divvy."
+
+"You've got your nerve," scoffed Corrigan. "You got your bit when you sold
+the Midland before. You're a self-convicted crook, and if you make a peep
+out here I'll send you over the road for a thousand years!"
+
+"Another thousand now," said Marchmont: "and ten more when you commence to
+cash in. Otherwise, a thousand years or not, I'll start yapping here and
+queer your game."
+
+Corrigan's lips were in an ugly pout. For an instant it seemed he was
+going to defy his visitor. Then without a word to him he stepped around
+the partition, walked out the door and entered the bank. A few minutes
+later he passed a bundle of greenbacks to Marchmont and escorted him to
+the front door, where he stood, watching, his face unpleasant, until
+Marchmont vanished into one of the saloons.
+
+"That settles _you_, you damned fool!" he said.
+
+He stepped down into the street and went into the bank. Braman fawned on
+him, smirking insincerely. Corrigan had not apologized for striking the
+blow, had never mentioned it, continuing his former attitude toward the
+banker as though nothing had happened. But Braman had not forgiven him.
+Corrigan wasted no words:
+
+"Who's the best gun-man in this section?"
+
+Braman studied a minute. "Clay Levins," he said, finally.
+
+"Can you find him?"
+
+"Why, he's in town today; I saw him not more than fifteen minutes ago,
+going into the _Elk_!"
+
+"Find him and bring him here--by the back way," directed Corrigan.
+
+Braman went out, wondering. A few minutes later he returned, coming in at
+the front door, smiling with triumph. Shortly afterward Corrigan was
+opening the rear door on a tall, slender man of thirty-five, with a thin
+face, a mouth that drooped at the corners, and alert, furtive eyes. He
+wore a heavy pistol at his right hip, low, the bottom of the holster tied
+to the leather chaps, and as Corrigan closed the door he noted that the
+man's right hand lingered close to the butt of the weapon.
+
+"That's all right," said Corrigan; "you're perfectly safe here."
+
+He talked in low tones to the man, so that Braman could not hear. Levins
+departed shortly afterwards, grinning crookedly, tucking a piece of paper
+into a pocket, upon which Corrigan had transcribed something that had been
+written on the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Corrigan went to his desk and
+busied himself with some papers. Over in the courthouse, Judge Lindman
+took from a drawer in his desk a thin ledger--a duplicate of the one he
+had shown Corrigan--and going to the rear of the room opened the door of
+an iron safe and stuck the ledger out of sight under a mass of legal
+papers.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Marchmont left Corrigan he went straight to the _Plaza_, where he
+ordered a lunch and ate heartily. After finishing his meal he emerged from
+the saloon and stood near one of the front windows. One of the hundred
+dollar bills that Corrigan had given him he had "broke" in the _Plaza_,
+getting bills of small denomination in change, and in his right trousers'
+pocket was a roll that bulked comfortably in his hand. The feel of it made
+him tingle with satisfaction, as, except for the other thousand that
+Corrigan had given him some months ago, it was the only money he had had
+for a long time. He knew he should take the next train out of Manti; that
+he had done a hazardous thing in baiting Corrigan, but he was lonesome and
+yearned for the touch and voice of the crowds that thronged in and out of
+the saloons and the stores, and presently he joined them, wandering from
+saloon to saloon, drinking occasionally, his content and satisfaction
+increasing in proportion to the quantity of liquor he drank.
+
+And then, at about three o'clock, in the barroom of the _Plaza_, he heard
+a discordant voice at his elbow. He saw men crowding, jostling one another
+to get away from the spot where he stood--crouching, pale of face, their
+eyes on him. It made him feel that he was the center of interest, and he
+wheeled, staggering a little--for he had drunk much more than he had
+intended--to see what had happened. He saw Clay Levins standing close to
+him, his thin lips in a cruel curve, his eyes narrowed and glittering, his
+body in a suggestive crouch. The silence that had suddenly descended smote
+Marchmont's ears like a momentary deafness, and he looked foolishly around
+him, uncertain, puzzled. Levins' voice shocked him, sobered him, whitened
+his face:
+
+"Fork over that coin you lifted from me in the _Elk_, you light-fingered
+hound!" said Levins.
+
+Marchmont divined the truth now. He made his second mistake of the day. He
+allowed a flash of rage to trick him into reaching for his pistol. He got
+it into his hand and almost out of the pocket before Levins' first bullet
+struck him, and before he could draw it entirely out the second savage
+bark of the gun in Levins' hand shattered the stillness of the room.
+Soundlessly, his face wreathed in a grin of hideous satire, Marchmont sank
+to the floor and stretched out on his back.
+
+Before his body was still, Levins had drawn out the bills that had reposed
+in his victim's pocket. Crumpling them in his hand he walked to the bar
+and tossed them to the barkeeper.
+
+"Look at 'em," he directed. "I'm provin' they're mine. Good thing I got
+the numbers on 'em." While the crowd jostled and crushed about him he read
+the numbers from the paper Corrigan had given him, grinning coldly as the
+barkeeper confirmed them. A deputy sheriff elbowed his way through the
+press to Levins' side, and the gun-man spoke to him, lightly: "I reckon
+everybody saw him reach for his gun when I told him to fork the coin
+over," he said, indicating his victim. "So you ain't got nothin' on me.
+But if you're figgerin' that the coin ain't mine, why I reckon a guy named
+Corrigan will back up my play."
+
+The deputy took him at his word. They found Corrigan at his desk in the
+bank building.
+
+"Sure," he said when the deputy had told his story; "I paid Levins the
+money this morning. Is it necessary for you to know what for? No? Well, it
+seems that the pickpocket got just what he deserved." He offered the
+deputy a cigar, and the latter went out, satisfied.
+
+Later, Corrigan looked appraisingly at Levins, who still graced the
+office.
+
+"That was rather an easy job," he said. "Marchmont was slow with a gun.
+With a faster man--a man, say--" he appeared to meditate "--like Trevison,
+for instance. You'd have to be pretty careful--"
+
+"Trevison's my friend," grinned Levins coldly as he got to his feet.
+"There's nothin' doin' there--understand? Get it out of your brain-box,
+for if anything happens to 'Firebrand,' I'll perforate you sure as hell!"
+
+He stalked out of the office, leaving Corrigan looking after him,
+frowningly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+STRAIGHT TALK
+
+
+Ten years of lonesomeness, of separation from all the things he held dear,
+with nothing for his soul to feed upon except the bitterness he got from a
+contemplation of the past; with nothing but his pride and his
+determination to keep him from becoming what he had seen many men in this
+country become--dissolute irresponsibles, drifting like ships without
+rudders--had brought into Trevison's heart a great longing. He was like a
+man who for a long time has been deprived of the solace of good tobacco,
+and--to use a simile that he himself manufactured--he yearned to capture
+someone from the East, sit beside him and fill his lungs, his brain, his
+heart, his soul, with the breath, the aroma, the spirit of the land of his
+youth. The appearance of Miss Benham at Manti had thrilled him. For ten
+years he had seen no eastern woman, and at sight of her the old hunger of
+the soul became acute in him, aroused in him a passionate worship that
+made his blood run riot. It was the call of sex to sex, made doubly
+stirring by the girl's beauty, her breeziness, her virile, alluring
+womanhood--by the appeal she made to the love of the good and the true in
+his character. His affection for Hester Keyes, he had long known, had been
+merely the vanity-tickling regard of the callow youth--the sex attraction
+of adolescence, the "puppy" love that smites all youth alike. For Rosalind
+Benham a deeper note had been struck. Its force rocked him, intoxicated
+him; his head rang with the music it made.
+
+During the three weeks of her stay at Blakeley's they had been much
+together. Rosalind had accepted his companionship as a matter of course.
+He had told her many things about his past, and was telling her many more
+things, as they sat today on an isolated excrescence of sand and rock and
+bunch grass surrounded by a sea of sage. From where they sat they could
+see Manti--Manti, alive, athrob, its newly-come hundreds busy as ants with
+their different pursuits.
+
+The intoxication of the girl's presence had never been so great as it was
+today. A dozen times, drunken with the nearness of her, with the delicate
+odor from her hair, as a stray wisp fluttered into his face, he had come
+very near to catching her in his arms. But he had grimly mastered the
+feeling, telling himself that he was not a savage, and that such an action
+would be suicidal to his hopes. It cost him an effort, though, to restrain
+himself, as his flushed face, his burning eyes and his labored breath,
+told.
+
+His broken wrist had healed. His hatred of Corrigan had been kept alive by
+a recollection of the fight, by a memory of the big man's quickness to
+take advantage of the banker's foul trick, and by the passion for revenge
+that had seized him, that held him in a burning clutch. Jealousy of the
+big man he would not have admitted; but something swelled his chest when
+he thought of Corrigan coming West in the same car with the girl--a vague,
+gnawing something that made his teeth clench and his facial muscles cord.
+
+Rosalind had not told him that she had recognized him, that during the ten
+years of his exile he had been her ideal, but she could close her eyes at
+this minute and imagine herself on the stair-landing at Hester Keyes'
+party, could feel the identical wave of thrilling admiration that had
+passed over her when her gaze had first rested on him. Yes, it had
+survived, that girlhood passion, but she had grown much older and
+experienced, and she could not let him see what she felt. But her
+curiosity was keener than ever; in no other man of her acquaintance had
+she felt this intense interest.
+
+"I remember you telling me the other day that your men would have used
+their rifles, had the railroad company attempted to set men to work in the
+cut. I presume you must have given them orders to shoot. I can't
+understand you. You were raised in the East, your parents are wealthy; it
+is presumed they gave you advantages--in fact, you told me they had sent
+you to college. You must have learned respect for the law while there. And
+yet you would have had your men resist forcibly."
+
+"I told you before that I respected the law--so long as the law is just
+and the fellow I'm fighting is governed by it. But I refuse to fight under
+a rule that binds one of my hands, while my opponent sails into me with
+both hands free. I've never been a believer in the doctrine of 'turn the
+other cheek.' We are made with a capacity for feeling, and it boils,
+unrestrained, in me. I never could play the hypocrite; I couldn't say 'no'
+when I thought 'yes' and make anybody believe it. I couldn't lie and evade
+and side-step, even to keep from getting licked. I always told the truth
+and expressed my feelings in language as straight, simple, and direct as I
+could. It wasn't always the discreet way. Perhaps it wasn't always the
+wise way. I won't argue that. But it was the only way I knew. It caused me
+a lot of trouble--I was always in trouble. My record in college would make
+a prize fighter turn green with envy. I'm not proud of what I've made of
+my life. But I haven't changed. I do what my heart prompts me to do, and I
+say what I think, regardless of consequences."
+
+"That would be a very good method--if everybody followed it," said the
+girl. "Unfortunately, it invites enmity. Subtlety will take you farther in
+the world." She was smitten with an impulse, unwise, unconventional. But
+the conventions! The East seemed effete and far. Besides, she spoke
+lightly:
+
+"Let us be perfectly frank, then. I think that perhaps you take yourself
+too seriously. Life is a tragedy to the tragic, a joke to the humorous, a
+drab canvas to the unimaginative. It all depends upon what temperament one
+sees it through. I dare say that I see you differently than you see
+yourself. 'O wad some power the giftie gi'e us to see oursel's as ithers
+see us'," she quoted, and laughed at the queer look in his eyes, for his
+admiration for her had leaped like a living thing at her bubbling spirits,
+and he was, figuratively, forced to place his heel upon it. "I confess it
+seems to me that you take a too tragic view of things," she went on. "You
+are like D'Artagnan, always eager to fly at somebody's throat. Possibly,
+you don't give other people credit for unselfish motives; you are too
+suspicious; and what you call plain talk may seem impertinence to
+others--don't you think? In any event, people don't like to hear the truth
+told about themselves--especially by a big, earnest, sober-faced man who
+seems to speak with conviction, and, perhaps, authority. I think you look
+for trouble, instead of trying to evade it. I think, too," she said,
+looking straight at him, "that you face the world in a too physical
+fashion; that you place too much dependence upon brawn and fire. That,
+following your own method of speaking your mind, is what I think of you. I
+tremble to imagine what you think of me for speaking so plainly."
+
+He laughed, his voice vibrating, and bold passion gleamed in his eyes. He
+looked fairly at her, holding her gaze, compelling it with the intensity
+of his own, and she drew a deep, tremulous breath of understanding. There
+followed a tense, breathless silence. And then--
+
+"You've brought it on yourself," he said. "I love you. You are going to
+marry me--someday. That's what I think of you!"
+
+[Illustration: "YOU ARE GOING TO MARRY ME--SOME DAY. THAT'S
+WHAT I THINK OF YOU!"]
+
+She got to her feet, her cheeks flaming, confused, half-frightened, though
+a fierce exultation surged within her. She had half expected this, half
+dreaded it, and now that it had burst upon her in such volcanic fashion
+she realized that she had not been entirely prepared. She sought refuge in
+banter, facing him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing.
+
+"'Firebrand,'" she said. "The name fits you--Mr. Carson was right. I
+warned you--if you remember--that you placed too much dependence on brawn
+and fire. You are making it very hard for me to see you again."
+
+He had risen too, and stood before her, and he now laughed frankly.
+
+"I told you I couldn't play the hypocrite. I have said what I think. I
+want you. But that doesn't mean that I am going to carry you away to the
+mountains. I've got it off my mind, and I promise not to mention it
+again--until you wish it. But don't forget that some day you are going to
+love me."
+
+"How marvelous," said she, tauntingly, though in her confusion she could
+not meet his gaze, looking downward. "How do you purpose to bring it
+about?"
+
+"By loving you so strongly that you can't help yourself."
+
+"With your confidence--" she began. But he interrupted, laughing:
+
+"We're going to forget it, now," he said. "I promised to show you that
+_Pueblo_, and we'll have just about time enough to make it and back to the
+Bar B before dark."
+
+And they rode away presently, chatting on indifferent subjects. And,
+keeping his promise, he said not another word about his declaration. But
+the girl, stealing glances at him, wondered much--and reached no
+decision.
+
+When they reached the abandoned Indian village, many of its houses still
+standing, he laughed. "That would make a dandy fort."
+
+"Always thinking of fighting," she mocked. But her eyes flashed as she
+looked at him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE SPIRIT OF MANTI
+
+
+The Benham private car had clacked eastward over the rails three weeks
+before, bearing with it as a passenger only the negro autocrat. At the
+last moment, discovering that she could not dissuade Rosalind from her mad
+decision to stay at Blakeley's ranch, Agatha had accompanied her. The
+private car was now returning, bearing the man who had poetically declared
+to his fawning Board of Directors: "Our railroad is the magic wand that
+will make the desert bloom like the rose. We are embarked upon a project,
+gentlemen, so big, so vast, that it makes even your president feel a pulse
+of pride. This project is nothing more nor less than the opening of a
+region of waste country which an all-wise Creator has permitted to slumber
+for ages, for no less purpose than to reserve it to the horny-handed son
+of toil of our glorious country. It will awaken to the clarion call of our
+wealth, our brains, and our genius." He then mentioned Corrigan and the
+Midland grant--another reservation of Providence, which a credulous and
+asinine Congress had bestowed, in fee-simple, upon a certain suave
+gentleman, named Marchmont--and disseminated such other details as a
+servile board of directors need know; and then he concluded with a flowery
+peroration that left his hearers smirking fatuously.
+
+And today J. Chalfant Benham was come to look upon the first fruits of his
+efforts.
+
+As he stepped down from the private car he was greeted by vociferous
+cheers from a jostling and enthusiastic populace--for J. C. had very
+carefully wired the time of his arrival and Corrigan had acted
+accordingly, knowing J. C. well. J. C. was charmed--he said so, later,
+in a speech from a flimsy, temporary stand erected in the middle of the
+street in front of the _Plaza_--and in saying so he merely told the
+truth. For, next to money-making, adulation pleased him most. He would
+have been an able man had he ignored the latter passion. It seared his
+intellect as a pernicious habit blasts the character. It sat on his
+shoulders--extravagantly squared; it shone in his eyes--inviting
+inspection; his lips, curved with smug complacence, betrayed it as,
+sitting in Corrigan's office after the conclusion of the festivities,
+he smiled at the big man.
+
+"Manti is a wonderful town--a _wonderful_ town!" he declared. "It may be
+said that success is lurking just ahead. And much of the credit is due to
+your efforts," he added, generously.
+
+Corrigan murmured a polite disclaimer, and plunged into dry details. J. C.
+had a passion for dry details. For many hours they sat in the office,
+their heads close together. Braman was occasionally called in. Judge
+Lindman was summoned after a time. J. C. shook the Judge's hand warmly and
+then resumed his chair, folding his chubby hands over his corpulent
+stomach.
+
+"Judge Lindman," he said; "you thoroughly understand our position in this
+Midland affair."
+
+The Judge glanced at Corrigan. "Thoroughly."
+
+"No doubt there will be some contests. But the present claimants have no
+legal status. Mr. -- (here J. C. mentioned a name that made the Judge's
+eyes brighten) tells me there will be no hitch. There could not be, of
+course. In the absence of any court record of possible transfers, the
+title to the land, of course, reverts to the Midland Company. As Mr.
+Corrigan has explained to me, he is entirely within his rights, having
+secured the title to the land from Mr. Marchmont, representing the
+Midland. You have no record of any transfers from the Midland to the
+present claimants or their predecessors, have you? There is no such
+record?"
+
+The Judge saw Corrigan's amused grin, and surmised that J. C. was merely
+playing with him.
+
+"No," he said, with some bitterness.
+
+"Then of course you are going to stand with Mr. Corrigan against the
+present claimants?"
+
+"I presume so."
+
+"H'm," said J. C. "If there is any doubt about it, perhaps I had better
+remind you--"
+
+The Judge groaned in agony of spirit. "It won't be necessary to remind
+me."
+
+"So I thought. Well, gentlemen--" J. C. arose "--that will be all for this
+evening."
+
+Thus he dismissed the Judge, who went to his cot behind a partition in the
+courthouse, while Corrigan and J. C. stepped outside and walked slowly
+toward the private car. They lingered at the steps, and presently J. C.
+called and a negro came out with two chairs. J. C. and Corrigan draped
+themselves in the chairs and smoked. Dusk was settling over Manti; lights
+appeared in the windows of the buildings; a medley of noises reached the
+ears of the two men. By day Manti was lively enough, by night it was a
+maelstrom of frenzied action. A hundred cow-ponies were hitched to rails
+that skirted the street in front of store and saloon; cowboys from
+ranches, distant and near, rollicked from building to building, touching
+elbows with men less picturesquely garbed; the strains of crude music
+smote the flat, dead desert air; yells, shouts, laughter filtered through
+the bedlam; an engine, attached to a train of cars on the main track near
+the private car, wheezed steam in preparation for its eastward trip, soon
+to begin.
+
+Benham had solemn thoughts, sitting there, watching.
+
+"That crowd wouldn't have much respect for law. They're living at such a
+pitch that they'd lose their senses entirely if any sudden crisis should
+arise. I'd feel my way carefully, Corrigan--if I were you."
+
+Corrigan laughed deeply. "Don't lose any sleep over it. There are fifty
+deputy marshals in that crowd--and they're heeled. The rear room in the
+bank building is a young arsenal."
+
+Benham started. "How on earth--" he began.
+
+"Law and order," smiled Corrigan. "A telegram did it. The territory wants
+a reputation for safety."
+
+"By the way," said Benham, after a silence; "I _had_ to take that Trevison
+affair out of your hands. We don't want to antagonize the man. He will be
+valuable to us--later."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Carrington, the engineer I sent out here to look over the country before
+we started work, did considerable nosing around Trevison's land while in
+the vicinity. He told me there were unmistakable signs of coal of a good
+quality and enormous quantity. We ought to be able to drive a good bargain
+with Trevison one of these days--if we handle him carefully."
+
+Corrigan frowned and grunted. "His land is included in that of the Midland
+grant. He shall be treated like the others. If that is your only
+objection--"
+
+"It isn't," said Benham. "I have discovered that 'Brand' Trevison is
+really Trevison Brandon, the disgraced son of Orrin Brandon, the
+millionaire."
+
+The darkness hid Corrigan's ugly pout. "How did you discover that?" he
+said, coolly, after a little.
+
+"My daughter mentioned it in one of her letters to me. I confirmed, by
+quizzing Brandon, senior. Brandon is powerful and obstinate. If he should
+discover what our game is he would fight us to the last ditch. The whole
+thing would go to smash, perhaps."
+
+"You didn't tell him about his son being out here?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+"Good!"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That it's my land; that I'm going to take it away from Trevison, father
+or no father. I'm going to break him. That's what I mean!" Corrigan's big
+hands were clenched on the arms of his chair; his eyes gleamed balefully
+in the semi-darkness. J. C. felt a tremor of awed admiration for him. He
+laughed, nervously. "Well," he said, "if you think you can handle it--"
+
+They sat there for a long time, smoking in silence. One thought dominated
+Corrigan's mind: "Three weeks, and exchanging confidences--damn him!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+A discordant note floated out of the medley of sound in palpitating Manti,
+sailed over the ridiculous sky line and smote the ears of the two on the
+platform. The air rocked an instant later with a cheer, loud, pregnant
+with enthusiasm. And then a mass of men, close-packed, undulating, moved
+down the street toward the private car.
+
+Benham's face whitened and he rose from his chair. "Good God!" he said;
+"what's happened?" He felt Corrigan's hand on his shoulder, forcing him
+back into his chair.
+
+"It can't concern us," said the big man; "wait; we'll know pretty soon.
+Something's broke loose."
+
+The two men watched--Benham breathless, wide-eyed; Corrigan with close-set
+lips and out-thrust chin. The mass moved fast. It passed the _Plaza_, far
+up the street, receiving additions each second as men burst out of doors
+and dove to the fringe; and grew in front as other men skittered into it,
+hanging to its edge and adding to the confusion. But Corrigan noted that
+the mass had a point, like a wedge, made by three men who seemed to lead
+it. Something familiar in the stature and carriage of one of the men
+struck Corrigan, and he strained his eyes into the darkness the better to
+see. He could be sure of the identity of the man, presently, and he set
+his jaws tighter and continued to watch, with bitter malignance in his
+gaze, for the man was Trevison. There was no mistaking the broad
+shoulders, the set of the head, the big, bold and confident poise of the
+man. At the point of the wedge he looked what he was--the leader; he
+dominated the crowd; it became plain to Corrigan as the mass moved closer
+that he was intent on something that had aroused the enthusiasm of his
+followers, for there were shouts of: "That's the stuff! Give it to them!
+Run 'em out!"
+
+For an instant as the crowd passed the _Elk_ saloon, its lights revealing
+faces in its glare, Corrigan thought its destination was the private car,
+and his hand went to his hip. It was withdrawn an instant later, though,
+when the leader swerved and marched toward the train on the main track. In
+the light also, Corrigan saw something that gave him a hint of the
+significance of it all. His laugh broke the tension of the moment.
+
+"It's Denver Ed and Poker Charley," he said to Benham. "It's likely
+they've been caught cheating and have been invited to make themselves
+scarce." And he laughed again, with slight contempt, at Benham's sigh of
+relief.
+
+The mass surged around the rear coach of the train. There was some
+laughter, mingled with jeers, and while this was at its height a man broke
+from the mass and walked rapidly toward Corrigan and Benham. It was
+Braman. Corrigan questioned him.
+
+"It's two professional gamblers. They've been fleecing Manti's easy marks
+with great facility. Tonight they had Clay Levins in the back room of the
+_Belmont_. He had about a thousand dollars (the banker looked at Corrigan
+and closed an eye), and they took it away from him. It looked square, and
+Levins didn't kick. Couldn't anyway--he's lying in the back room of the
+_Belmont_ now, paralyzed. I think that somebody told Levins' wife about
+him shooting Marchmont yesterday, and Mrs. Levins likely sent Trevison
+after hubby--knowing hubby's appetite for booze. Levins isn't giving the
+woman a square deal, so far as that is concerned," went on the banker;
+"she and the kids are in want half the time, and I've heard that
+Trevison's helped them out on quite a good many occasions. Anyway,
+Trevison appeared in town this afternoon, looking for Levins. Before he
+found him he heard these two beauties framing up on him. That's the
+result--the two beauties go out. The crowd was for stringing them up, but
+Trevison wouldn't have it."
+
+"Marchmont?" interrupted Benham. "It isn't possible--"
+
+"Why not?" grinned Corrigan. "Yes, sir, the former president of the
+Midland Company was shot to death yesterday for pocket-picking."
+
+"Lord!" said Benham.
+
+"So Levins' wife sent Trevison for hubby," said Corrigan, quietly. "She's
+_that_ thick with Trevison, is she?"
+
+"Get that out of your mind, Jeff," returned the banker, noting Corrigan's
+tone. "Everybody that knows of the case will tell you that everything's
+straight there."
+
+"Well," Corrigan laughed, "I'm glad to hear it."
+
+The train steamed away as they talked, and the crowd began to break up and
+scatter toward the saloons. Before that happened, however, there was a
+great jam around Trevison; he was shaking hands right and left. Voices
+shouted that he was "all there!" As he started away he was forced to shove
+his way through the press around him.
+
+Benham had been watching closely this evidence of Trevison's popularity;
+he linked it with some words that his daughter had written to him
+regarding the man, and as a thought formed in his mind he spoke it.
+
+"I'd reconsider about hooking up with that man Trevison, Corrigan. He's
+one of those fellows that win popularity easily, and it won't do you any
+good to antagonize him."
+
+"That's all right," laughed Corrigan, coldly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FOR THE "KIDDIES"
+
+
+Trevison dropped from Nigger at the dooryard of Levins' cabin, and looked
+with a grim smile at Levins himself lying face downward across the saddle
+on his own pony. He had carried Levins out of the _Belmont_ and had thrown
+him, as he would have thrown a sack of meal, across the saddle, where he
+had lain during the four-mile ride, except during two short intervals in
+which Trevison had lifted him off and laid him flat on the ground, to
+rest. Trevison had meditated, not without a certain wry humor, upon the
+strength and the protracted potency of Manti's whiskey, for not once
+during his home-coming had Levins shown the slightest sign of returning
+consciousness. He was as slack as a meal sack now, as Trevison lifted him
+from the pony's back and let him slip gently to the ground at his feet. A
+few minutes later, Trevison was standing in the doorway of the cabin, his
+burden over his shoulder, the weak glare of light from within the cabin
+stabbing the blackness of the night and revealing him to the white-faced
+woman who had answered his summons.
+
+Her astonishment had been of the mute, agonized kind; her eyes, hollow,
+eloquent with unspoken misery and resignation, would have told Trevison
+that this was not the first time, had he not known from personal
+observation. She stood watching, gulping, shame and mortification bringing
+patches of color into her cheeks, as Trevison carried Levins into a
+bedroom and laid him down, removing his boots. She was standing near the
+door when Trevison came out of the bedroom; she was facing the blackness
+of the desert night--a blacker future, unknowingly--and Trevison halted on
+the threshold of the bedroom door and set his teeth in sympathy. For the
+woman deserved better treatment. He had known her for several years--since
+the time when Levins, working for him, had brought her from a ranch on the
+other side of the Divide, announcing their marriage. It had been a
+different Levins, then, as it was a different wife who stood at the door
+now. She had faded; the inevitable metamorphosis wrought by neglect, worry
+and want, had left its husks--a wan, tired-looking woman of thirty who had
+only her hopes to nourish her soul. There were children, too--if that were
+any consolation. Trevison saw them as he glanced around the cabin. They
+were in another bed; through an archway he could see their chubby faces.
+His lungs filled and his lips straightened.
+
+But he grinned presently, in an effort to bring cheer into the cabin,
+reaching into a pocket and bringing out the money he had recovered for
+Levins.
+
+"There are nearly a thousand dollars here. Two tin-horn gamblers tried to
+take it from Clay, but I headed them off. Tell Clay--"
+
+Mrs. Levins' face whitened; it was more money than she had ever seen at
+one time.
+
+"Clay's?" she interrupted, perplexedly. "Why, where--"
+
+"I haven't the slightest idea--but he had it, they tried to take it away
+from him--it's here now--it belongs to you." He shoved it into her hands
+and stepped back, smiling at the stark wonder and joy in her eyes. He saw
+the joy vanish--concern and haunting worry came into her eyes.
+
+"They told me that Clay shot--killed--a man yesterday. Is it true?" She
+cast a fearing look at the bed where the children lay.
+
+"The damned fools!"
+
+"Then it's true!" She covered her face with her hands, the money in them.
+Then she took the hands away and looked at the money in them, loathingly.
+"Do you think Clay--"
+
+"No!" he said shortly, anticipating. "That couldn't be. For the man Clay
+killed had this money on him. Clay accused him of picking his pocket. Clay
+gave the bartender in the _Plaza_ the number of each bill before he saw
+them after taking the bills out of the pickpocket's clothing. So it can't
+be as you feared."
+
+She murmured incoherently and pressed both hands to her breast. He laughed
+and walked to the door.
+
+"Well, you need it, you and the kiddies. I'm glad to have been of some
+service to you. Tell Clay he owes me something for cartage. If there is
+anything I can do for you and Clay and the kiddies I'd be only too glad."
+
+"Nothing--now," said the woman, gratitude shining from her eyes, mingling
+with a worried gleam. "Oh!" she added, passionately; "if Clay was only
+different! Can't you help him to be strong, Mr. Trevison? Like you? Can't
+you be with him more, to try to keep him straight for the sake of the
+children?"
+
+"Clay's odd, lately," Trevison frowned. "He seems to have changed a lot.
+I'll do what I can, of course." He stepped out of the door and then looked
+back, calling: "I'll put Clay's pony away. Good night." And the darkness
+closed around him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Over at Blakeley's ranch, J. C. Benham had just finished an inspection of
+the interior and had sank into the depths of a comfortable chair facing
+his daughter. Blakeley and his wife had retired, the deal that would place
+the ranch in possession of Benham having been closed. J. C. gazed
+critically at his daughter.
+
+"Like it here, eh?" he said. "Well, you look it." He shook a finger at
+her. "Agatha has been writing to me rather often, lately," he added. There
+followed no answer and J. C. went on, narrowing his eyes at the girl. "She
+tells me that this fellow who calls himself 'Brand' Trevison has proven
+himself a--shall we say, persistent?--escort on your trips of inspection
+around the ranch."
+
+Rosalind's face slowly crimsoned.
+
+"H'm," said Benham.
+
+"I thought Corrigan--" he began. The girl's eyes chilled.
+
+"H'm," said Benham, again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+EXPOSED TO THE SUNLIGHT
+
+
+It was a month before Trevison went to town, again. Only once during that
+time did he see Rosalind Benham, for the Blakeleys had vacated, and goods
+and servants had arrived from the East and needed attention. Rosalind
+presided at the Bar B ranchhouse, under Agatha's chaperonage, and she had
+invited Trevison to visit her whenever the mood struck him. He had been in
+the mood many times, but had found no opportunity, for the various
+activities of range work claimed his attention. After a critical survey of
+Manti and vicinity, J. C. had climbed aboard his private car to be whisked
+to New York, where he reported to his Board of Directors that Manti would
+one day be one of the greatest commercial centers of the West.
+
+Vague rumors of a legal tangle involving the land around Manti had reached
+Trevison's ears, and this morning he had jumped on Nigger, determined to
+run the rumors down. He made a wide swing, following the river, which took
+him miles from his own property and into the enormous basin which one day
+the engineers expected to convert into a mammoth lake from which the
+thirst of many dry acres of land was to be slaked; and halting Nigger near
+the mouth of the gorge, watched the many laborers, directed by various
+grades of bosses, at work building the foundation of the dam. Later, he
+crossed the basin, followed the well-beaten trail up the slope to the
+level, and shortly he was in Hanrahan's saloon across the street from
+Braman's bank, listening to the plaint of Jim Lefingwell, the Circle Cross
+owner, whose ranch was east of town. Lefingwell was big, florid, and
+afflicted with perturbation that was almost painful. So exercised was he
+that he was at times almost incoherent.
+
+"She's boomin', ain't she? Meanin' this man's town, of course. An' a man's
+got a right to cash in on a boom whenever he gits the chance. Well, I'd
+figgered to cash in. I ain't no hawg an' I got savvy enough to perceive
+without the aid of any damn fortune-teller that cattle is done in this
+country--considered as the main question. I've got a thousand acres of
+land--which I paid for in spot cash to Dick Kessler about eight years ago.
+If Dick was here he'd back me up in that. But he ain't here--the doggone
+fool went an' died about four years ago, leavin' me unprotected. Well,
+now, not digressin' any, I gits the idea that I'm goin' to unload
+consid'able of my thousand acres on the sufferin' fools that's yearnin' to
+come into this country an' work their heads off raisin' alfalfa an' hawgs,
+an' cabbages an' sons with Pick-a-dilly collars to be eddicated East an'
+come back home some day an' lift the mortgage from the old
+homestead--which job they always falls down on--findin' it more to their
+likin' to mortgage their souls to buy jew'l'ry for fast wimmin. Well, not
+digressin' any, I run a-foul of a guy last week which was dead set on
+investin' in ten acres of my land, skirtin' one of the irrigation ditches
+which they're figgerin' on puttin' in. The price I wanted was a heap
+satisfyin' to the guy. But he suggests that before he forks over the coin
+we go down to the courthouse an' muss up the records to see if my title is
+clear. Well, not digressin' any, she ain't! She ain't even nowheres clear
+a-tall--she ain't even there! She's wiped off, slick an' clean! There
+ain't a damned line to show that I ever bought my land from Dick Kessler,
+an' there ain't nothin' on no record to show that Dick Kessler ever owned
+it! What in hell do you think of that?
+
+"Now, not digressin' any," he went on as Trevison essayed to speak; "that
+ain't the worst of it. While I was in there, talkin' to Judge Lindman,
+this here big guy that you fit with--Corrigan--comes in. I gathers from
+the trend of his remarks that I never had a legal title to my land--that
+it belongs to the guy which bought it from the Midland Company--which is
+him. Now what in hell do you think of that?"
+
+"I knew Dick Kessler," said Trevison, soberly. "He was honest."
+
+"Square as a dollar!" violently affirmed Lefingwell.
+
+"It's too bad," sympathized Trevison. "That places you in a mighty bad
+fix. If there's anything I can do for you, why--"
+
+"Mr. 'Brand' Trevison?" said a voice at Trevison's elbow. Trevison turned,
+to see a short, heavily built man smiling mildly at him.
+
+"I'm a deputy from Judge Lindman's court," announced the man. "I've got a
+summons for you. Saw you coming in here--saves me a trip to your place."
+He shoved a paper into Trevison's hands, grinned, and went out. For an
+instant Trevison stood, looking after the man, wondering how, since the
+man was a stranger to him, he had recognized him--and then he opened the
+paper to discover that he was ordered to appear before Judge Lindman the
+following day to show cause why he should not be evicted from certain
+described property held unlawfully by him. The name, Jefferson Corrigan,
+appeared as plaintiff in the action.
+
+Lefingwell was watching Trevison's face closely, and when he saw it
+whiten, he muttered, understandingly:
+
+"You've got it, too, eh?"
+
+"Yes." Trevison shoved the paper into a pocket. "Looks like you're not
+going to be skinned alone, Lefingwell. Well, so-long; I'll see you
+later."
+
+He strode out, leaving Lefingwell slightly stunned over his abrupt
+leave-taking. A minute later he was in the squatty frame courthouse,
+towering above Judge Lindman, who had been seated at his desk and who had
+risen at his entrance.
+
+Trevison shoved the summons under Lindman's nose.
+
+"I just got this," he said. "What does it mean?"
+
+"It is perfectly understandable," the Judge smiled with forced affability.
+"The plaintiff, Mr. Jefferson Corrigan, is a claimant to the title of the
+land now held by you."
+
+"Corrigan can have no claim on my land; I bought it five years ago from
+old Buck Peters. He got it from a man named Taylor. Corrigan is
+bluffing."
+
+The Judge coughed and dropped his gaze from the belligerent eyes of the
+young man. "That will be determined in court," he said. "The entire land
+transactions in this county, covering a period of twenty-five years, are
+recorded in that book." And the Judge indicated a ledger on his desk.
+
+"I'll take a look at it." Trevison reached for the ledger, seized it, the
+Judge protesting, half-heartedly, though with the judicial dignity that
+had become habitual from long service in his profession.
+
+"This is a high-handed proceeding, young man. You are in contempt of
+court!" The Judge tried, but could not make his voice ring sincerely. It
+seemed to him that this vigorous, clear-eyed young man could see the guilt
+that he was trying to hide.
+
+Trevison laughed grimly, holding the Judge off with one hand while he
+searched the pages of the book, leaning over the desk. He presently closed
+the book with a bang and faced the Judge, breathing heavily, his muscles
+rigid, his eyes cold and glittering.
+
+"There's trickery here!" He took the ledger up and slammed it down on the
+desk again, his voice vibrating. "Judge Lindman, this isn't a true
+record--it is not the original record! I saw the original record five
+years ago, when I went personally to Dry Bottom with Buck Peters to have
+my deed recorded! This record is a fake--it has been substituted for the
+original! I demand that you stay proceedings in this matter until a search
+can be made for the original record!"
+
+"This is the original record." Again the Judge tried to make his voice
+ring sincerely, and again he failed. His one mistake had not hardened him
+and judicial dignity could not help him to conceal his guilty knowledge.
+He winced as he felt Trevison's burning gaze on him, and could not meet
+the young man's eyes, boring like metal points into his consciousness.
+Trevison sprang forward and seized him by the shoulders.
+
+"By God--you know it isn't the original!"
+
+The Judge succeeded in meeting Trevison's eyes, but his age, his
+vacillating will, his guilt, could not combat the overpowering force and
+virility of this volcanic youth, and his gaze shifted and fell.
+
+He heard Trevison catch his breath--shrilling it into his lungs in one
+great sob--and then he stood, white and shaking, beside the desk, looking
+at Trevison as the young man went out of the door--a laugh on his lips,
+mirthless, bitter, portending trouble and violence.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan was sitting at his desk in the bank building when Trevison
+entered the front door. The big man seemed to have been expecting his
+visitor, for just before the latter appeared at the door Corrigan took a
+pistol from a pocket and laid it on the desk beside him, placing a sheet
+of paper over it. He swung slowly around and faced Trevison, cold interest
+in his gaze. He nodded shortly as Trevison's eyes met his.
+
+In a dozen long strides Trevison was at his side. The young man was pale,
+his lips were set, he was breathing fast, his nostrils were dilated--he
+was at that pitch of excitement in which a word, a look or a movement
+brings on action, instantaneous, unrecking of consequences. But he
+exercised repression that made the atmosphere of the room tingle with
+tension of the sort that precedes the clash of mighty forces--he
+deliberately sat on one corner of Corrigan's desk, one leg dangling, the
+other resting on the floor, one hand resting on the idle leg, his body
+bent, his shoulders drooping a little forward. His voice was dry and
+light--Patrick Carson would have said his grin was tiger-like.
+
+"So that's the kind of a whelp you are!" he said.
+
+Corrigan caught his breath; his hands clenched, his face reddened darkly.
+He shot a quick glance at the sheet of paper under which he had placed the
+pistol. Trevison interpreted it, brushed the paper aside, disclosing the
+weapon. His lips curled; he took the pistol, "broke" it, tossed cartridges
+and weapon into a corner of the desk and laughed lowly.
+
+"So you were expecting me," he said. "Well, I'm here. You want my land,
+eh?"
+
+"I want the land that I'm entitled to under the terms of my purchase--the
+original Midland grant, consisting of one-hundred thousand acres. It
+belongs to me, and I mean to have it!"
+
+"You're a liar, Corrigan," said the young man, holding the other's gaze
+coldly; "you're a lying, sneaking crook. You have no claim to the land,
+and you know it!"
+
+Corrigan smiled stiffly. "The record of the deal I made with Jim Marchmont
+years before any of you people usurped the property is in my pocket at
+this minute. The court, here, will uphold it."
+
+Trevison narrowed his eyes at the big man and laughed, bitter humor in the
+sound. It was as though he had laughed to keep his rage from leaping,
+naked and murderous, into this discussion.
+
+"It takes nerve, Corrigan, to do what you are attempting; it does, by
+Heaven--sheer, brazen gall! It's been done, though, by little,
+pettifogging shysters, by piking real-estate crooks--thousands of parcels
+of property scattered all over the United States have been filched in that
+manner. But a hundred-thousand acres! It's the biggest steal that ever has
+been attempted, to my knowledge, short of a Government grab, and your
+imagination does you credit. It's easy to see what's been done. You've got
+a fake title from Marchmont, antedating ours; you've got a crooked judge
+here, to befuddle the thing with legal technicalities; you've got the
+money, the power, the greed, and the cold-blooded determination. But I
+don't think you understand what you're up against--do you? Nearly every
+man who owns this land that you want has worked hard for it. It's been
+bought with work, man--work and lonesomeness and blood--and souls. And now
+you want to sweep it all away with one stroke. You want to step in here
+and reap the benefit; you want to send us out of here, beggars." His voice
+leaped from its repression; it now betrayed the passion that was consuming
+him; it came through his teeth: "You can't hand me that sort of a raw
+deal, Corrigan, and make me like it. Understand that, right now. You're
+bucking the wrong man. You can drag the courts into it; you can wriggle
+around a thousand legal corners, but damn you, you can't avert what's
+bound to come if you don't lay off this deal, and that's a fight!" He
+laughed, full-throated, his voice vibrating from the strength of the
+passion that blazed in his eyes. He revealed, for an instant to Corrigan
+the wild, reckless untamed youth that knew no law save his own impulses,
+and the big man's eyes widened with the revelation, though he gave no
+other sign. He leaned back in his chair, smiling coldly, idly flecking a
+bit of ash from his shirt where it had fallen from his cigar.
+
+"I am prepared for a fight. You'll get plenty of it before you're
+through--if you don't lie down and be good." There was malice in his look,
+complacent consciousness of his power. More, there was an impulse to
+reveal to this young man whom he intended to ruin, at least one of the
+motives that was driving him. He yielded to the impulse.
+
+"I'm going to tell you something. I think I would have let you out of this
+deal, if you hadn't been so fresh. But you made a grand-stand play before
+the girl I am going to marry. You showed off your horse to make a bid for
+her favor. You paraded before her window in the car to attract her
+attention. I saw you. You rode me down. You'll get no mercy. I'm going to
+break you. I'm going to send you back to your father, Brandon, senior, in
+worse condition than when you left, ten years ago." He sneered as Trevison
+started and stepped on the floor, rigid.
+
+"How did you recognize me?" Curiosity had dulled the young man's passion;
+his tone was hoarse.
+
+"How?" Corrigan laughed, mockingly. "Did you think you could repose any
+confidence in a woman you have known only about a month? Did you think she
+wouldn't tell me--her promised husband? She has told me--everything that
+she succeeded in getting out of you. She is heart and soul with me in this
+deal. She is ambitious. Do you think she would hesitate to sacrifice a
+clod-hopper like you? She's very clever, Trevison; she's deep, and more
+than a match for you in wits. Fight, if you like, you'll get no sympathy
+there."
+
+Trevison's faith in Miss Benham had received a shock; Corrigan's words had
+not killed it, however.
+
+"You're a liar!" he said.
+
+Corrigan flushed, but smiled icily. "How many people know that you have
+coal on your land, Trevison?"
+
+He saw Trevison's hands clench, and he laughed in grim amusement. It
+pleased him to see his enemy writhe and squirm before him; the grimness
+came because of a mental picture, in his mind at this minute, of Trevison
+confiding in the girl. He looked up, the smile freezing on his lips, for
+within a foot of his chest was the muzzle of Trevison's pistol. He saw the
+trigger finger contracting; saw Trevison's free hand clenched, the muscles
+corded and knotted--he felt the breathless, strained, unreal calm that
+precedes tragedy, grim and swift. He slowly stiffened, but did not shrink
+an inch. It took him seconds to raise his gaze to Trevison's face, and
+then he caught his breath quickly and smiled with straight lips.
+
+"No; you won't do it, Trevison," he said, slowly; "you're not that kind."
+He deliberately swung around in the chair and drew another cigar from a
+box on the desk top, lit it and leaned back, again facing the pistol.
+
+Trevison restored the pistol to the holster, brushing a hand uncertainly
+over his eyes as though to clear his mental vision, for the shock that had
+come with the revelation of Miss Benham's duplicity had made his brain
+reel with a lust to kill. He laughed hollowly. His voice came cold and
+hard:
+
+"You're right--it wouldn't do. It would be plain murder, and I'm not quite
+up to that. You know your men, don't you--you coyote's whelp! You know
+I'll fight fair. You'll do yours underhandedly. Get up! There's your gun!
+Load it! Let's see if you've got the nerve to face a gun, with one in your
+own hand!"
+
+"I'll do my fighting in my own way." Corrigan's eyes kindled, but he did
+not move. Trevison made a gesture of contempt, and wheeled, to go. As he
+turned he caught a glimpse of a hand holding a pistol, as it vanished into
+a narrow crevice between a jamb and the door that led to the rear room. He
+drew his own weapon with a single movement, and swung around to Corrigan,
+his muscles tensed, his eyes alert and chill with menace.
+
+"I'll bore you if you wink an eyelash!" he warned, in a whisper.
+
+He leaped, with the words, to the door, lunging against it, sending it
+crashing back so that it smashed against the wall, overbalancing some
+boxes that reposed on a shelf and sending them clattering. He stood in the
+opening, braced for another leap, tall, big, his muscles swelling and
+rippling, recklessly eager. Against the partition, which was still
+swaying, his arms outstretched, a pistol in one hand, trying to crowd
+still farther back to escape the searching glance of Trevison's eyes, was
+Braman.
+
+He had overheard Trevison's tense whisper to Corrigan. The cold savagery
+in it had paralyzed him, and he gasped as Trevison's eyes found him, and
+the pistol that he tried to raise dangled futilely from his nerveless
+fingers. It thudded heavily upon the boards of the floor an instant later,
+a shriek of fear mingling with the sound as he went down in a heap from a
+vicious, deadening blow from Trevison's fist.
+
+Trevison's leap upon Braman had been swift; he was back in the doorway
+instantly, looking at Corrigan, his eyes ablaze with rage, wild, reckless,
+bitter. He laughed--the sound of it brought a grayish pallor to Corrigan's
+face.
+
+"That explains your nerve!" he taunted. "It's a frame-up. You sent the
+deputy after me--pointed me out when I went into Hanrahan's! That's how he
+knew me! You knew I'd come in here to have it out with you, and you
+figured to have Braman shoot me when my back was turned! Ha, ha!" He swung
+his pistol on Corrigan; the big man gripped the arms of his chair and sat
+rigid, staring, motionless. For an instant there was no sound. And then
+Trevison laughed again.
+
+"Bah!" he said; "I can't use your methods! You're safe so long as you
+don't move." He laughed again as he looked down at the banker. Reaching
+down, he grasped the inert man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him
+through the door, out into the banking room, past Corrigan, who watched
+him wonderingly and to the front, there he dropped him and turning,
+answered the question that he saw shining in Corrigan's eyes:
+
+"I don't work in the dark! We'll take this case out into the sunlight, so
+the whole town can have a look at it!"
+
+He stooped swiftly, grasped Braman around the middle, swung him aloft and
+hurled him through the window, into the street, the glass, shattered,
+clashing and jangling around him. He turned to Corrigan, laughing lowly:
+
+"Get up. Manti will want to know. I'm going to do the talking!"
+
+He forced Corrigan to the front door, and stood on the threshold behind
+him, silent, watching.
+
+A hundred doorways were vomiting men. The crash of glass had carried far,
+and visions of a bank robbery filled many brains as their owners raced
+toward the doorway where Trevison stood, the muzzle of his pistol jammed
+firmly against Corrigan's back.
+
+The crowd gathered, in the manner peculiar to such scenes, coming from all
+directions and converging at one point, massing densely in front of the
+bank building, surrounding the fallen banker, pushing, jostling,
+straining, craning necks for better views, eager-voiced, curious.
+
+No one touched Braman. On the contrary, there were many in the front
+fringe that braced their bodies against the crush, shoving backward,
+crying that a man was hurt and needed breathing space. They were unheeded,
+and when the banker presently recovered consciousness he was lifted to his
+feet and stood, pressed close to the building, swaying dizzily, pale, weak
+and shaken.
+
+Word had gone through the crowd that it was not a robbery, for there were
+many there who knew Trevison; they shouted greetings to him, and he
+answered them, standing back of Corrigan, grim and somber.
+
+Foremost in the crowd was Mullarky, who on another day had seen a fight at
+this same spot. He had taken a stand directly in front of the door of the
+bank, and had been using his eyes and his wits rapidly since his coming.
+And when two or three men from the crowd edged forward and tried to push
+their way to Corrigan, Mullarky drew a pistol, leaped to the door landing
+beside Trevison and trained his weapon, on them.
+
+"Stand back, or I'll plug you, sure as I'm a foot high! There's hell to
+pay here, an' me friend gets a square deal--whatever he's done!"
+
+"Right!" came other voices from various points in the crowd; "a square
+deal--no interference!"
+
+Judge Lindman came out into the street, urged by curiosity. He had stepped
+down from the doorway of the courthouse and had instantly been carried
+with the crowd to a point directly in front of Corrigan and Trevison,
+where he stood, bare-headed, pale, watching silently. Corrigan saw him,
+and smiled faintly at him. The easterner's eye sought out several faces in
+the crowd near him, and when he finally caught the gaze of a certain
+individual who had been eyeing him inquiringly for some moments, he slowly
+closed an eye and moved his head slightly toward the rear of the building.
+Instantly the man whistled shrilly with his fingers, as though to summon
+someone far down the street, and slipping around the edge of the crowd
+made his way around to the rear of the bank building, where he was joined
+presently by other men, roughly garbed, who carried pistols. One of them
+climbed in through a window, opened the door, and the others--numbering
+now twenty-five or thirty, dove into the room.
+
+Out in front a silence had fallen. Trevison had lifted a hand and the
+crowd strained its ears to hear.
+
+"I've caught a crook!" declared Trevison, the frenzy of fight still
+surging through his veins. "He's not a cheap crook--I give him credit for
+that. All he wants to do is to steal the whole county. He'll do it, too,
+if we don't head him off. I'll tell you more about him in a minute.
+There's another of his stripe." He pointed to Braman, who cringed. "I
+threw him out through the window, where the sunlight could shine on him.
+He tried to shoot me in the back--the big crook here, framed up on me. I
+want you all to know what you're up against. They're after all the land in
+this section; they've clouded every title. It's a raw, dirty deal. I see
+now, why they haven't sold a foot of the land they own here; why they've
+shoved the cost of leases up until it's ruination to pay them. They're
+land thieves, commercial pirates. They're going to euchre everybody out
+of--"
+
+Trevison caught a gasp from the crowd--concerted, sudden. He saw the mass
+sway in unison, stiffen, stand rigid; and he turned his head quickly, to
+see the door behind him, and the broken window through which he had thrown
+Braman--the break running the entire width of the building--filled with
+men armed with rifles.
+
+He divined the situation, sensed his danger--the danger that faced the
+crowd should one of its members make a hostile movement.
+
+"Steady there, boys!" he shouted. "Don't start anything. These men are
+here through prearrangement--it's another frame-up. Keep your guns out of
+sight!" He turned, to see Corrigan grinning contemptuously at him. He met
+the look with naked exultation and triumph.
+
+"Got your body-guard within call, eh?" he jeered. "You need one. You've
+cut me short, all right; but I've said enough to start a fire that will
+rage through this part of the country until every damned thief is burned
+out! You've selected the wrong man for a victim, Corrigan."
+
+He stepped down into the street, sheathing his pistol. He heard Corrigan's
+voice, calling after him, saying:
+
+"Grand-stand play again!"
+
+Trevison turned; the gaze of the two men met, held, their hatred glowing
+bitter in their eyes; the gaze broke, like two sharp blades rasping apart,
+and Corrigan turned to his deputies, scowling; while Trevison pushed his
+way through the crowd.
+
+Five minutes later, while Corrigan was talking with the deputies and
+Braman in the rear room of the bank building, Trevison was standing in the
+courthouse talking with Judge Lindman. The Judge stared out into the
+street at some members of the crowd that still lingered.
+
+"This town will be a volcano of lawlessness if it doesn't get a square
+deal from you, Lindman," said Trevison. "You have seen what a mob looks
+like. You're the representative of justice here, and if we don't get
+justice we'll come and hang you in spite of a thousand deputies! Remember
+that!"
+
+He stalked out, leaving behind him a white-faced, trembling old man who
+was facing a crisis which made the future look very black and dismal. He
+was wondering if, after all, hanging wouldn't be better than the sunlight
+shining on a deed which each day he regretted more than on the preceding
+day. And Trevison, riding Nigger out of town, was estimating the probable
+effect of his crowd-drawing action upon Judge Lindman, and considering
+bitterly the perfidy of the woman who had cleverly drawn him on, to betray
+him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+ANOTHER LETTER
+
+
+That afternoon, Corrigan rode to the Bar B. The ranchhouse was of the
+better class, big, imposing, well-kept, with a wide, roofed porch running
+across the front and partly around both sides. It stood in a grove of
+fir-balsam and cottonwood, on a slight eminence, and could be seen for
+miles from the undulating trail that led to Manti. Corrigan arrived
+shortly after noon, to find Rosalind gone, for a ride, Agatha told him,
+after she had greeted him at the edge of the porch.
+
+Agatha had not been pleased over Rosalind's rides with Trevison as a
+companion. She was loyal to her brother, and she did not admire the bold
+recklessness that shone so frankly and unmistakably in Trevison's eyes.
+Had she been Rosalind she would have preferred the big, sleek,
+well-groomed man of affairs who had called today. And because of her
+preference for Corrigan, she sat long on the porch with him and told him
+many things--things that darkened the big man's face. And when, as they
+were talking, Rosalind came, Agatha discreetly retired, leaving the two
+alone.
+
+For a time after the coming of Rosalind, Corrigan sat in a big rocking
+chair, looking thoughtfully down the Manti trail, listening to the girl
+talk of the country, picturing her on a distant day--not too distant,
+either, for he meant to press his suit--sitting beside him on the porch of
+another house that he meant to build when he had achieved his goal. These
+thoughts thrilled him as they had never thrilled him until the entrance of
+Trevison into his scheme of things. He had been sure of her then. And now
+the knowledge that he had a rival, filled him with a thousand emotions,
+the most disturbing of which was jealousy. The rage in him was deep and
+malignant as he coupled the mental pictures of his imagination with the
+material record of Rosalind's movements with his rival, as related by
+Agatha. It was not his way to procrastinate; he meant to exert every force
+at his command, quickly, resistlessly, to destroy Trevison, to blacken him
+and damn him, in the eyes of the girl who sat beside him. But he knew that
+in the girl's presence he must be wise and subtle.
+
+"It's a great country, isn't it?" he said, his eyes on the broad reaches
+of plain, green-brown in the shimmering sunlight. "Look at it--almost as
+big as some of the Old-world states! It's a wonderful country. I feel like
+a feudal baron, with the destinies of an important principality in the
+clutch of my hand!"
+
+"Yes; it must give one a feeling of great responsibility to know that one
+has an important part in the development of a section like this."
+
+He laughed, deep in his throat, at the awe in her voice. "I ought to have
+seen its possibilities years ago--I should have been out here, preparing
+for this. But when I bought the land I had no idea it would one day be so
+valuable."
+
+"Bought it?"
+
+"A hundred thousand acres of it. I got it very cheap." He told her about
+the Midland grant and his purchase from Marchmont.
+
+"I never heard of that before!" she told him.
+
+"It wasn't generally known. In fact, it was apparently generally
+considered that the land had been sold by the Midland Company to various
+people--in small parcels. Unscrupulous agents engineered the sales, I
+suppose. But the fact is that I made the purchase from the Midland Company
+years ago--largely as a personal favor to Jim Marchmont, who needed money
+badly. And a great many of the ranch-owners around here really have no
+title to their land, and will have to give it up."
+
+She breathed deeply. "That will be a great disappointment to them, now
+that there exists the probability of a great advance in the value of the
+land."
+
+"That was the owners' lookout. A purchaser should see that his deed is
+clear before closing a deal."
+
+"What owners will be affected?" She spoke with a slight breathlessness.
+
+"Many." He named some of them, leaving Trevison to the last, and then
+watching her furtively out of the corners of his eyes and noting, with
+straightened lips, the quick gasp she gave. She said nothing; she was
+thinking of the great light that had been in Trevison's eyes on the day he
+had told her of his ten years of exile; she could remember his words, they
+had been vivid fixtures in her mind ever since: "I own five thousand
+acres, and about a thousand acres of it is the best coal land in the
+United States. I wouldn't sell it for love or money, for when your father
+gets his railroad running, I'm going to cash in on ten of the leanest and
+hardest and lonesomest years that any man ever put in."
+
+How hard it would be for him to give it all up; to acknowledge defeat, to
+feel those ten wasted years behind him, empty, unproductive; full of
+shattered hopes and dreams changed to nightmares! She sat, white of face,
+gripping the arms of her chair, feeling a great, throbbing sympathy for
+him.
+
+"You will take it all?"
+
+"He will still hold one hundred and sixty acres--the quarter-section
+granted him by the government, which he has undoubtedly proved on."
+
+"Why--" she began, and paused, for to go further would be to inject her
+personal affairs into the conversation.
+
+"Trevison is an evil in the country," he went on, speaking in a judicial
+manner, but watching her narrowly. "It is men like him who retard
+civilization. He opposes law and order--defies them. It is a shock, I
+know, to learn that the title to property that you have regarded as your
+own for years, is in jeopardy. But still, a man can play the man and not
+yield to lawless impulses."
+
+"What has happened?" She spoke breathlessly, for something in Corrigan's
+voice warned her.
+
+"Very little--from Trevison's viewpoint, I suppose," he laughed. "He came
+into my office this morning, after being served with a summons from Judge
+Lindman's court in regard to the title of his land, and tried to kill me.
+Failing in that, he knocked poor, inoffensive little Braman down--who had
+interfered in my behalf--and threw him bodily through the front window of
+the building, glass and all. It's lucky for him that Braman wasn't hurt.
+After that he tried to incite a riot, which Judge Lindman nipped in the
+bud by sending a number of deputies, armed with rifles, to the scene. It
+was a wonderful exhibition of outlawry. I was very sorry to have it
+happen, and any more such outbreaks will result in Trevison's being
+jailed--if not worse."
+
+"My God!" she panted, in a whisper, and became lost in deep thought.
+
+They sat for a time, without speaking. She studied the profile of the man
+and compared its reposeful strength with that of the man who had ridden
+with her many times since her coming to Blakeley's. The turbulent spirit
+of Trevison awed her now, frightened her--she feared for his future. But
+she pitied him; the sympathy that gripped her made icy shivers run over
+her.
+
+"From what I understand, Trevison has always been a disturber," resumed
+Corrigan. "He disgraced himself at college, and afterwards--to such an
+extent that his father cut him off. He hasn't changed, apparently; he is
+still doing the same old tricks. He had some sort of a love affair before
+coming West, your father told me. God help the girl who marries him!"
+
+The girl flushed at the last sentence; she replied to the preceding one:
+
+"Yes. Hester Keyes threw him over, after he broke with his father."
+
+She did not see Corrigan's eyes quicken, for she was wondering if, after
+all, Hester Keyes had not acted wisely in breaking with Trevison.
+Certainly, Hester had been in a position to know him better than some of
+those critics who had found fault with her for her action--herself, for
+instance. She sighed, for the memory of her ideal was dimming. A figure
+that represented violence and bloodshed had come in its place.
+
+"Hester Keyes," said Corrigan, musingly. "Did she marry a fellow named
+Harvey--afterwards? Winslow Harvey, if I remember rightly. He died soon
+after?"
+
+"Yes--do you know her?"
+
+"Slightly." Corrigan laughed. "I knew her father. Well, well. So Trevison
+worshiped there, did he? Was he badly hurt--do you know?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Well," said Corrigan, getting up, and speaking lightly, as though
+dismissing the subject from his mind; "I presume he was--and still is, for
+that matter. A person never forgets the first love." He smiled at her.
+"Won't you go with me for a short ride?"
+
+The ride was taken, but a disturbing question lingered in Rosalind's mind
+throughout, and would not be solved. Had Trevison forgotten Hester Keyes?
+Did he think of her as--as--well, as she, herself, sometimes thought of
+Trevison--as she thought of him now--with a haunting tenderness that made
+his faults recede, as the shadows vanish before the sunshine?
+
+What Corrigan thought was expressed in a satisfied chuckle, as later, he
+loped his horse toward Manti. That night he wrote a letter and sent it
+East. It was addressed to Mrs. Hester Harvey, and was subscribed: "Your
+old friend, Jeff."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A RUMBLE OF WAR
+
+
+The train that carried Corrigan's letter eastward bore, among its few
+other passengers, a young man with a jaw set like a steel trap, who leaned
+forward in his seat, gripping the back of the seat in front of him; an
+eager, smoldering light in his eyes, who rose at each stop the train made
+and glared belligerently and intolerantly at the coach ends, muttering
+guttural anathemas at the necessity for delays. The spirit of battle was
+personified in him; it sat on his squared shoulders; it was in the thrust
+of his chin, stuck out as though to receive blows, which his rippling
+muscles would be eager to return. Two other passengers in the coach
+watched him warily, and once, when he got up and walked to the front of
+the coach, opening the door and looking out, to let in the roar and whir
+and the clatter, one of the passengers remarked to the other: "That guy is
+in a temper where murder would come easy to him."
+
+The train left Manti at nine o'clock in the evening. At midnight it pulled
+up at the little frame station in Dry Bottom and the young man leaped off
+and strode rapidly away into the darkness of the desert town. A little
+later, J. Blackstone Graney, attorney at law, and former Judge of the
+United States District Court at Dry Bottom, heard a loud hammering on the
+door of his residence at the outskirts of town. He got up, with a grunt of
+resentment for all heavy-fisted fools abroad on midnight errands, and went
+downstairs to admit a grim-faced stranger who looked positively
+bloodthirsty to the Judge, under the nervous tension of his midnight
+awakening.
+
+"I'm 'Brand' Trevison, owner of the Diamond K ranch, near Manti," said the
+stranger, with blunt sharpness that made the Judge blink. "I've a case on
+in the Manti court at ten o'clock tomorrow--today," he corrected. "They
+are going to try to swindle me out of my land, and I've got to have a
+lawyer--a real one. I could have got half a dozen in Manti--such as they
+are--but I want somebody who is wise in the law, and with the sort of
+honor that money and power can't blast--I want you!"
+
+Judge Graney looked sharply at his visitor, and smiled. "You are evidently
+desperately harried. Sit down and tell me about your case." He waved to a
+chair and Trevison dropped into it, sitting on its edge. The Judge took
+another, and with the kerosene lamp between them on a table, Trevison
+related what had occurred during the previous morning in Manti. When he
+concluded, the Judge's face was serious.
+
+"If what you say is true, it is a very awkward, not to say suspicious,
+situation. Being the only lawyer in Dry Bottom, until the coming of Judge
+Lindman, I have had occasion many times to consult the record you speak
+of, and if my memory serves me well, I have noted several times--quite
+casually, of course, since I have never been directly concerned with the
+records of the land in your vicinity--that several transfers of title to
+the original Midland grant have been recorded. Your deed would show, of
+course, the date of your purchase from Buck Peters, and we shall, perhaps,
+be able to determine the authenticity of the present record in that
+manner. But if, as you believe, the records have been tampered with, we
+are facing a long, hard legal battle which may or may not result in an
+ultimate victory for us--depending upon the power behind the interests
+opposed to you."
+
+"I'll fight them to the Supreme Court of the United States!" declared
+Trevison. "I'll fight them with the law or without it!"
+
+"I know it," said Graney, with a shrewd glance at the other's grim face.
+"But be careful not to do anything that will jeopardize your liberty. If
+those men are what you think they are, they would be only too glad to have
+you break some law that would give them an excuse to jail you. You
+couldn't do much fighting then, you know." He got up. "There's a train out
+of here in about an hour--we'll take it."
+
+About six o'clock that morning the two men stepped off the train at Manti.
+Graney went directly to a hotel, to wash and breakfast, while Trevison, a
+little tired and hollow-eyed from loss of sleep and excitement, and with a
+two days' growth of beard on his face, which made him look worse than he
+actually felt, sought the livery stable where he had left Nigger the night
+before, mounted the animal and rode rapidly out of town toward the Diamond
+K. He took a trail that led through the cut where on another morning he
+had startled the laborers by riding down the wall--Nigger eating up the
+ground with long, sure, swift strides--passing Pat Carson and his men at a
+point on the level about a quarter of a mile beyond the cut. He waved a
+hand to Carson as he flashed by, and something in his manner caused Carson
+to remark to the engineer of the dinky engine: "Somethin's up wid Trevison
+ag'in, Murph--he's got a domned mean look in his eye. I'm the onluckiest
+son-av-a-gun in the worruld, Murph! First I miss seein' this fire-eater
+bate the face off the big ilephant, Corrigan, an' yisterday I was
+figgerin' on goin' to town--but didn't; an' I miss seein' that little
+whiffet of a Braman flyin' through the windy. Do ye's know that there's a
+feelin' ag'in Corrigan an' the railroad in town, an' thot this mon
+Trevison is the fuse that wud bust the boom av discontint. I'm beginnin'
+to feel a little excited meself. Now what do ye suppose that gang av min
+wid Winchesters was doin', comin' from thot direction this mornin'?" He
+pointed toward the trail that Trevison was riding. "An' that big stiff,
+Corrigan, wid thim!"
+
+Trevison got the answer to this query the minute he reached the Diamond K
+ranchhouse. His foreman came running to him, pale, disgusted, his voice
+snapping like a whip:
+
+"They've busted your desk an' rifled it. Twenty guys who said they was
+deputies from the court in Manti, an' Corrigan. I was here alone,
+watchin', as you told me, but couldn't move a finger--damn 'em!"
+
+Trevison dismounted and ran into the house. The room that he used as an
+office was in a state of disorder. Papers, books, littered the floor. It
+was evident that a thorough search had been made--for something. Trevison
+darted to the desk and ran a hand into the pigeonhole in which he kept the
+deed which he had come for. The hand came out, empty. He sprang to the
+door of a small closet where, in a box that contained some ammunition that
+he kept for the use of his men, he had placed the money that Rosalind
+Benham had brought to him. The money was not there. He walked to the
+center of the room and stood for an instant, surveying the mass of litter
+around him, reeling, rage-drunken, murder in his heart. Barkwell, the
+foreman, watching him, drew great, long breaths of sympathy and
+excitement.
+
+"Shall I get the boys an' go after them damn sneaks?" he questioned, his
+voice tremulous. "We'll clean 'em out--smoke 'em out of the county!" he
+threatened. He started for the door.
+
+"Wait!" Trevison had conquered the first surge of passion; his grin was
+cold and bitter as he crossed glances with his foreman. "Don't do
+anything--yet. I'm going to play the peace string out. If it doesn't work,
+why then--" He tapped his pistol holster significantly.
+
+"You get a few of the boys and stay here with them. It isn't probable that
+they'll try anything like that again, because they've got what they
+wanted. But if they happen to come again, hold them until I come. I'm
+going to court."
+
+Later, in Manti, he was sitting opposite Graney in a room in the hotel to
+which the Judge had gone.
+
+"H'm," said the latter, compressing his lips; "that's sharp practice. They
+are not wasting any time."
+
+"Was it legal?"
+
+"The law is elastic--some judges stretch it more than others. A
+search-warrant and a writ of attachment probably did the business in this
+case. What I can't understand is why Judge Lindman issued the writ at
+all--if he did so. You are the defendant, and you certainly would have
+brought the deed into court as a means of proving your case."
+
+Trevison had mentioned the missing money, though he did not think it
+important to explain where it had come from. And Judge Graney did not ask
+him. But when court opened at the appointed time, with a dignity which was
+a mockery to Trevison, and Judge Graney had explained that he had come to
+represent the defendant in the action, he mildly inquired the reason for
+the forcible entry into his client's house, explaining also that since the
+defendant was required to prove his case it was optional with him whether
+or not the deed be brought into court at all.
+
+Corrigan had been on time; he had nodded curtly to Trevison when he had
+entered to take the chair in which he now sat, and had smiled when
+Trevison had deliberately turned his back. He smiled when Judge Graney
+asked the question--a faint, evanescent smirk. But at Judge Lindman's
+reply he sat staring stolidly, his face an impenetrable mask:
+
+"There was no mention of a deed in the writ of attachment issued by the
+court. Nor has the court any knowledge of the existence of such a deed.
+The officers of the court were commanded to proceed to the defendant's
+house, for the purpose of finding, if possible, and delivering to this
+court the sum of twenty-seven hundred dollars, which amount, representing
+the money paid to the defendant by the railroad company for certain grants
+and privileges, is to remain in possession of the court until the title to
+the land in litigation has been legally awarded."
+
+"But the court officers seized the defendant's deed, also," objected Judge
+Graney.
+
+Judge Lindman questioned a deputy who sat in the rear of the room. The
+latter replied that he had seen no deed. Yes, he admitted, in reply to a
+question of Judge Graney's, it might have been possible that Corrigan had
+been alone in the office for a time.
+
+Graney looked inquiringly at Corrigan. The latter looked steadily back at
+him. "I saw no deed," he said, coolly. "In fact, it wouldn't be _possible_
+for me to see any deed, for Trevison has no title to the property he
+speaks of."
+
+Judge Graney made a gesture of impotence to Trevison, then spoke slowly to
+the court. "I am afraid that without the deed it will be impossible for us
+to proceed. I ask a continuance until a search can be made."
+
+Judge Lindman coughed. "I shall have to refuse the request. The plaintiff
+is anxious to take possession of his property, and as no reason has been
+shown why he should not be permitted to do so, I hereby return judgment in
+his favor. Court is dismissed."
+
+"I give notice of appeal," said Graney.
+
+Outside a little later Judge Graney looked gravely at Trevison. "There's
+knavery here, my boy; there's some sort of influence behind Lindman. Let's
+see some of the other owners who are likely to be affected."
+
+This task took them two days, and resulted in the discovery that no other
+owner had secured a deed to his land. Lefingwell explained the omission.
+
+"A sale is a sale," he said; "or a sale _has_ been a sale until now. Land
+has changed hands out here just the same as we'd trade a horse for a cow
+or a pipe for a jack-knife. There was no questions asked. When a man had a
+piece of land to sell, he sold it, got his money an' didn't bother to give
+a receipt. Half the damn fools in this country wouldn't know a deed from a
+marriage license, an' they haven't been needin' one or the other. For when
+a man has a wife she's continually remindin' him of it, an' he can't
+forget it--he's got her. It's the same with his land--he's got it. So far
+as I know there's never been a deed issued for my land--or any of the land
+in that Midland grant, except Trevison's."
+
+"It looks as though Corrigan had considered that phase of the matter,"
+dryly observed Judge Graney. "The case doesn't look very hopeful. However,
+I shall take it before the Circuit Court of Appeals, in Santa Fe."
+
+He was gone a week, and returned, disgusted, but determined.
+
+"They denied our appeal; said they might have considered it if we had some
+evidence to offer showing that we had some sort of a claim to the title.
+When I told them of my conviction that the records had been tampered with,
+they laughed at me." The Judge's eyes gleamed indignantly. "Sometimes, I
+feel heartily in sympathy with people who rail at the courts--their
+attitude is often positively asinine."
+
+"Perhaps the long arm of power has reached to Santa Fe?" suggested
+Trevison.
+
+"It won't reach to Washington," declared the Judge, decisively. "And if
+you say the word, I'll go there and see what I can do. It's an outrage!"
+
+"I was hoping you'd go--there's no limit," said Trevison. "But as I see
+the situation, everything depends upon the discovery of the original
+record. I'm convinced that it is still in existence, and that Judge
+Lindman knows where it is. I'm going to get it, or--"
+
+"Easy, my friend," cautioned the Judge. "I know how you feel. But you
+can't fight the law with lawlessness. You lie quiet until you hear from
+me. That is all there is to be done, anyway--win or lose."
+
+Trevison clenched his teeth. "I might feel that way about it, if I had
+been as careless of my interests as the other owners here, but I
+safeguarded my interests, trusted them to the regularly recognized law out
+here, and I'm going to fight for them! Why, good God, man; I've worked ten
+years for that land! Do you think I will see it go _without_ a fight?" He
+laughed, and the Judge shook his head at the sound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+A MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION
+
+
+Unheeding the drama that was rapidly and invisibly (except for the
+incident of Braman and the window) working itself out in its midst, Manti
+lunged forward on the path of progress, each day growing larger, busier,
+more noisy and more important. Perhaps Manti did not heed, because Manti
+was itself a drama--the drama of creation. Each resident, each newcomer,
+settled quickly and firmly into the place that desire or ambition or greed
+urged him; put forth whatever energy nature had endowed him with, and
+pushed on toward the goal toward which the town was striving--success;
+collectively winning, unrecking of individual failure or tragedy--those
+things were to be expected, and they fell into the limbo of forgotten
+things, easily and unnoticed. Wrecks, disasters, were certain. They
+came--turmoil engulfed them.
+
+Which is to say that during the two weeks that had elapsed since the
+departure of Judge Graney for Washington, Manti had paid very little
+attention to "Brand" Trevison while he haunted the telegraph station and
+the post-office for news. He was pointed out, it is true, as the man who
+had hurled banker Braman through the window of his bank building; there
+was a hazy understanding that he was having some sort of trouble with
+Corrigan over some land titles, but in the main Manti buzzed along, busy
+with its visions and its troubles, leaving Trevison with his.
+
+The inaction, with the imminence of failure after ten years of effort, had
+its effect on Trevison. It fretted him; he looked years older; he looked
+worried and harassed; he longed for a chance to come to grips in an
+encounter that would ease the strain. Physical action it must be, for his
+brain was a muddle of passion and hatred in which clear thoughts, schemes,
+plans, plots, were swallowed and lost. He wanted to come into physical
+contact with the men and things that were thwarting him; he wanted to feel
+the thud and jar of blows; to catch the hot breath of open antagonism; he
+yearned to feel the strain of muscles--this fighting in the dark with
+courts and laws and lawyers, according to rules and customs, filled him
+with a raging impotence that hurt him. And then, at the end of two weeks
+came a telegram from Judge Graney, saying merely: "Be patient. It's a long
+trail."
+
+Trevison got on Nigger and returned to the Diamond K.
+
+The six o'clock train arrived in Manti that evening with many passengers,
+among whom was a woman of twenty-eight at whom men turned to look the
+second time. Her traveling suit spoke eloquently of that personal quality
+which a language, seeking new and expressive phrases describes as "class."
+It fitted her smoothly, tightly, revealing certain lines of her graceful
+figure that made various citizens of Manti gasp. "Looks like she'd been
+poured into it," remarked an interested lounger. She lingered on the
+station platform until she saw her trunks safely deposited, and then,
+drawing her skirts as though fearful of contamination, she walked,
+self-possessed and cool, through the doorway of the _Castle_
+hotel--Manti's aristocrat of hostelries.
+
+Shortly afterwards she admitted Corrigan to her room. She had changed from
+her traveling suit to a gown of some soft, glossy material that
+accentuated the lines revealed by the discarded habit. The worldly-wise
+would have viewed the lady with a certain expressive smile that might have
+meant much or nothing. And the lady would have looked upon that smile as
+she now looked at Corrigan, with a faint defiance that had quite a little
+daring in it. But in the present case there was an added expression--two,
+in fact--pleasure and expectancy.
+
+"Well--I'm here." She bowed, mockingly, laughingly, compressing her lips
+as she noted the quick fire that flamed in her visitor's eyes.
+
+"That's all over, Jeff; I won't go back to it. If that's why--"
+
+"That's all right," he said, smiling as he took the chair she waved him
+to; "I've erased a page or two from the past, myself. But I can't help
+admiring you; you certainly are looking fine! What have you been doing to
+yourself?"
+
+She draped herself in a chair where she could look straight at him, and
+his compliment made her mouth harden at the corners.
+
+"Well," she said; "in your letter you promised you'd take me into your
+confidence. I'm ready."
+
+"It's purely a business proposition. Each realizes on his effort. You help
+me to get Rosalind Benham through the simple process of fascinating
+Trevison; I help you to get Trevison by getting Miss Benham. It's a sort
+of mutual benefit association, as it were."
+
+"What does Trevison look like, Jeff--tell me?" The woman leaned forward in
+her chair, her eyes glowing.
+
+"Oh, you women!" said Corrigan, with a gesture of disgust. "He's a
+handsome fool," he added; "if that's what you want to know. But I haven't
+any compliments to hand him regarding his manners--he's a wild man!"
+
+"I'd love to see him!" breathed the woman.
+
+"Well, keep your hair on; you'll see him soon enough. But you've got to
+understand this: He's on my land, and he gets off without further
+fighting--if you can hold him. That's understood, eh? You win him back and
+get him away from here. If you double-cross me, he finds out what you
+are!" He flung the words at her, roughly.
+
+She spoke quietly, though color stained her cheeks. "Not 'are,' Jeff--what
+I was. That would be bad enough. But have no fear--I shall do as you ask.
+For I want him--I have wanted him all the time--even during the time I was
+chained to that little beast, Harvey. I wouldn't have been what I
+am--if--if--"
+
+"Cut it out!" he advised brutally; "the man always gets the blame,
+anyway--so it's no novelty to hear that sort of stuff. So you understand,
+eh? You choose your own method--but get results--quick! I want to get that
+damned fool away from here!" He got up and paced back and forth in the
+room. "If he takes Rosalind Benham away from me I'll kill him! I'll kill
+him, anyway!"
+
+"Has it gone very far between them?" The concern in her voice brought a
+harsh laugh from Corrigan.
+
+"Far enough, I guess. He's been riding with her; every day for three
+weeks, her aunt told me. He's a fiery, impetuous devil!"
+
+"Don't worry," she consoled. "And now," she directed; "get out of here.
+I've been on the go for days and days, and I want to sleep. I shall go out
+to see Rosalind tomorrow--to surprise her, Jeff--to surprise her. Ha,
+ha!"
+
+"I'll have a rig here for you at nine o'clock," said Corrigan. "Take your
+trunks--she won't order you away. Tell her that Trevison sent for
+you--don't mention my name; and stick to it! Well, pleasant dreams," he
+added as he went out.
+
+As the door closed the woman stood looking at it, a sneer curving her
+lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+WHEREIN A WOMAN LIES
+
+
+"Aren't you going to welcome me, dearie?"
+
+From the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse Rosalind had watched the rapid
+approach of the buckboard, and she now stood at the edge of the step
+leading to the porch, not more than ten or fifteen feet distant from the
+vehicle, shocked into dumb amazement.
+
+"Why, yes--of course. That is--Why, what on earth brought you out here?"
+
+"A perfectly good train--as far as your awfully crude town of Manti; and
+this--er--spring-legged thing, the rest of the way," laughed Hester
+Harvey. She had stepped down, a trifle flushed, inwardly amused, outwardly
+embarrassed--which was very good acting; but looking very attractive and
+girlish in the simple dress she had donned for the occasion--and for the
+purpose of making a good impression. So attractive was she that the
+contemplation of her brought a sinking sensation to Rosalind that drooped
+her shoulders, and caused her to look around, involuntarily, for something
+to lean upon. For there flashed into her mind at this instant the
+conviction that she had herself to blame for this visitation--she had
+written to Ruth Gresham, and Ruth very likely had disseminated the news,
+after the manner of all secrets, and Hester had heard it. And of course
+the attraction was "Brand" Trevison! A new emotion surged through Rosalind
+at this thought, an emotion so strong that it made her gasp--jealousy!
+
+She got through the ordeal somehow--with an appearance of pleasure--though
+it was hard for her to play the hypocrite! But so soon as she decently
+could, without cutting short the inevitable inconsequential chatter which
+fills the first moments of renewed friendships, she hurried Hester to a
+room and during her absence sat immovable in her chair on the porch
+staring stonily out at the plains.
+
+It was not until half an hour later, when they were sitting on the porch,
+that Hester delivered the stroke that caused Rosalind's hands to fall
+nervelessly into her lap, her lips to quiver and her eyes to fill with a
+reflection of a pain that gripped her hard, somewhere inside. For Hester
+had devised her method, as suggested by Corrigan.
+
+"It may seem odd to you--if you know anything of the manner of my breaking
+off with Trevison Brandon--but he wrote me about a month ago, asking me to
+come out here. I didn't accept the invitation at once--because I didn't
+want him to be too sure, you know, dearie. Men are always presuming and
+pursuing, dearie."
+
+"Then you didn't hear of Trevison's whereabouts from Ruth Gresham?"
+
+"Why, no, dearie! He wrote directly to me."
+
+Rosalind hadn't _that_ to reproach herself with, at any rate!
+
+"Of course, I couldn't go to his ranch--the Diamond K, isn't it?--so,
+noting from one of the newspapers that you had come here, I decided to
+take advantage of _your_ hospitality. I'm just wild to see the dear boy!
+Is his ranch far? For you know," she added, with a malicious look at the
+girl's pale face; "I must not keep him waiting, now that I am here."
+
+"You won't find him prosperous." It hurt Rosalind to say that, but the
+hurt was slightly offset by a savage resentment that gripped her when she
+thought of how quickly Hester had thrown Trevison over when she had
+discovered that he was penniless. And she had a desperate hope that the
+dismal aspect of Trevison's future would appall Hester--as it would were
+the woman still the mercenary creature she had been ten years before. But
+Hester looked at her with grave imperturbability.
+
+"I heard something about his trouble. About some land, isn't it? I didn't
+learn the particulars. Tell me about it--won't you, dearie?"
+
+Rosalind's story of Trevison's difficulties did not have the effect that
+she anticipated.
+
+"The poor, dear boy!" said Hester--and she seemed genuinely moved.
+Rosalind gulped hard over the shattered ruins of this last hope and got
+up, fighting against an inhospitable impulse to order Hester away. She
+made some slight excuse and slipped to her room, where she stayed long,
+elemental passions battling riotously within her.
+
+She realized now how completely she had yielded to the spell that the
+magnetic and impetuous exile had woven about her; she knew now that had he
+pressed her that day when he had told her of his love for her she must
+have surrendered. She thought, darkly, of his fiery manner that day, of
+his burning looks, his hot, impulsive words, of his confidences. Hypocrisy
+all! For while they had been together he must have been thinking of
+sending for Hester! He had been trifling with her! Faith in an ideal is a
+sacred thing, and shattered, it lights the fires of hate and scorn, and
+the emotions that seethed through Rosalind's veins as in her room she
+considered Trevison's unworthiness, finally developed into a furious
+vindictiveness. She wished dire, frightful calamities upon him, and then,
+swiftly reacting, her sympathetical womanliness forced the dark passions
+back, and she threw herself on the bed, sobbing, murmuring: "Forgive me!"
+
+Later, when she had made herself presentable, she went downstairs again,
+concealing her misery behind a steady courtesy and a smile that sometimes
+was a little forced and bitter, to entertain her guest. It was a long,
+tiresome day, made almost unbearable by Hester's small talk. But she got
+through it. And when, rather late in the afternoon, Hester inquired the
+way to the Diamond K, announcing her intention of visiting Trevison
+immediately, she gave no evidence of the shocked surprise that seized her.
+She coolly helped Hester prepare for the trip, and when she drove away in
+the buckboard, stood on the ground at the edge of the porch, watching as
+the buckboard and its occupant faded into the shimmering haze of the
+plains.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+JUSTICE VS. LAW
+
+
+Impatience, intolerable and vicious, gripped Trevison as he rode homeward
+after his haunting vigil at Manti. The law seemed to him to be like a
+house with many doors, around and through which one could play hide and
+seek indefinitely, with no possibility of finding one of the doors locked.
+Judge Graney had warned him to be cautious, but as he rode into the dusk
+of the plains the spirit of rebellion seized him. Twice he halted Nigger
+and wheeled him, facing Manti, already agleam and tumultuous, almost
+yielding to his yearning to return and force his enemy to some sort of
+physical action, but each time he urged the horse on, for he could think
+of no definite plan. He was half way to the Diamond K when he suddenly
+started and sat rigid and erect in the saddle, drawing a deep breath, his
+nerves tingling from excitement. He laughed lowly, exultingly, as men
+laugh when under the stress of adversity they devise sudden, bold plans of
+action, and responding to the slight knee press Nigger turned, reared, and
+then shot like a black bolt across the plains at an angle that would not
+take him anywhere near the Diamond K.
+
+Half an hour later, in a darkness which equaled that of the night on which
+he had carried the limp and drink-saturated Clay Levins to his wife,
+Trevison was dismounting at the door of the gun-man's cabin. A little
+later, standing in the glare of lamplight that shone through the open
+doorway, he was reassuring Mrs. Levins and asking for her husband. Shortly
+afterward, he was talking lowly to Levins as the latter saddled his pony
+out at the stable.
+
+"I'll do it--for you," Levins told him. And then he chuckled. "It'll seem
+like old times."
+
+"It's Justice versus Law, tonight," laughed Trevison; "it's a case of 'the
+end justifying the means.'"
+
+Manti never slept. At two o'clock in the morning the lights in the
+gambling rooms of the _Belmont_ and the _Plaza_ were still flickering
+streams out into the desert night; weak strains of discord were being
+drummed out of a piano in a dance hall; the shuffling of feet smote the
+dead, flat silence of the night with an odd, weird resonance. Here and
+there a light burned in a dwelling or store, or shone through the wall of
+a tent-house. But Manti's one street was deserted--the only peace that
+Manti ever knew, had descended.
+
+Two men who had dismounted at the edge of town had hitched their horses in
+the shadow of a wagon shed in the rear of a store building, and were
+making their way cautiously down the railroad tracks toward the center of
+town. They kept in the shadows of the buildings as much as possible--for
+space was valuable now and many buildings nuzzled the railroad tracks; but
+when once they were forced to pass through a light from a window their
+faces were revealed in it for an instant--set, grim and determined.
+
+"We've got to move quickly," said one of the men as they neared the
+courthouse; "it will be daylight soon. Damn a town that never sleeps!"
+
+The other laughed lowly. "I've said the same thing, often," he whispered.
+"Easy now--here we are!"
+
+They paused in the shadow of the building and whispered together briefly.
+A sound reached their ears as they stood. Peering around the corner
+nearest them they saw the bulk of a man appear. He walked almost to the
+corner of the building where they crouched, and they held their breath,
+tensing their muscles. Just when it seemed they must be discovered, the
+man wheeled, walked away, and vanished into the darkness toward the other
+side of the building. Presently he returned, and repeated the maneuver. As
+he vanished the second time, the larger man of the two in wait, whispered
+to the other:
+
+"He's the sentry! Stand where you are--I'll show Corrigan--"
+
+The words were cut short by the reappearance of the sentry. He came close
+to the corner, and wheeled, to return. A lithe black shape leaped like a
+huge cat, and landed heavily on the sentry's shoulders, bringing a pained
+grunt from him. The grunt died in a gurgle as iron fingers closed on his
+throat; he was jammed, face down, into the dust and held there,
+smothering, until his body slacked and his muscles ceased rippling. Then a
+handkerchief was slipped around his mouth and drawn tightly. He was rolled
+over, still unconscious, his hands tied behind him. Then he was borne away
+into the darkness by the big man, who carried him as though he were a
+child.
+
+"Locked in a box-car," whispered the big man, returning: "They'll get him;
+they're half unloaded."
+
+Without further words they returned to the shadow of the building.
+
+Judge Lindman had not been able to sleep until long after his usual hour
+for retiring. The noise, and certain thoughts, troubled him. It was after
+midnight when he finally sought his cot, and he was in a heavy doze until
+shortly after two, when a breath of air, chilled by its clean sweep over
+the plains, searched him out and brought him up, sitting on the edge of
+the cot, shivering.
+
+The rear door of the courthouse was open. In front of the iron safe at the
+rear of the room he saw a man, faintly but unmistakably outlined in the
+cross light from two windows. He was about to cry out when his throat was
+seized from behind and he was borne back on the cot resistlessly. Held
+thus, a voice which made him strain his eyes in an effort to see the
+owner's face, hissed in his ear:
+
+"I don't want to kill you, but I'll do it if you cry out! I mean business!
+Do you promise not to betray us?"
+
+The Judge wagged his head weakly, and the grip on his throat relaxed. He
+sat up, aware that the fingers were ready to grip his throat again, for he
+could feel the big shape lingering beside him.
+
+"This is an outrage!" he gasped, shuddering. "I know you--you are
+Trevison. I shall have you punished for this."
+
+The other laughed lowly and vibrantly. "That's your affair--if you dare!
+You say a word about this visit and I'll feed your scoundrelly old carcass
+to the coyotes! Justice is abroad tonight and it won't be balked. I'm
+after that original land record--and I'm going to have it. You know where
+it is--you've got it. Your face told me that the other day. You're only
+half-heartedly in this steal. Be a man--give me the record--and I'll stand
+by you until hell freezes over! Quick! Is it in the safe?"
+
+The Judge wavered in agonized indecision. But thoughts of Corrigan's wrath
+finally conquered.
+
+"It--it isn't in the safe," he said. And then, aware of his error because
+of the shrill breath the other drew, he added, quaveringly: "There is
+no--the original record is in my desk--you've seen it."
+
+"Bah!" The big shape backed away--two or three feet, whispering back at
+the Judge. "Open your mouth and you're a dead man. I've got you covered!"
+
+Cowering on his cot the Judge watched the big shape join the other at the
+safe. How long it remained there, he did not know. A step sounded in the
+silence that reigned outside--a third shape loomed in the doorway.
+
+"Judge Lindman!" called a voice.
+
+"Y-es?" quavered the Judge, aware that the big shape in the room was now
+close to him, menacing him.
+
+"Your door's open! Where's Ed? There's something wrong! Get up and strike
+a light. There'll be hell to pay if Corrigan finds out we haven't been
+watching your stuff. Damn it! A man can't steal time for a drink without
+something happens. Jim and Bill and me just went across the street,
+leaving Ed here. They're coming right--"
+
+He had been entering the room while talking, fingering in his pockets for
+a match. His voice died in a quick gasp as Trevison struck with the butt
+of his pistol. The man fell, silently.
+
+Another voice sounded outside. Trevison crouched at the doorway. A form
+darkened the opening. Trevison struck, missed, a streak of fire split the
+night--the newcomer had used his pistol. It went off again--the
+flame-spurt shooting ceilingward, as Levins clinched the man from the
+rear. A third man loomed in the doorway; a fourth appeared, behind him.
+Trevison swung at the head of the man nearest him, driving him back upon
+the man behind, who cursed, plunging into the room. The man whom Levins
+had seized was shouting orders to the others. But these suddenly ceased as
+Levins smashed him on the head with the butt of a pistol. Two others
+remained. They were stubborn and courageous. But it was miserable work, in
+the dark--blows were misdirected, friend striking friend; other blows went
+wild, grunts of rage and impotent curses following. But Trevison and
+Levins were intent on escaping--a victory would have been hollow--for the
+thud and jar of their boots on the bare floor had been heard; doors were
+slamming; from across the street came the barking of a dog; men were
+shouting questions at one another; from the box-car on the railroad tracks
+issued vociferous yells and curses. Trevison slipped out through the door,
+panting. His opponent had gone down, temporarily disabled from sundry
+vicious blows from a fist that had worked like a piston rod. A figure
+loomed at his side. "I got mine!" it said, triumphantly; "we'd better
+slope."
+
+"Another five minutes and I'd have cracked it," breathed Levins as they
+ran. "What's Corrigan havin' the place watched for?"
+
+"You've got me. Afraid of the Judge, maybe. The Judge hasn't his whole
+soul in this deal; it looks to me as though Corrigan is forcing him. But
+the Judge has the original record, all right; and it's in that safe, too!
+God! If they'd only given us a minute or two longer!"
+
+They fled down the track, running heavily, for the work had been fast and
+the tension great, and when they reached the horses and threw themselves
+into the saddles, Manti was ablaze with light. As they raced away in the
+darkness a grim smile wreathed Trevison's face. For though he had not
+succeeded in this enterprise, he had at least struck a blow--and he had
+corroborated his previous opinion concerning Judge Lindman's knowledge of
+the whereabouts of the original record.
+
+It was three o'clock and the dawn was just breaking when Trevison rode
+into the Diamond K corral and pulled the saddle from Nigger. Levins had
+gone home.
+
+Trevison was disappointed. It had been a bold scheme, and well planned,
+and it would have succeeded had it not been for the presence of the
+sentries. He had not anticipated that. He laughed grimly, remembering
+Judge Lindman's fright. Would the Judge reveal the identity of his
+early-morning visitor? Trevison thought not, for if the original record
+were in the safe, and if for any reason the Judge wished to conceal its
+existence from Corrigan, a hint of the identity of the early-morning
+visitors--especially of one--might arouse Corrigan's suspicions.
+
+But what if Corrigan knew of the existence of the original record? There
+was the presence of the guards to indicate that he did. But there was
+Judge Lindman's half-heartedness to disprove that line of reasoning. Also,
+Trevison was convinced that if Corrigan knew of the existence of the
+record he would destroy it; it would be dangerous, in the hands of an
+enemy. But it would be an admirable weapon of self-protection in the hands
+of a man who had been forced into wrong-doing--in the hands of Judge
+Lindman, for instance. Trevison opened the door that led to his office,
+thrilling with a new hope. He lit a match, stepped across the floor and
+touched the flame to the wick of the kerosene lamp--for it was not yet
+light enough for him to see plainly in the office--and stood for an
+instant blinking in its glare. A second later he reeled back against the
+edge of the desk, his hands gripping it, dumb, amazed, physically sick
+with a fear that he had suddenly gone insane. For in a big chair in a
+corner of the room, sleepy-eyed, tired, but looking very becoming in her
+simple dress with a light cloak over it, the collar turned up, so that it
+gave her an appearance of attractive negligence, a smile of delighted
+welcome on her face, was Hester Harvey.
+
+She got up as he stood staring dumfoundedly at her and moved toward him,
+with an air of artful supplication that brought a gasp out of him--of
+sheer relief.
+
+"Won't you welcome me, Trev? I have come very far, to see you." She held
+out her hands and went slowly toward him, mutely pleading, her eyes
+luminous with love--which she did not pretend, for the boy she had known
+had grown into the promise of his youth--big, magnetic--a figure for any
+woman to love.
+
+He had been looking at her intently, narrowly, searchingly. He saw what
+she herself had not seen--the natural changes that ten years had brought
+to her. He saw other things--that she had not suspected--a certain blasé
+sophistication; a too bold and artful expression of the eyes--as though
+she knew their power and the lure of them; the slightly hard curve in the
+corners of her mouth; a second character lurking around her--indefinite,
+vague, repelling--the subconscious self, that no artifice can hide--the
+sin and the shame of deeds unrepented. If there had been a time when he
+had loved her, its potence could not leap the lapse of years and overcome
+his repugnance for her kind, and he looked at her coldly, barring her
+progress with a hand, which caught her two and held them in a grip that
+made her wince.
+
+"What are you doing here? How did you get in? When did you come?" He fired
+the questions at her roughly, brutally.
+
+"Why, Trev." She gulped, her smile fading palely. The conquest was not to
+be the easy one she had thought--though she really wanted him--more than
+ever, now that she saw she was in danger of losing him. She explained,
+earnestly pleading with eyes that had lost their power to charm him.
+
+"I heard you were here--that you were in trouble. I want to help you. I
+got here night before last--to Manti. Rosalind Benham had written about
+you to Ruth Gresham--a friend of hers in New York. Ruth Gresham told me. I
+went directly from Manti to Benham's ranch. Then I came here--about dusk,
+last night. There was a man here--your foreman, he said. I explained, and
+he let me in. Trev--won't you welcome me?"
+
+"It isn't the first time I've been in trouble." His laugh was harsh; it
+made her cringe and cry:
+
+"I've repented for that. I shouldn't have done it; I don't know what was
+the matter with me. Harvey had been telling me things about you--"
+
+"You wouldn't have believed him--" He laughed, cynically. "There's no use
+of haggling over _that_--it's buried, and I've placed a monument over it:
+'Here lies a fool that believed in a woman.' I don't reproach you--you
+couldn't be blamed for not wanting to marry an idiot like me. But I
+haven't changed. I still have my crazy ideas of honor and justice and
+square-dealing, and my double-riveted faith in my ability to triumph over
+all adversity. But women--Bah! you're all alike! You scheme, you plot, you
+play for place; you are selfish, cold; you snivel and whine--There is more
+of it, but I can't think of any more. But--let's face this matter
+squarely. If you still like me, I'm sorry for you, for I can't say that
+the sight of you has stirred any old passion in me. You shouldn't have
+come out here."
+
+"You're terribly resentful, Trev. And I don't blame you a bit--I deserve
+it all. But don't send me away. Why, I--love you, Trev; I've loved you all
+these years; I loved you when I sent you away--while I was married to
+Harvey; and more afterwards--and now, deeper than ever; and--"
+
+He shook his head and looked at her steadily--cynicism, bald derision in
+his gaze. "I'm sorry; but it can't be--you're too late."
+
+He dropped her hands, and she felt of the fingers where he had gripped
+them. She veiled the quick, savage leap in her eyes by drooping the lids.
+
+"You love Rosalind Benham," she said, quietly, looking at him with a
+mirthless smile. He started, and her lips grew a trifle stiff. "You poor
+boy!"
+
+"Why the pity?" he said grimly.
+
+"Because she doesn't care for you, Trev. She told me yesterday that she
+was engaged to marry a man named Corrigan. He is out here, she said. She
+remarked that she had found you very amusing during the three or four
+weeks of Corrigan's absence, and she seemed delighted because the court
+out here had ruled that the land you thought was yours belongs to the man
+who is to be her husband."
+
+He stiffened at this, for it corroborated Corrigan's words: "She is heart
+and soul with me in this deal, She is ambitious." Trevison's lips curled
+scornfully. First, Hester Keyes had been ambitious, and now it was
+Rosalind Benham. He fought off the bitter resentment that filled him and
+raised his head, laughing, glossing over the hurt with savage humor.
+
+"Well, I'm doing some good in the world, after all."
+
+"Trev," Hester moved toward him again, "don't talk like that--it makes me
+shiver. I've been through the fire, boy--we've both been through it. I
+wasted myself on Harvey--you'll do the same with Rosalind Benham. Ten
+years, boy--think of it! I've loved you for that long. Doesn't that make
+you understand--"
+
+"There's nothing quite so dead as a love that a man doesn't want to
+revive," he said shortly; "do you understand that?"
+
+She shuddered and paled, and a long silence came between them. The cold
+dawn that was creeping over the land stole into the office with them and
+found the fires of affection turned to the ashes of unwelcome memory. The
+woman seemed to realize at last, for she gave a little shiver and looked
+up at Trevison with a wan smile.
+
+"I--I think I understand, Trev. Oh, I am _so_ sorry! But I am not going
+away. I am going to stay in Manti, to be near you--if you want me. And you
+will want me, some day." She went close to him. "Won't you kiss me--once,
+Trev? For the sake of old times?"
+
+"You'd better go," he said gruffly, turning his head. And then, as she
+opened the door and stood upon the threshold, he stepped after her,
+saying: "I'll get your horse."
+
+"There's two of them," she laughed tremulously. "I came in a buckboard."
+
+"Two, then," he said soberly as he followed her out. "And say--" He
+turned, flushing. "You came at dusk, last night. I'm afraid I haven't been
+exactly thoughtful. Wait--I'll rustle up something to eat."
+
+"I--I couldn't touch it, thank you. Trev--" She started toward him
+impulsively, but he turned his back grimly and went toward the corral.
+
+Sunrise found Hester back at the Bar B. Jealous, hurt eyes had watched
+from an upstairs window the approach of the buckboard--had watched the
+Diamond K trail the greater part of the night. For, knowing of the absence
+of women at the Diamond K, Rosalind had anticipated Hester's return the
+previous evening--for the distance that separated the two ranches was not
+more than two miles. But the girl's vigil had been unrewarded until now.
+And when at last she saw the buckboard coming, scorn and rage, furious and
+deep, seized her. Ah, it was bold, brazen, disgraceful!
+
+But she forced herself to calmness as she went down stairs to greet her
+guest--for there might have been some excuse for the lapse of
+propriety--some accident--something, anything.
+
+"I expected you last night," she said as she met Hester at the door. "You
+were delayed I presume. Has anything happened?"
+
+"Nothing, dearie." Only the bold significance of Hester's smile hid its
+deliberate maliciousness. "Trev was so glad to see me that he simply
+wouldn't let me go. And it was daylight before we realized it."
+
+The girl gasped. And now, looking at the woman, she saw what Trevison had
+seen--staring back at her, naked and repulsive. She shuddered, and her
+face whitened.
+
+"There are hotels at Manti, Mrs. Harvey," she said coldly.
+
+"Oh, very well!" The woman did not change her smile. "I shall be very glad
+to take advantage of your kind invitation. For Trev tells me that
+presently there will be much bitterness between your crowd and himself,
+and I am certain that he wouldn't want me to stay here. If you will kindly
+have a man bring my trunks--"
+
+And so she rode toward Manti. Not until the varying undulations of the
+land hid her from view of the Bar B ranchhouse did she lose the malicious
+smile. Then it faded, and furious sobs of disappointment shook her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+LAW INVOKED AND DEFIED
+
+
+As soon as the deputies had gone, two of them nursing injured heads, and
+all exhibiting numerous bruises, Judge Lindman rose and dressed. In the
+ghostly light preceding the dawn he went to the safe, his fingers
+trembling so that he made difficult work with the combination. He got a
+record from out of the safe, pulled out the bottom drawer, of a series
+filled with legal documents and miscellaneous articles, laid the record
+book on the floor and shoved the drawer in over it. An hour later he was
+facing Corrigan, who on getting a report of the incident from one of the
+deputies, had hurried to get the Judge's version. The Judge had had time
+to regain his composure, though he was still slightly pale and nervous.
+
+The Judge lied glibly. He had seen no one in the courthouse. His first
+knowledge that anyone had been there had come when he had heard the voice
+of one, of the deputies, calling to him. And then all he had seen was a
+shadowy figure that had leaped and struck. After that there had been some
+shooting. And then the men had escaped.
+
+"No one spoke?"
+
+"Not a word," said the Judge. "That is, of course, no one but the man who
+called to me."
+
+"Did they take anything?"
+
+"What is there to take? There is nothing of value."
+
+"Gieger says one of them was working at the safe. What's in there?"
+
+"Some books and papers and supplies--nothing of value. That they tried to
+get into the safe would seem to indicate that they thought there was money
+there--Manti has many strangers who would not hesitate at robbery."
+
+"They didn't get into the safe, then?"
+
+"I haven't looked inside--nothing seems to be disturbed, as it would were
+the men safe-blowers. In their hurry to get away it would seem, if they
+had come to get into the safe, they would have left something
+behind--tools, or something of that character."
+
+"Let's have a look at the safe. Open it!" Corrigan seemed to be
+suspicious, and with a pulse of trepidation, the Judge knelt and worked
+the combination. When the door came open Corrigan dropped on his knees in
+front of it and began to pull out the contents, scattering them in his
+eagerness. He stood up after a time, scowling, his face flushed. He turned
+on the Judge, grasped him by the shoulders, his fingers gripping so hard
+that the Judge winced.
+
+"Look here, Lindman," he said. "Those men were not ordinary robbers.
+Experienced men would know better than to crack a safe in a courthouse
+when there's a bank right next door. I've an idea that it was some of
+Trevison's work. You've done or said something that's given him the notion
+that you've got the original record. Have you?"
+
+"I swear I have said nothing," declared the Judge.
+
+Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and then released him. "You
+burned it, eh?"
+
+The Judge nodded, and Corrigan compressed his lips. "I suppose it's all
+right, but I can't help wishing that I had been here to watch the ceremony
+of burning that record. I'd feel a damn sight more secure. But understand
+this: If you double-cross me in any detail of this game, you'll never go
+to the penitentiary for what Benham knows about you--I'll choke the
+gizzard out of you!" He took a turn around the room, stopping at last in
+front of the Judge.
+
+"Now we'll talk business. I want you to issue an order permitting me to
+erect mining machinery on Trevison's land. We need coal here."
+
+"Graney gave notice of appeal," protested the Judge.
+
+"Which the Circuit Court denied."
+
+"He'll go to Washington," persisted the Judge, gulping. "I can't legally
+do it."
+
+Corrigan laughed. "Appoint a receiver to operate the mine, pending the
+Supreme Court decision. Appoint Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. There
+is no record or deed."
+
+"There is no need of haste," Lindman cautioned; "you can't get mining
+machinery here for some time yet."
+
+Corrigan laughed, dragging the Judge to a window, from which he pointed
+out some flat-cars standing on a siding, loaded with lumber, machinery,
+corrugated iron, shutes, cables, trucks, "T" rails, and other articles
+that the Judge did not recognize.
+
+The Judge exclaimed in astonishment. Corrigan grunted.
+
+"I ordered that stuff six weeks ago, in anticipation of my victory in your
+court. You can see how I trusted in your honesty and perspicacity. I'll
+have it on the ground tomorrow--some of it today. Of course I want to
+proceed legally, and in order to do that I'll have to have the court order
+this morning. You do whatever is necessary."
+
+At daylight he was in the laborers' camp, skirting the railroad at the
+edge of town, looking for Carson. He found the big Irishman in one of the
+larger tent-houses, talking with the cook, who was preparing breakfast
+amid a smother of smoke and the strong mingled odors of frying bacon and
+coffee. Corrigan went only to the flap of the tent, motioning Carson
+outside.
+
+Walking away from the tent toward some small frame buildings down the
+track, Corrigan said:
+
+"There are several carloads of material there," pointing to the flat-cars
+which he had shown to the Judge. "I've hired a mining man to superintend
+the erection of that stuff--it's mining machinery and material for
+buildings. I want you to place as many of your men as you can spare at the
+disposal of the engineer; his name's Pickand, and you'll find him at the
+cars at eight o'clock. I'll have some more laborers sent over from the
+dam. Give him as many men as he wants; go with him yourself, if he wants
+you."
+
+"What are ye goin' to mine?"
+
+"Coal."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"I've been looking over the land with Pickand; he says we'll sink a shaft
+at the base of the butte below the mesa, where you are laying tracks now.
+We won't have to go far, Pickand says. There's coal--thick veins of
+it--running back into the wall of the butte."
+
+"All right, sir," said Carson. But he scratched his head in perplexity,
+eyeing Corrigan sidelong. "Ye woudn't be sayin' that ye'll be diggin' for
+coal on the railroad's right av way, wud ye?"
+
+"No!" snapped Corrigan.
+
+"Thin it will be on Trevison's land. Have ye bargained wid him for it?"
+
+"No! Look here, Carson. Mind your own business and do as you're told!"
+
+"I'm elicted, I s'pose; but it's a job I ain't admirin' to do. If ye've
+got half the sinse I give ye credit for havin', ye'll be lettin' that mon
+Trevison alone--I'd a lot sooner smoke a segar in that shed av dynamite
+than to cross him!"
+
+Corrigan smiled and turned to look in the direction in which the Irishman
+was pointing. A small, flat-roofed frame building, sheathed with
+corrugated iron, met his view. Crude signs, large enough to be read
+hundreds of feet distant, were affixed to the walls:
+
+                          "CAUTION. DYNAMITE."
+
+"Do you keep much of it there?"
+
+"Enough for anny blastin' we have to do. There's plenty--half a ton,
+mebbe."
+
+"Who's got the key?"
+
+"Meself."
+
+Corrigan returned to town, breakfasted, mounted a horse and rode out to
+the dam, where he gave orders for some laborers to be sent to Carson. At
+nine o'clock he was back in Manti talking with Pickand, and watching the
+dinky engine as it pulled the loaded flat-cars westward over the tracks.
+He left Pickand and went to his office in the bank building, where he
+conferred with some men regarding various buildings and improvements in
+contemplation, and shortly after ten, glancing out of a window, he saw a
+buckboard stop in front of the _Castle_ hotel. Corrigan waited a little,
+then closed his desk and walked across the street. Shortly he confronted
+Hester Harvey in her room. He saw from her downcast manner that she had
+failed. His face darkened.
+
+"Wouldn't work, eh? What did he say?"
+
+The woman was hunched down in her chair, still wearing the cloak that she
+had worn in Trevison's office; the collar still up, the front thrown open.
+Her hair was disheveled; dark lines were under her eyes; she glared at
+Corrigan in an abandon of savage dejection.
+
+"He turned me down--cold." Her laugh held the bitterness of self-derision.
+"I'm through, there, Jeff."
+
+"Hell!" cursed the man. She looked at him, her lips curving with amused
+contempt.
+
+"Oh, you're all right--don't worry. That's all you care about, isn't it?"
+She laughed harshly at the quickened light in his eyes. "You'd see me
+sacrifice myself; you wouldn't give me a word of sympathy. That's you!
+That's the way of all men. Give, give, give! That's the masculine
+chorus--the hunting-song of the human wolf-pack!"
+
+"Don't talk like that--it ain't like you, kid. You were always the gamest
+little dame I ever knew." He essayed to take the hand that was twisted in
+the folds of her cloak, but she drew it away from him in a fury. And the
+eagerness in his eyes betrayed the insincerity of his attempt at
+consolation; she saw it--the naked selfishness of his look--and sneered at
+him.
+
+"You want the good news, eh? The good for you? That's all you care about.
+After you get it, I'll get the husks of your pity. Well, here it is. I've
+poisoned them both--against each other. I told him she was against him in
+this land business. And it hurt me to see how gamely he took it, Jeff!"
+her voice broke, but she choked back the sob and went on, hoarsely: "He
+didn't make a whimper. Not even when I told him you were going to marry
+her--that you were engaged. But there was a fire in those eyes of his that
+I would give my soul to see there for me!"
+
+"Yes--yes," said the man, impatiently.
+
+"Oh, you devil!" she railed at him. "I've made him think it was a frame-up
+between you and her--to get information out of him; I told him that she
+had strung him along for a month or so--amusing herself. And he believes
+it."
+
+"Good!"
+
+"And I've made her believe that he sent for me," she went on, her voice
+leaping to cold savagery. "I stayed all night at his place, and I went
+back to the Bar B in the morning--this morning--and made Rosalind Benham
+think--Ha, ha! She ordered me away from the house--the hussy! She's
+through with him--any fool could tell that. But it's different with him,
+Jeff. He won't give her up; he isn't that kind. He'll fight for her--and
+he'll have her!"
+
+The eager, pleased light died out of Corrigan's face, his lips set in an
+ugly pout. But he contrived to smile as he got up.
+
+"You've done well--so far. But don't give him up. Maybe he'll change his
+mind. Stay here--I'll stake you to the limit." He laid a roll of bills on
+a stand--she did not look at them--and approached her in a second endeavor
+to console her. But she waved him away, saying: "Get out of here--I want
+to think!" And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door.
+
+"Selfish?" he muttered, going down the street. "Well, what of it? That's a
+human weakness, isn't it? Get what you want, and to hell with other
+people!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed rest. He had watched
+Hester Harvey go with no conscious regret, but with a certain grim pity,
+which was as futile as her visit. But, lying on the bed he fought hard
+against the bitter scorn that raged in him over the contemplation of
+Rosalind Benham's duplicity. He found it hard to believe that she had been
+duping him, for during the weeks of his acquaintance with her he had
+studied her much--with admiration-weighted prejudice, of course, since she
+made a strong appeal to him--and he had been certain, then, that she was
+as free from guile as a child--excepting any girl's natural artifices by
+which she concealed certain emotions that men had no business trying to
+read. He had read some of them--his business or not--and he had imagined
+he had seen what had fired his blood--a reciprocal affection. He would not
+have declared himself, otherwise.
+
+He went to sleep, thinking of her. He awoke about noon, to see Barkwell
+standing at his side, shaking him.
+
+"Have you got any understandin' with that railroad gang that they're to do
+any minin' on the Diamond K range?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, they're gettin' ready to do it. Over at the butte near the railroad
+cut. I passed there a while ago an' quizzed the big guy--Corrigan--about a
+gang workin' there. He says they're goin' to mine coal. I asked him if he
+had your permission an' he said he didn't need it. I reckon they ain't
+none shy on gall where that guy come from!"
+
+Trevison got out of bed and buckled on his cartridge belt and pistol. "The
+boys are working the Willow Creek range," he said, sharply. "Get them,
+tell them to load up with plenty of cartridges, and join me at the
+butte."
+
+He heard Barkwell go leaping down the stairs, his spurs striking the step
+edges, and a few minutes later, riding Nigger out of the corral he saw the
+foreman racing away in a dust cloud. He followed the bed of the river,
+himself, going at a slow lope, for he wanted time to think--to gain
+control of the rage that boiled in his veins. He conquered it, and when he
+came in sight of the butte he was cool and deliberate, though on his face
+was that "mean" look that Carson had once remarked about to his friend
+Murphy, partly hidden by the "tiger" smile which, the Irishman had
+discovered, preceded action, ruthless and swift.
+
+The level below the butte was a-buzz with life and energy. Scores of
+laborers were rushing about under the direction of a tall, thin,
+bespectacled man who seemed to be the moving spirit in all the activity.
+He shouted orders to Carson--Trevison saw the big figure of the Irishman
+dominating the laborers--who repeated them, added to them; sending men
+scampering hither and thither. Pausing at a little distance down the
+level, Trevison watched the scene. At first all seemed confusion, but
+presently he was able to discern that method ruled. For he now observed
+that the laborers were divided into "gangs." Some were unloading the
+flat-cars, others were "assembling" a stationary engine near the wall of
+the butte. They had a roof over it, already. Others were laying tracks
+that intersected with the main line; still others were erecting buildings
+along the level. They were on Trevison's land--there was no doubt of that.
+Moreover, they were erecting their buildings and apparatus at the point
+where Trevison himself had contemplated making a start. He saw Corrigan
+seated on a box on one of the flat-cars, smoking a cigar; another man,
+whom Trevison recognized as Gieger--he would have been willing to swear
+the man was one of those who had thwarted his plans in the
+courthouse--standing beside him, a Winchester rifle resting in the hollow
+of his left arm. Trevison urged Nigger along the level, down the track,
+and halted near Corrigan and Gieger. He knew that Corrigan had seen him,
+but it pleased the other to pretend that he had not.
+
+"This is your work, Corrigan--I take it?" said Trevison, bluntly.
+
+Corrigan turned slowly. He was a good actor, for he succeeded in getting a
+fairly convincing counterfeit of surprise into his face as his gaze fell
+on his enemy.
+
+"You have taken it correctly, sir." He smiled blandly, though there was a
+snapping alertness in his eyes that belied his apparent calmness. He
+turned to Gieger, ignoring Trevison. "Organization is the thing. Pickand
+is a genius at it," he said.
+
+Trevison's eyes flamed with rage over this deliberate insult. But in it he
+saw a cold design to make him lose his temper. The knowledge brought a
+twisting smile to his face.
+
+"You have permission to begin this work, I suppose?"
+
+Corrigan turned again, as though astonished at the persistence of the
+other. "Certainly, sir. This work is being done under a court order,
+issued this morning. I applied for it yesterday. I am well within my legal
+rights, the court having as you are aware, settled the question of the
+title."
+
+"You know I have appealed the case?"
+
+"I have not been informed that you have done so. In any event such an
+appeal would not prevent me mining the coal on the property, pending the
+hearing of the case in the higher court. Judge Lindman has appointed a
+receiver, who is bonded; and the work is to proceed under his direction. I
+am here merely as an onlooker."
+
+He looked fairly at Trevison, his eyes gleaming with cold derision. The
+expression maddened the other beyond endurance, and his eyes danced the
+chill glitter of meditated violence, unrecking consequences.
+
+"You're a sneaking crook, Corrigan, and you know it! You're going too far!
+You've had Braman appointed in order to escape the responsibility! You're
+hiding behind him like a coward! Come out into the open and fight like a
+man!"
+
+Corrigan's face bloated poisonously, but he made no hostile move. "I'll
+kill you for that some day!" he whispered. "Not now," he laughed
+mirthlessly as the other stiffened; "I can't take the risk right now--I've
+too much depending on me. But you've been damned impertinent and
+troublesome, and when I get you where I want you I'm going to serve you
+like this!" And he took the cigar from his mouth, dropped it to the floor
+of the car and ground it to pieces under his heel. He looked up again, at
+Trevison, and their gaze met, in each man's eyes glowed the knowledge of
+imminent action, ruthless and terrible.
+
+Trevison broke the tension with a laugh that came from between his teeth.
+"Why delay?" he mocked. "I've been ready for the grinding process since
+the first day."
+
+"Enough of this!" Corrigan turned to Gieger with a glance of cold
+intolerance. "This man is a nuisance," he said to the deputy. "Carry out
+the mandate of the court and order him away. If he doesn't go, kill him!
+He is a trespasser, and has no right here!" And he glared at Trevison.
+
+"You've got to get out, mister," said the deputy. He tapped his rifle
+menacingly, betraying a quick accession of rage that he caught, no doubt,
+from Corrigan. Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little. For an
+instant he meditated resistance, and dropped his right hand to the butt of
+his pistol. A shout distracted his attention. It came from behind him--it
+sounded like a warning, and he wheeled, to see Carson running toward him,
+not more than ten feet distant, waving his hands, a huge smile on his
+face.
+
+"Domned if it ain't Trevison!" he yelled as he lunged forward and caught
+Trevison's right hand in his own, pulling the rider toward him. "I've been
+wantin' to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now--about thim cows which me
+brother in Illinoy has been askin' me about, an' divvil a chance have I
+had to see ye!" And as he yanked Trevison's shoulders downward with a
+sudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered, rapidly.
+
+"Diputies--thirty av thim wid Winchesters--on the other side av the
+flat-cars. It's a thrap to do away wid ye--I heard 'em cookin' it!"
+
+"An' ye wudn't be sellin' 'em to me at twinty-five, eh?" he said, aloud.
+"Go 'long wid ye--ye're a domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!"
+And he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and laughed gleefully
+as the animal lunged at him, ears laid back, mouth open.
+
+His eyes cold, his lips hard and straight, Trevison spurred the black
+again to the flat-car.
+
+"The bars are down between us, Corrigan; it's man to man from now on. Law
+or no law, I give you twenty-four hours to get your men and apparatus off
+my land. After that I won't be responsible for what happens!" He heard a
+shout behind him, a clatter, and he turned to see ten or twelve of his men
+racing over the level toward him. At the same instant he heard a sharp
+exclamation from Corrigan; heard Gieger issue a sharp order, and a line of
+men raised their heads above the flat-cars, rifles in their hands, which
+they trained on the advancing cowboys.
+
+Nigger leaped; his rider holding up one hand, the palm toward his men, as
+a sign to halt, while he charged into them. Trevison talked fast to them,
+while the laborers, suspending work, watched, muttering; and the rifles,
+resting on the flat-cars, grew steadier in their owners' hands. The
+silence grew deeper; the tension was so great that when somewhere a man
+dropped a shovel, it startled the watchers like a sudden bomb.
+
+It was plain that Trevison's men wanted to fight. It was equally plain
+that Trevison was arguing to dissuade them. And when, muttering, and
+casting belligerent looks backward, they finally drew off, Trevison
+following, there was a sigh of relief from the watchers, while Corrigan's
+face was black with disappointment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A WOMAN RIDES IN VAIN
+
+
+Out of Rosalind Benham's resentment against Trevison for the Hester Harvey
+incident grew a sudden dull apathy--which presently threatened to become
+an aversion--for the West. Its crudeness, the uncouthness of its people;
+the emptiness, the monotony, began to oppress her. Noticing the waning of
+her enthusiasm, Agatha began to inject energetic condemnations of the
+country into her conversations with the girl, and to hint broadly of the
+contrasting allurements of the East.
+
+But Rosalind was not yet ready to desert the Bar B. She had been hurt, and
+her interest in the country had dulled, but there were memories over which
+one might meditate until--until one could be certain of some things. This
+was hope, insistently demanding delay of judgment. The girl could not
+forget the sincere ring in Trevison's voice when he had told her that he
+would never go back to Hester Harvey. Arrayed against this declaration was
+the cold fact of Hester's visit, and Hester's statement that Trevison had
+sent for her. In this jumble of contradiction hope found a fertile field.
+
+If Corrigan had anticipated that the knowledge of Hester's visit to
+Trevison would have the effect of centering Rosalind's interest on him, he
+had erred. Corrigan was magnetic; the girl felt the lure of him. In his
+presence she was continually conscious of his masterfulness, with a
+dismayed fear that she would yield to it. She knew this sensation was not
+love, for it lacked the fire and the depth of the haunting, breathless
+surge of passion that she had felt when she had held Trevison off the day
+when he had declared his love for her--that she felt whenever she thought
+of him. But with Trevison lost to her--she did not know what would happen,
+then. For the present her resentment was sufficient to keep her mind
+occupied.
+
+She had a dread of meeting Corrigan this morning. Also, Agatha's continued
+deprecatory speeches had begun to annoy her, and at ten o'clock she
+ordered one of the men to saddle her horse.
+
+She rode southward, following a trail that brought her to Levins' cabin.
+The cabin was built of logs, smoothly hewn and tightly joined, situated at
+the edge of some timber in a picturesque spot at a point where a shallow
+creek doubled in its sweep toward some broken country west of Manti.
+
+Rosalind had visited Mrs. Levins many times. The warmth of her welcome on
+her first visit had resulted in a quick intimacy which, with an immediate
+estimate of certain needs by Rosalind, had brought her back in the rôle of
+Lady Bountiful. "Chuck" and "Sissy" Levins welcomed her vociferously as
+she splashed across the river to the door of the cabin this morning.
+
+"You're clean spoilin' them, Miss Rosalind!" declared the mother, watching
+from the doorway; "they've got so they expect you to bring them a present
+every time you come."
+
+Sundry pats and kisses sufficed to assuage the pangs of disappointment
+suffered by the children, and shortly afterward Rosalind was inside the
+cabin, talking with Mrs. Levins, and watching Clay, who was painstakingly
+mending a breach in his cartridge belt.
+
+Rosalind had seen Clay once only, and that at a distance, and she stole
+interested glances at him. There was a certain attraction in Clay's lean
+face, with its cold, alert furtiveness, but it was an attraction that bred
+chill instead of warmth, for his face revealed a wild, reckless,
+intolerant spirit, remorseless, contemptuous of law and order. Several
+times she caught him watching her, and his narrowed, probing glances
+disconcerted her. She cut her visit short because of his presence, and
+when she rose to go he turned in his chair.
+
+"You like this country, ma'am?"
+
+"Well--yes. But it is much different, after the East."
+
+"Some smoother there, eh? Folks are slicker?"
+
+She eyed him appraisingly, for there was an undercurrent of significance
+in his voice. She smiled. "Well--I suppose so. You see, competition is
+keener in the East, and it rather sharpens one's wits, I presume."
+
+"H'm. I reckon you're right. This railroad has brought some _mighty_ slick
+ones here. Mighty slick an' gally." He looked at her truculently.
+"Corrigan's one of the slick ones. Friend of yours, eh?"
+
+"Clay!" remonstrated his wife, sharply.
+
+He turned on her roughly. "You keep out of this! I ain't meanin' nothin'
+wrong. But I reckon when anyone's got a sneakin' coyote for a friend an'
+don't know it, it's doin' 'em a good turn to spit things right out, frank
+an' fair.
+
+"This Corrigan ain't on the level, ma'am. Do you know what he's doin'?
+He's skinnin' the folks in this country out of about a hundred thousand
+acres of land. He's clouded every damn title. He's got a fake bill of sale
+to show that he bought the land years ago--which he didn't--an' he's got a
+little beast of a judge here to back him up in his play. They've done away
+with the original record of the land, an' rigged up another, which makes
+Corrigan's title clear. It's the rankest robbery that any man ever tried
+to pull off, an' if he's a friend of yourn you ought to cut him off your
+visitin' list!"
+
+"How do you know that? Who told you?" asked the girl, her face whitening,
+for the man's vehemence and evident earnestness were convincing.
+
+"'Brand' Trevison told me. It hits him mighty damned hard. He had a deed
+to his land. Corrigan broke open his office an' stole it. Trevison's
+certain sure his deed was on the record, for he went to Dry Bottom with
+Buck Peters--the man he bought the land from--an' seen it wrote down on
+the record!" He laughed harshly. "There's goin' to be hell to pay here.
+Trevison won't stand for it--though the other gillies are advisin'
+caution. Caution hell! I'm for cleanin' the scum out! Do you know what
+Corrigan done, yesterday? He got thirty or so deputies--pluguglies that
+he's hired--an' hid 'em behind some flat-cars down on the level where
+they're erectin' some minin' machinery. He laid a trap for 'Firebrand,'
+expectin' him to come down there, rippin' mad because they was puttin' the
+minin' machinery up on his land, wi'out his permission. They was goin' to
+shoot him--Corrigan put 'em up to it. That Carson fello' heard it an' put
+'Firebrand' wise. An' the shootin' didn't come off. But that's only the
+beginnin'!"
+
+"Did Trevison tell you to tell me this?" The girl was stunned, amazed,
+incredulous. For her father was concerned in this, and if he had any
+knowledge that Corrigan was stealing land--if he _was_ stealing it--he was
+guilty as Corrigan. If he had no knowledge of it, she might be able to
+prevent the steal by communicating with him.
+
+"Trevison tell me?" laughed Levins, scornfully; "'Firebrand' ain't no
+pussy-kitten fighter which depends on women standin' between him an'
+trouble. I'm tellin' you on my own hook, so's that big stiff Corrigan
+won't get swelled up, thinkin' he's got a chance to hitch up with you in
+the matrimonial wagon. That guy's got murder in his heart, girl. Did you
+hear of me shootin' that sneak, Marchmont?" The girl had heard rumors of
+the affair; she nodded, and Levins went on. "It was Corrigan that hired me
+to do it--payin' me a thousand, cash." His wife gasped, and he spoke
+gently to her. "That's all right, Ma; it wasn't no cold-blooded
+affair--Jim Marchmont knowed a sister of mine pretty intimate, when he was
+out here years ago, an' I settled a debt that I thought I owed to her,
+that's all. I ain't none sorry, neither--I knowed him soon as Corrigan
+mentioned his name. But I hadn't no time to call his attention to
+things--I had to plug him, sudden. I'm sorry I've said this, ma'am, now
+that it's out," he said in a changed voice, noting the girl's distress;
+"but I felt you ought to know who you're dealin' with."
+
+Rosalind went out, swaying, her knees shaking. She heard Levins' wife
+reproving him; heard the man replying gruffly. She felt that it _must_ be
+so. She cared nothing about Corrigan, beyond a certain regret, but a wave
+of sickening fear swept over her at the growing conviction that her father
+_must_ know something of all this. And if, as Levins said, Corrigan was
+attempting to defraud these people, she felt that common justice required
+that she head him off, if possible. By defeating Corrigan's aim she would,
+of course, be aiding Trevison, and through him Hester Harvey, whom she had
+grown to despise, but that hatred should not deter her. She mounted her
+horse in a fever of anxiety and raced it over the plains toward Manti,
+determined to find Corrigan and force him to tell her the truth.
+
+Half way to town she saw a rider coming, and she slowed her own horse,
+taking the rider to be Corrigan, coming to the Bar B. She saw her mistake
+when the rider was within a hundred feet of her. She blushed, then paled,
+and started to pass the rider without speaking, for it was Trevison. She
+looked up when he urged Nigger against her animal, blocking the trail,
+frowning.
+
+"Look here," he said; "what's wrong? Why do you avoid me? I saw you on the
+Diamond K range the other day, and when I started to ride toward you you
+whipped up your horse. You tried to pass me just now. What have I done to
+deserve it?"
+
+She could not tell him about Hester Harvey, of course, and so she was
+silent, blushing a little. He took her manner as an indication of guilt,
+and gritted his teeth with the pain that the discovery caused him, for he
+had been hoping, too--that his suspicions of her were groundless.
+
+"I do not care to discuss the matter with you." She looked fairly at him,
+her resentment flaming in her eyes, fiercely indignant over his effrontery
+in addressing her in that manner, after his affair with Hester Harvey. She
+was going to help him, but that did not mean that she was going to blind
+herself to his faults, or to accept them mutely. His bold confidence in
+himself--which she had once admired--repelled her now; she saw in it the
+brazen egotism of the gross sensualist, seeking new victims.
+
+"I am in a hurry," she said, stiffly; "you will pardon me if I proceed."
+
+He jumped Nigger off the trail and watched with gloomy, disappointed eyes,
+her rapid progress toward Manti. Then he urged Nigger onward, toward
+Levins' cabin. "I'll have to erect another monument to my faith in women,"
+he muttered. And certain reckless, grim thoughts that had rioted in his
+mind since the day before, now assumed a definiteness that made his blood
+leap with eagerness.
+
+Later, when Rosalind sat opposite Corrigan at his desk, she found it hard
+to believe Levins' story. The big man's smooth plausibility made Levins'
+recital seem like the weird imaginings of a disordered mind, goaded to
+desperation by opposition. And again, his magnetism, his polite
+consideration for her feelings, his ingenuous, smiling deference--so
+sharply contrasted with Trevison's direct bluntness--swayed her, and she
+sat, perplexed, undecided, when he finished the explanation she had coldly
+demanded of him.
+
+"It is the invariable defense of these squatters," he added; "that they
+are being robbed. In this case they have embellished their hackneyed tale
+somewhat by dragging the court into it, and telling you that absurd story
+about the shooting of Marchmont. Could you tell me what possible interest
+I could have in wanting Marchmont killed? Don't you think, Miss Rosalind,
+that Levins' reference to his sister discloses the real reason for the
+man's action? Levins' story that I paid him a thousand dollars is a
+fabrication, pure and simple. I paid Jim Marchmont a thousand dollars that
+morning, which was the balance due him on our contract. The transaction
+was witnessed by Judge Lindman. After Marchmont was shot, Levins took the
+money from him."
+
+"Why wasn't Levins arrested?"
+
+"It seems that public opinion was with Levins. A great many people here
+knew of the ancient trouble between them." He passed from that, quickly.
+"The tale of the robbery of Trevison's office is childlike, for the reason
+that Trevison had no deed. Judge Lindman is an honored and respected
+official. And--" he added as a last argument "--your father is the
+respected head of a large and important railroad. Is it logical to suppose
+that he would lend his influence and his good name to any such ridiculous
+scheme?"
+
+She sighed, almost convinced. Corrigan went on, earnestly:
+
+"This man Trevison is a disturber--he has always been that. He has no
+respect for the law or property. He associates with the self-confessed
+murderer, Levins. He is a riotous, reckless, egotistical fool who, because
+the law stands in the way of his desires, wishes to trample it under foot
+and allow mob rule to take its place. Do you remember you mentioned that
+he once loved a woman named Hester Keyes? Well, he has brought Hester
+here--"
+
+She got up, her chin at a scornful angle. "I do not care to hear about his
+personal affairs." She went out, mounted her horse, and rode slowly out
+the Bar B trail. From a window Corrigan watched her, and as she vanished
+into the distance he turned back to his desk, meditating darkly.
+
+"Trevison put Levins up to that. He's showing yellow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+AND RIDES AGAIN--IN VAIN
+
+
+Rosalind's reflections as she rode toward the Bar B convinced her that
+there had been much truth in Corrigan's arraignment of Trevison. Out of
+her own knowledge of him, and from his own admission to her on the day
+they had ridden to Blakeley's the first time, she adduced evidence of his
+predilection for fighting, of his utter disregard for accepted
+authority--when that authority disagreed with his conception of justice;
+of his lawlessness when his desires were in question. His impetuosity was
+notorious, for it had earned him the sobriquet "Firebrand," which he could
+not have acquired except through the exhibition of those traits that she
+had enumerated.
+
+She was disappointed and spiritless when she reached the ranchhouse, and
+very tired, physically. Agatha's questions irritated her, and she ate
+sparingly of the food set before her, eager to be alone. In the isolation
+of her room she lay dumbly on the bed, and there the absurdity of Levins'
+story assailed her. It must be as Corrigan had said--her father was too
+great a man to descend to such despicable methods. She dropped off to
+sleep.
+
+When she awoke the sun had gone down, and her room was cheerless in the
+semi-dusk. She got up, washed, combed her hair, and much refreshed, went
+downstairs and ate heartily, Agatha watching her narrowly.
+
+"You are distraught, my dear," ventured her relative. "I don't think this
+country agrees with you. Has anything happened?"
+
+The girl answered evasively, whereat Agatha compressed her lips.
+
+"Don't you think that a trip East--"
+
+"I shall not go home this summer!" declared Rosalind, vehemently. And
+noting the flash in the girl's eyes, belligerent and defiant; her swelling
+breast, the warning brilliance of her eyes, misty with pent-up emotion,
+Agatha wisely subsided and the meal was finished in a strained silence.
+
+Later, Rosalind went out, alone, upon the porch where, huddled in a big
+rocker, she gazed gloomily at the lights of Manti, dim and distant.
+Something of the turmoil and the tumult of the town in its young strength
+and vigor, assailed her, contrasting sharply with the solemn peace of her
+own surroundings. Life had been a very materialistic problem to her,
+heretofore. She had lived it according to her environment, a mere
+onlooker, detached from the scheme of things. Something of the meaning of
+life trickled into her consciousness as she sat there watching the
+flickering lights of the town--something of the meaning of it all--the
+struggle of these new residents twanged a hidden chord of sympathy and
+understanding in her. She was able to visualize them as she sat there.
+Faces flashed before her--strong, stern, eager; the owner of each a-thrill
+with his ambition, going forward in the march of progress with definite
+aim, planning, plotting, scheming--some of them winning, others losing,
+but all obsessed with a feverish desire of success. The railroad, the
+town, the ranches, the new dam, the people--all were elements of a
+conflict, waged ceaselessly. She sat erect, her blood tingling. Blows were
+being struck, taken.
+
+"Oh," she cried, sharply; "it's a game! It's the spirit of the nation--to
+fight, to press onward, to win!" And in that moment she was seized with a
+throbbing sympathy for Trevison, and filled with a yearning that he might
+win, in spite of Corrigan, Hester Harvey, and all the others--even her
+father. For he was a courageous player of this "game." In him was typified
+the spirit of the nation.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rosalind might have added something to her thoughts had she known of the
+passions that filled Trevison when, while she sat on the porch of the Bar
+B ranchhouse, he mounted Nigger and sent him scurrying through the mellow
+moonlight toward Manti. He was playing the "game," with justice as his
+goal. The girl had caught something of the spirit of it all, but she had
+neglected to grasp the all-important element of the relations between men,
+without which laws, rules, and customs become farcical and ridiculous. He
+was determined to have justice. He knew well that Judge Graney's mission
+to Washington would result in failure unless the deed to his property
+could be recovered, or the original record disclosed. Even then, with a
+weak and dishonest judge on the bench the issue might be muddled by a mass
+of legal technicalities. The court order permitting Braman to operate a
+mine on his property goaded him to fury.
+
+He stopped at Hanrahan's saloon, finding Lefingwell there and talking with
+him for a few minutes. Lefingwell's docile attitude disgusted him--he said
+he had talked the matter over with a number of the other owners, and they
+had expressed themselves as being in favor of awaiting the result of his
+appeal. He left Lefingwell, not trusting himself to argue the question of
+the man's attitude, and went down to the station, where he found a
+telegram awaiting him. It was from Judge Graney:
+
+  Coming home. Case sent back to Circuit Court for hearing. Depend on
+  you to get evidence.
+
+Trevison crumpled the paper and shoved it savagely into a pocket. He stood
+for a long time on the station platform, in the dark, glowering at the
+lights of the town, then started abruptly and made his way into the
+gambling room of the _Plaza_, where he somberly watched the players. The
+rattle of chips, the whir of the wheel, the monotonous drone of the faro
+dealer, the hum of voices, some eager, some tense, others exultant or
+grumbling, the incessant jostling, irritated him. He went out the front
+door, stepped down into the street, and walked eastward. Passing an open
+space between two buildings he became aware of the figure of a woman, and
+he wheeled as she stepped forward and grasped his arm. He recognized her
+and tried to pass on, but she clung to him.
+
+"Trev!" she said, appealingly; "I want to talk with you. It's very
+important--really. Just a minute, Trev. Won't you talk _that_ long! Come
+to my room--where--"
+
+"Talk fast," he admonished, holding her off,"--and talk here."
+
+She struggled with him, trying to come closer, twisting so that her body
+struck his, and the contact brought a grim laugh out of him. He seized her
+by the shoulders and held her at arm's length. "Talk from there--it's
+safer. Now, if you've anything important--"
+
+"O Trev--please--" She laughed, almost sobbing, but forced the tears back
+when she saw derision blazing in his eyes.
+
+"I told you it was all over!" He pushed her away and started off, but he
+had taken only two steps when she was at his side again.
+
+"I saw you from my window, Trev. I--I knew it was you--I couldn't mistake
+you, anywhere. I followed you--saw you go into the _Plaza_. I came to warn
+you. Corrigan has planned to goad you into doing some rash thing so that
+he will have an excuse to jail or kill you!"
+
+"Where did you hear that?"
+
+"I--I just heard it. I was in the bank today, and I overheard him talking
+to a man--some officer, I think. Be careful, Trev--very careful, won't
+you?"
+
+"Careful as I can," he laughed, lowly. "Thank you." He started on again,
+and she grasped his arm. "Trev," she pleaded.
+
+"What's the use, Hester?" he said; "it can't be."
+
+"Well, God bless you, anyway, dear," she said chokingly.
+
+He passed on, leaving her in the shadows of the buildings, and walked far
+out on the plains. Making a circuit to avoid meeting the woman again, he
+skirted the back yards, stumbling over tin cans and debris in his
+progress. When he got to the shed where he had hitched Nigger he mounted
+and rode down the railroad tracks toward the cut, where an hour later he
+was joined by Clay Levins, who came toward him, riding slowly and
+cautiously.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Patrick Carson had wooed sleep unsuccessfully. For hours he lay on his cot
+in the tent, staring out through the flap at the stars. A vague unrest had
+seized him. He heard the hilarious din of Manti steadily decrease in
+volume until only intermittent noises reached his ears. But even when
+comparative peace came he was still wide awake.
+
+"I'll be gettin' the willies av I lay here much longer widout slape," he
+confided to his pillow. "Mebbe a turn down the track wid me dujeen wud do
+the thrick." He got up, lighted his pipe and strode off into the
+semi-gloom of the railroad track. He went aimlessly, paying little
+attention to objects around him. He passed the tents wherein the laborers
+lay--and smiled as heavy snores smote his ears. "They slape a heap harder
+than they worruk, bedad!" he observed, grinning. "Nothin' c'ud trouble a
+ginney's conscience, annyway," he scoffed. "But, accordin' to that they
+must be a heap on me own!" Which observation sent his thoughts to
+Corrigan. "Begob, there's a man! A domned rogue, if iver they was one!"
+
+He passed the tents, smoking thoughtfully. He paused when he came to the
+small buildings scattered about at quite a distance from the tents, then
+left the tracks and made his way through the deep alkali dust toward
+them.
+
+"Whativer wud Corrigan be askin' about the dynamite for? 'How much do ye
+kape av it?' he was askin'. As if it was anny av his business!"
+
+He stopped puffing at his pipe and stood rigid, watching with bulging
+eyes, for he saw the door of the dynamite shed move outward several
+inches, as though someone inside had shoved it. It closed again, slowly,
+and Carson was convinced that he had been seen. He was no coward, but a
+cold sweat broke out on him and his knees doubled weakly. For any man who
+would visit the dynamite shed around midnight, in this stealthy manner,
+must be in a desperate frame of mind, and Carson's virile imagination drew
+lurid pictures of a gun duel in which a stray shot penetrated the wall of
+the shed. He shivered at the roar of the explosion that followed; he even
+drew a gruesome picture of stretchers and mangled flesh that brought a
+groan out of him.
+
+But in spite of his mental stress he lunged forward, boldly, though his
+breath wheezed from his lungs in great gasps. His body lagged, but his
+will was indomitable, once he quit looking at the pictures of his
+imagination. He was at the door of the shed in a dozen strides.
+
+The lock had been forced; the hasp was hanging, suspended from a twisted
+staple. Carson had no pistol--it would have been useless, anyway.
+
+Carson hesitated, vacillating between two courses. Should he return for
+help, or should he secrete himself somewhere and watch? The utter
+foolhardiness of attempting the capture of the prowler single handed
+assailed him, and he decided on retreat. He took one step, and then stood
+rigid in his tracks, for a voice filtered thinly through the doorway,
+hoarse, vibrant:
+
+"Don't forget the fuses."
+
+Carson's lips formed the word: "Trevison!"
+
+Carson's breath came easier; his thoughts became more coherent, his
+recollection vivid; his sympathies leaped like living things. When his
+thoughts dwelt upon the scene at the butte during Trevison's visit while
+the mining machinery was being erected--the trap that Corrigan had
+prepared for the man--a grim smile wreathed his face, for he strongly
+suspected what was meant by Trevison's visit to the dynamite shed.
+
+He slipped cautiously around a corner of the shed, making no sound in the
+deep dust surrounding it, and stole back the way he had come, tingling.
+
+"Begob, I'll slape now--a little while!"
+
+As Carson vanished down the tracks a head was stuck out through the
+doorway of the shed and turned so that its owner could scan his
+surroundings.
+
+"All clear," he whispered.
+
+"Get going, then," said another voice, and two men, their faces muffled
+with handkerchiefs, bearing something that bulked their pockets oddly,
+slipped out of the door and fled noiselessly, like gliding shadows, down
+the track toward the cut.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rosalind had been asleep in the rocker. A cool night breeze, laden with
+the strong, pungent aroma of sage, sent a shiver over her and she awoke,
+to see that the lights of Manti had vanished. An eerie lonesomeness had
+settled around her.
+
+"Why, it must be nearly midnight!" she said. She got up, yawning, and
+stepped toward the door, wondering why Agatha had not called her. But
+Agatha had retired, resenting the girl's manner.
+
+Almost to the door, Rosalind detected movement in the ghostly semi-light
+that flooded the plains between the porch and the picturesque spot, more
+than a mile away, on which Levins' cabin stood. She halted at the door and
+watched, and when the moving object resolved into a horse, loping swiftly,
+she strained her eyes toward it. At first it seemed to have no rider, but
+when it had approached to within a hundred yards of her, she gasped,
+leaped off the porch and ran toward the horse. An instant later she stood
+at the animal's head, voicing her astonishment.
+
+"Why, it's Chuck Levins! Why on earth are you riding around at this hour
+of the night?"
+
+"Sissy's sick. Maw wants you to please come an' see what you can do--if it
+ain't too much trouble."
+
+"Trouble?" The girl laughed. "I should say not! Wait until I saddle my
+horse!"
+
+She ran to the porch and stole silently into the house, emerging with a
+small medicine case, which she stuck into a pocket of her coat. Once
+before she had had occasion to use her simple remedies on Sissy--an
+illness as simple as her remedies; but she could feel something of Mrs.
+Levins' concern for her offspring, and--and it was an ideal night for a
+gallop over the plains.
+
+It was almost midnight by the Levins' clock when she entered the cabin,
+and a quick diagnosis of her case with an immediate application of one of
+her remedies, brought results. At half past twelve Sissy was sleeping
+peacefully, and Chuck had dozed off, fully dressed, no doubt ready to
+re-enact his manly and heroic rôle upon call.
+
+It was not until Rosalind was ready to go that Mrs. Levins apologized for
+her husband's rudeness to his guest.
+
+"Clay feels awfully bitter against Corrigan. It's because Corrigan is
+fighting Trevison--and Trevison is Clay's friend--they've been like
+brothers. Trevison has done so much for us."
+
+Rosalind glanced around the cabin. She had meant to ask Chuck why his
+father had not come on the midnight errand, but had forebore. "Mr. Levins
+isn't here?"
+
+"Clay went away about nine o'clock." The woman did not meet Rosalind's
+direct gaze; she flushed under it and looked downward, twisting her
+fingers in her apron. Rosalind had noted a strangeness in the woman's
+manner when she had entered the cabin, but she had ascribed it to the
+child's illness, and had thought nothing more of it. But now it burst upon
+her with added force, and when she looked up again Rosalind saw there was
+an odd, strained light in her eyes--a fear, a dread--a sinister something
+that she shrank from. Rosalind remembered the killing of Marchmont, and
+had a quick divination of impending trouble.
+
+"What is it, Mrs. Levins? What has happened?"
+
+The woman gulped hard, and clenched her hands. Evidently, whatever her
+trouble, she had determined to bear it alone, but was now wavering.
+
+"Tell me, Mrs. Levins; perhaps I can help you?"
+
+"You can!" The words burst sobbingly from the woman. "Maybe you can
+prevent it. But, oh, Miss Rosalind, I wasn't to say anything--Clay told me
+not to. But I'm so afraid! Clay's so hot-headed, and Trevison is so
+daring! I'm afraid they won't stop at anything!"
+
+"But what is it?" demanded Rosalind, catching something of the woman's
+excitement.
+
+"It's about the machinery at the butte--the mining machinery. My God,
+you'll never say I told you--will you? But they're going to blow it up
+tonight--Clay and Trevison; they're going to dynamite it! I'm afraid there
+will be murder done!"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me before?" The girl stood rigid, white, breathless.
+
+"Oh, I ought to," moaned the woman. "But I was afraid you'd
+tell--Corrigan--somebody--and--and they'd get into trouble with the law!"
+
+"I won't tell--but I'll stop it--if there's time! For your sake. Trevison
+is the one to blame."
+
+She inquired about the location of the butte; the shortest trail, and then
+ran out to her horse. Once in the saddle she drew a deep breath and sent
+the animal scampering into the flood of moonlight.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Down toward the cut the two men ran, and when they reached a gully at a
+distance of several hundred feet from the dynamite shed they came upon
+their horses. Mounting, they rode rapidly down the track toward the butte
+where the mining machinery was being erected. They had taken the
+handkerchiefs off while they ran, and now Trevison laughed with the hearty
+abandon of a boy whose mischievous prank has succeeded.
+
+"That was easy. I thought I heard a noise, though, when you backed against
+the door and shoved it open."
+
+"Nobody usually monkeys around a dynamite shed at night," returned Levins.
+"Whew! There's enough of that stuff there to blow Manti to Kingdom
+Come--wherever that is."
+
+They rode boldly across the level at the base of the butte, for they had
+reconnoitered after meeting on the plains just outside of town, and knew
+Corrigan had left no one on guard.
+
+"It's a cinch," Levins declared as they dismounted from their horses in
+the shelter of a shoulder of the butte, about a hundred yards from where
+the corrugated iron building, nearly complete, loomed somberly on the
+level. "But if they'd ever get evidence that we done it--"
+
+Trevison laughed lowly, with a grim humor that made Levins look sharply at
+him. "That abandoned pueblo on the creek near your shack is built like a
+fortress, Levins."
+
+"What in hell has this job got to do with that dobie pile?" questioned the
+other.
+
+"Plenty. Oh, you're curious, now. But I'm going to keep you guessing for a
+day or two."
+
+"You'll go loco--give you time," scoffed Levins.
+
+"Somebody else will go crazy when this stuff lets go," laughed Trevison,
+tapping his pockets.
+
+Levins snickered. They trailed the reins over the heads of their horses,
+and walked swiftly toward the corrugated iron building. Halting in the
+shadow of it, they held a hurried conference, and then separated, Trevison
+going toward the engine, already set up, with its flimsy roof covering it,
+and working around it for a few minutes, then darting from it to a small
+building filled with tools and stores, and to a pile of machinery and
+supplies stacked against the wall of the butte. They worked rapidly,
+elusive as shadows in the deep gloom of the wall of the butte, and when
+their work was completed they met in the full glare of the moonlight near
+the corrugated iron building and whispered again.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lashing her horse over a strange trail, Rosalind Benham came to a thicket
+of gnarled fir-balsam and scrub oak that barred her way completely. She
+had ridden hard and her horse breathed heavily during the short time she
+spent looking about her. Her own breath was coming sharply, sobbing in her
+throat, but it was more from excitement than from the hazard and labor of
+the ride, for she had paid little attention to the trail, beyond giving
+the horse direction, trusting to the animal's wisdom, accepting the risks
+as a matter-of-course. It was the imminence of violence that had aroused
+her, the portent of a lawless deed that might result in tragedy. She had
+told Mrs. Levins that she was doing this thing for _her_ sake, but she
+knew better. She _did_ consider the woman, but she realized that her
+dominating passion was for the grim-faced young man who, discouraged,
+driven to desperation by the force of circumstances--just or not--was
+fighting for what he considered were his rights--the accumulated results
+of ten years of exile and work. She wanted to save him from this deed,
+from the results of it, even though there was nothing but condemnation in
+her heart for him because of it.
+
+"To the left of the thicket is a slope," Mrs. Levins had told her. She
+stopped only long enough to get her bearings, and at her panting, "Go!"
+the horse leaped. They were at the crest of the slope quickly, facing the
+bottom, yawning, deep, dark. She shut her eyes as the horse took it,
+leaning back to keep from falling over the animal's head, holding tightly
+to the pommel of the saddle. They got down, someway, and when she felt the
+level under them she lashed the horse again, and urged him around a
+shoulder of the precipitous wall that loomed above her, frowning and
+somber.
+
+She heard a horse whinny as she flashed past the shoulder, her own beast
+tearing over the level with great catlike leaps, but she did not look
+back, straining her eyes to peer into the darkness along the wall of the
+butte for sight of the buildings and machinery.
+
+She saw them soon after passing the shoulder, and exclaimed her thanks
+sharply.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"All set," said one of the shadowy figures near the corrugated iron
+building. A match flared, was applied to a stick of punk in the hands of
+each man, and again they separated, each running, applying the glowing
+wand here and there.
+
+Trevison's work took him longest, and when he leaped from the side of a
+mound of supplies Levins was already running back toward the shoulder
+where they had left their horses. They joined, then split apart, their
+weapons leaping into their hands, for they heard the rapid drumming of
+horse's hoofs.
+
+"They're coming!" panted Trevison, his jaws setting as he plunged on
+toward the shoulder of the butte. "Run low and duck at the flash of their
+guns!" he warned Levins.
+
+A wide swoop brought the oncoming horse around the shoulder of the butte
+into full view. As the moonlight shone, momentarily, on the rider,
+Trevison cried out, hoarsely:
+
+"God, it's a woman!"
+
+He leaped, at the words, out of the shadow of the butte into the moonlight
+of the level, straight into the path of the running horse, which at sight
+of him slid, reared and came to a halt, snorting and trembling. Trevison
+had recognized the girl; he flung himself at the horse, muttering:
+"Dynamite!" seized the beast by the bridle, forced its head around despite
+the girl's objections and incoherent pleadings--some phrases of which sank
+home, but were disregarded.
+
+"Don't!" she cried, fiercely, as he struck the animal with his fist to
+accelerate its movements. She was still crying to him, wildly,
+hysterically, as he got the animal's head around and slapped it sharply on
+the hip, his pistol crashing at its heels.
+
+The frightened animal clattered over the back trail, Trevison running
+after it. He reached Nigger, flung himself into the saddle, and raced
+after Levins, who was already far down the level, following Rosalind's
+horse. At a turn in the butte he came upon them both, their horses halted,
+the girl berating Levins, the man laughing lowly at her.
+
+"Don't!" she cried to Trevison as he rode up. "Please, Trevison--don't let
+_that_ happen! It's criminal; it's outlawry!"
+
+"Too late," he said grimly, and rode close to her to grasp the bridle of
+her horse. Standing thus, they waited--an age, to the girl, in reality
+only a few seconds. Then the deep, solemn silence of the night was split
+by a hollow roar, which echoed and re-echoed as though a thousand thunder
+storms had centered over their heads. A vivid flash, extended, effulgent,
+lit the sky, the earth rocked, the canyon walls towering above them seemed
+to sway and reel drunkenly. The girl covered her face with her hands.
+Another blast smote the night, reverberating on the heels of the other;
+there followed another and another, so quickly that they blended; then
+another, with a distinct interval between. Then a breathless, unreal calm,
+through which distant echoes rumbled; then a dead silence, shattered at
+last by a heavy, distant clatter, as though myriad big hailstones were
+falling on a pavement. And then another silence--the period of reeling
+calm after an earthquake.
+
+"O God!" wailed the girl; "it is horrible!"
+
+"You've got to get out of here--the whole of Manti will be here in a few
+minutes! Come on!"
+
+He urged Nigger farther down the canyon, and up a rocky slope that brought
+them to the mesa. The girl was trembling, her breath coming gaspingly. He
+faced her as they came to a halt, pityingly, with a certain dogged
+resignation in his eyes.
+
+"What brought you here? Who told you we were here?" he asked, gruffly.
+
+"It doesn't matter!" She faced him defiantly. "You have outraged the laws
+of your country tonight! I hope you are punished for it!"
+
+He laughed, derisively. "Well, you've seen; you know. Go and inform your
+friends. What I have done I did after long deliberation in which I
+considered fully the consequences to myself. Levins wasn't concerned in
+it, so you don't need to mention his name. Your ranch is in that
+direction, Miss Benham." He pointed southeastward, Nigger lunged, caught
+his stride in two or three jumps, and fled toward the southwest. His rider
+did not hear the girl's voice; it was drowned in clatter of hoofs as he
+and Levins rode.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+ANOTHER WOMAN RIDES
+
+
+Trevison rode in to town the next morning. On his way he went to the edge
+of the butte overlooking the level, and looked down upon the wreck and
+ruin he had caused. Masses of twisted steel and iron met his gaze; the
+level was littered with debris, which a gang of men under Carson was
+engaged in clearing away; a great section of the butte had been blasted
+out, earth, rocks, sand, had slid down upon much of the wreckage, partly
+burying it. The utter havoc of the scene brought a fugitive smile to his
+lips.
+
+He saw Carson waving a hand to him, and he answered the greeting, noting
+as he did so that Corrigan stood at a little distance behind Carson,
+watching. Trevison did not give him a second look, wheeling Nigger and
+sending him toward Manti at a slow lope. As he rode away, Corrigan called
+to Carson.
+
+"Your friend didn't seem to be much surprised."
+
+Carson turned, making a grimace while his back was yet toward Corrigan,
+but grinning broadly when he faced around.
+
+"Didn't he now? I wasn't noticin'. But, begorra, how c'ud he be surprised,
+whin the whole domned country was rocked out av its bed be the blast! Wud
+ye be expictin' him to fall over in a faint on beholdin' the wreck?"
+
+"Not he," said Corrigan, coldly; "he's got too much nerve for that."
+
+"Ain't he, now!" Carson looked guilelessly at the other. "Wud ye be havin'
+anny idee who done it?"
+
+Corrigan's eyes narrowed. "No," he said shortly, and turned away.
+
+Trevison's appearance in Manti created a stir. He had achieved a double
+result by his deed, for besides destroying the property and making it
+impossible for Corrigan to resume work for a considerable time, he had
+caused Manti's interest to center upon him sharply, having shocked into
+the town's consciousness a conception of the desperate battle that was
+being waged at its doors. For Manti had viewed the devastated butte early
+that morning, and had come away, seething with curiosity to get a glimpse
+of the man whom everybody secretly suspected of being the cause of it.
+Many residents of the town had known Trevison before--in half an hour
+after his arrival he was known to all. Public opinion was heavily in his
+favor and many approving comments were heard.
+
+"I ain't blamin' him a heap," said a man in the _Belmont_. "If things is
+as you say they are, there ain't much more that a _man_ could do!"
+
+"The laws is made for the guys with the coin an' the pull," said another,
+vindictively.
+
+"An' dynamite ain't carin' who's usin' it," said another, slyly. Both
+grinned. The universal sympathy for the "under dog" oppressed by Justice
+perverted or controlled, had here found expression.
+
+It was so all over Manti. Admiring glances followed Trevison; though he
+said no word concerning the incident; nor could any man have said, judging
+from the expression of his face, that he was elated. He had business in
+Manti--he completed it, and when he was ready to go he got on Nigger and
+loped out of town.
+
+"That man's nerve is as cold as a naked Eskimo at the North Pole,"
+commented an admirer. "If I'd done a thing like that I'd be layin' low to
+see if any evidence would turn up against me."
+
+"I reckon there ain't a heap of evidence," laughed his neighbor. "I expect
+everybody knows he done it, but knowin' an' provin' is two different
+things."
+
+A mile out of town Trevison met Corrigan. The latter halted his horse when
+he saw Trevison and waited for him to come up. The big man's face wore an
+ugly, significant grin.
+
+"You did a complete job," he said, eyeing the other narrowly. "And there
+doesn't seem to be any evidence. But look out! When a thing like that
+happens there's always somebody around to see it, and if I can get
+evidence against you I'll send you up for it!"
+
+He noted a slight quickening of Trevison's eyes at his mention of a
+witness, and a fierce exultation leaped within him.
+
+Trevison laughed, looking the other fairly between the eyes. Rosalind
+Benham hadn't informed on him. However, the day was not yet gone.
+
+"Get your evidence before you try to do any bluffing," he challenged. He
+spurred Nigger on, not looking back at his enemy.
+
+Corrigan rode to the laborers' tents, where he talked for a time with the
+cook. In the mess tent he stood with his back to a rough, pine-topped
+table, his hands on its edge. The table had not yet been cleared from the
+morning meal, for the cook had been interested in the explosion. He tried
+to talk of it with Corrigan, but the latter adroitly directed the
+conversation otherwise. The cook would have said they had a pleasant talk.
+Corrigan seemed very companionable this morning. He laughed a little; he
+listened attentively when the cook talked. After a while Corrigan fumbled
+in his pockets. Not finding a cigar, he looked eloquently at the cook's
+pipe, in the latter's mouth, belching much smoke.
+
+"Not a single cigar," he said. "I'm dying for a taste of tobacco."
+
+The cook took his pipe from his mouth and wiped the stem hastily on a
+sleeve. "If you don't mind I've been suckin' on it," he said, extending
+it.
+
+"I wouldn't deprive you of it for the world." Corrigan shifted his
+position, looked down at the table and smiled. "Luck, eh?" he said,
+picking up a black brier that lay on the table behind him. "Got plenty of
+tobacco?"
+
+The cook dove for a box in a corner and returned with a cloth sack,
+bulging. He watched while Corrigan filled the pipe, and grinned while his
+guest was lighting it.
+
+"Carson'll be ravin' today for forgettin' his pipe. He must have left it
+layin' on the table this mornin'--him bein' in such a rush to get down, to
+the explosion."
+
+"It's Carson's, eh?" Corrigan surveyed it with casual interest. "Well,"
+after taking a few puffs "--I'll say for Carson that he knows how to take
+care of it."
+
+He left shortly afterward, laying the pipe on the table where he had found
+it. Five minutes later he was in Judge Lindman's presence, leaning over
+the desk toward the other.
+
+"I want you to issue a warrant for Patrick Carson. I want him brought in
+here for examination. Charge him with being an accessory before the fact,
+or anything that seems to fit the case. But throw him into the cooler--and
+keep him there until he talks. He knows who broke into the dynamite shed,
+and therefore he knows who did the dynamiting. He's friendly with
+Trevison, and if we can make him admit he saw Trevison at the shed, we've
+got the goods. He warned Trevison the other day, when I had the deputies
+lined up at the butte, and I found his pipe this morning near the door of
+the dynamite shed. We'll make him talk, damn him!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Banker Braman had closed the door between the front and rear rooms, pulled
+down the shades of the windows, lighted the kerosene lamp, and by its
+wavering flicker was surveying his reflection in the small mirror affixed
+to one of the walls of the building. He was pleased, as the fatuous
+self-complacence of his look indicated, and carefully, almost fastidiously
+dressed, and he could not deny himself this last look into the mirror,
+even though he was now five minutes late with his appointment. The five
+minutes threatened to become ten, for, in adjusting his tie-pin it slipped
+from his fingers, struck the floor and vanished, as though an evil fate
+had gobbled it.
+
+He searched for it frenziedly, cursing lowly, but none the less viciously.
+It was quite by accident that when his patience was strained almost to the
+breaking point, he struck his hand against a board that formed part of the
+partition between his building and the courthouse next door, and tore a
+huge chunk of skin from the knuckles. He paid little attention to the
+injury, however, for the agitating of the board disclosed the glittering
+recreant, and he pounced upon it with the precision of a hawk upon its
+prey, snarling triumphantly.
+
+"I'll nail that damned board up, some day!" he threatened. But he knew he
+wouldn't, for by lying on the floor and pulling the board out a trifle, he
+could get a clear view of the interior of the courthouse, and could hear
+quite plainly, in spite of the presence of a wooden box resting against
+the wall on the other side. And some of the things that Braman had already
+heard through the medium of the loose board were really interesting, not
+to say instructive, to him.
+
+He was ten minutes late in keeping his appointment. He might have been
+even later without being in danger of receiving the censure he deserved.
+For the lady received him in a loose wrapper and gracefully disordered
+hair, a glance at which made Braman gasp in unfeigned admiration.
+
+"What's this?" he demanded with a pretense of fatherly severity, which he
+imagined became him very well in the presence of women. "Not ready yet,
+Mrs. Harvey?"
+
+The woman waved him to a chair with unsmiling unconcern; dropped into
+another, crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, her hands folded
+across the back of her head, her sleeves, wide and flaring, sliding down
+below her elbows. She caught Braman's burning stare of interest in this
+revelation of negligence, and smiled at him in faint derision.
+
+"I'm tired, Croft. I've changed my mind about going to the First
+Merchants' Ball. I'd much rather sit here and chin you--if you don't
+mind."
+
+"Not a bit!" hastily acquiesced the banker. "In fact, I like the idea of
+staying here much better. It is more private, you know." He grinned
+significantly, but the woman's smile of faint derision changed merely to
+irony, which held steadily, making Braman's cheeks glow crimson.
+
+"Well, then," she laughed, exulting in her power over him; "let's get
+busy. What do you want to chin about?"
+
+"I'll tell you after I've wet my whistle," said the banker, gayly. "I'm
+dry as a bone in the middle of the Sahara desert!"
+
+"I'll take mine 'straight,'" she laughed.
+
+Braman rang a bell. A waiter with glasses and a bottle appeared, entered,
+was paid, and departed, grinning without giving the banker any change from
+a ten dollar bill.
+
+The woman laughed immoderately at Braman's wolfish snarl.
+
+"Be a sport, Croft. Don't begrudge a poor waiter a few honestly earned
+dollars!"
+
+"And now, what has the loose-board telephone told you?" she asked, two
+hours later when flushed of face from frequent attacks on the
+bottle--Braman rather more flushed than she--they relaxed in their chairs
+after a tilt at poker in which the woman had been the victor.
+
+"You're sure you don't care for Trevison any more--that you're only taking
+his end of this because of what he's been to you in the past?" demanded
+the banker, looking suspiciously at her.
+
+"He told me he didn't love me any more. I couldn't want him after that,
+could I?"
+
+"I should think not." Braman's eyes glowed with satisfaction. But he
+hesitated, yielding when she smiled at him. "Damn it, I'd knife Corrigan
+for you!" he vowed, recklessly.
+
+"Save Trevison--that's all I ask. Tell me what you heard."
+
+"Corrigan suspects Trevison of blowing up the stuff at the butte--as
+everybody does, of course. He's determined to get evidence against him. He
+found Carson's pipe at the door of the dynamite shed this morning. Carson
+is a friend of Trevison's. Corrigan is going to have Judge Lindman issue a
+warrant for the arrest of Carson--on some charge--and they're going to
+jail Carson until he talks."
+
+The woman cursed profanely, sharply. "That's Corrigan's idea of a square
+deal. He promised me that no harm should come to Trevison." She got up and
+walked back and forth in the room, Braman watching her with passion lying
+naked in his eyes, his lips loose and moist.
+
+She stopped in front of him, finally. "Go home, Croft--there's a good boy.
+I want to think."
+
+"That's cruelty to animals," he laughed in a strained voice. "But I'll
+go," he added at signs of displeasure on her face. "Can I see you tomorrow
+night?"
+
+"I'll let you know." She held the door open for him, and permitted him to
+take her hand for an instant. He squeezed it hotly, the woman making a
+grimace of repugnance as she closed the door.
+
+Swiftly she changed from her loose gown to a simple, short-skirted affair,
+slipped on boots, a felt hat, gloves. Leaving the light burning, she
+slipped out into the hall and called to the waiter who had served her and
+Braman. By rewarding him generously she procured a horse, and a few
+minutes later she emerged from the building by a rear door, mounting the
+animal and sending it clattering out into the night.
+
+Twice she lost her way and rode miles before she recovered her sense of
+direction, and when she finally pulled the beast to a halt at the edge of
+the Diamond K ranchhouse gallery, midnight was not far away. The
+ranchhouse was dark. She smothered a gasp of disappointment as she crossed
+the gallery floor. She was about to hammer on the door when it swung open
+and Trevison stepped out, peered closely at her and laughed shortly.
+
+"It's you, eh?" he said. "I thought I told you--"
+
+She winced at his tone, but it did not lessen her concern for him.
+
+"It isn't that, Trev! And I don't care how you treat me--I deserve it! But
+I can't see them punish you--for what you did last night!" She felt him
+start, his muscles stiffen.
+
+"Something has turned up, then. You came to warn me? What is it?"
+
+"You were seen last night! They're going to arrest--"
+
+"So she squealed, did she?" he interrupted. He laughed lowly, bitterly,
+with a vibrant disappointment that wrung the woman's heart with sympathy.
+But her brain quickly grasped the significance of his words, and longing
+dulled her sense of honor. It was too good an opportunity to miss. "Bah! I
+expected it. She told me she would. I was a fool to dream otherwise!" He
+turned on Hester and grasped her by the shoulders, and her flesh deadened
+under his fingers.
+
+"Did she tell Corrigan?"
+
+"Yes." The woman told the lie courageously, looking straight into his
+eyes, though she shrank at the fire that came into them as he released her
+and laughed.
+
+"Where did you get your information?" His voice was suddenly sullen and
+cold.
+
+"From Braman."
+
+He started, and laughed in humorous derision.
+
+"Braman and Corrigan are blood brothers in this deal. You must have
+captivated the little sneak completely to make him lose his head like
+that!"
+
+"I did it for you, Trev--for you. Don't you see? Oh, I despise the little
+beast! But he dropped a hint one day when I was in the bank, and I
+deliberately snared him, hoping I might be able to gain information that
+would benefit you. And I have, Trev!" she added, trembling with a hope
+that his hasty judgment might result to her advantage. And how near she
+had come to mentioning Carson's name! If Trevison had waited for just
+another second before interrupting her! Fortune had played favorably into
+her hands tonight!
+
+"For you, boy," she said, slipping close to him, sinuously, whispering,
+knowing the "she" he had mentioned _must_ be Rosalind Benham. "Old friends
+are best, boy. At least they can be depended upon not to betray one. Trev;
+let me help you! I can, and I will! Why, I love you, Trev! And you need
+me, to help you fight these people who are trying to ruin you!"
+
+"You don't understand." Trevison's voice was cold and passionless. "It
+seems I can't _make_ you understand. I'm grateful for what you have done
+for me tonight--very grateful. But I can't live a lie, woman. I don't love
+you!"
+
+"But you love a woman who has delivered you into the hands of your
+enemies," she moaned.
+
+"I can't help it," he declared hoarsely. "I don't deny it. I would love
+her if she sent me to the gallows, and stood there, watching me die!"
+
+The woman bowed her head, and dropped her hands listlessly to her sides.
+In this instant she was thinking almost the same words that Rosalind
+Benham had murmured on her ride to Blakeley's, when she had discovered
+Trevison's identity: "I wonder if Hester Keyes knows what she has
+missed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A MAN ERRS--AND PAYS
+
+
+For a time Trevison stood on the gallery, watching the woman as she faded
+into the darkness toward Manti, and then he laughed mirthlessly and went
+into the house, emerging with a rifle and saddle. A few minutes later he
+rode Nigger out of the corral and headed him southwestward. Shortly after
+midnight he was at the door of Levins' cabin. The latter grinned with
+feline humor after they held a short conference.
+
+"That's right," he said; "you don't need any of the boys to help you pull
+_that_ off--they'd mebbe go to actin' foolish an' give the whole snap
+away. Besides, I'm a heap tickled to be let in on that sort of a
+jamboree!" There followed an interval, during which his grin faded. "So
+she peached on you, eh? She told my woman she wouldn't. That's a woman,
+ain't it? How's a man to tell about 'em?"
+
+"That's a secret of my own that I am not ready to let you in on. Don't
+tell your wife where you are going _tonight_."
+
+"I ain't reckonin' to. I'll be with you in a jiffy!" He vanished into the
+cabin, reappeared, ran to the stable, and rode out to meet Trevison.
+Together they were swallowed up by the plains.
+
+At eight o'clock in the morning Corrigan came out of the dining-room of
+his hotel and stopped at the cigar counter. He filled his case, lit one,
+and stood for a moment with an elbow on the glass of the show case,
+smoking thoughtfully.
+
+"That was quite an accident you had at your mine. Have you any idea who
+did it?" asked the clerk, watching him furtively.
+
+Corrigan glanced at the man, his lips curling.
+
+"You might guess," he said through his teeth.
+
+"That fellow Trevison is a bad actor," continued the clerk. "And say," he
+went on, confidentially; "not that I want to make you feel bad, but the
+majority of the people of this town are standing with him in this deal.
+They think you are not giving the land-owners a square deal. Not that I'm
+'knocking' _you_," the clerk denied, flushing at the dark look Corrigan
+threw him. "That's merely what I hear. Personally, I'm for you. This town
+needs men like you, and it can get along without fellows like Trevison."
+
+"Thank you," smiled Corrigan, disgusted with the man, but feeling that it
+might be well to cultivate such ingratiating interest. "Have a cigar."
+
+"I'll go you. Yes, sir," he added, when he had got the weed going; "this
+town can get along without any Trevisons. These sagebrush rummies out here
+give me a pain. What this country needs is less brute force and more
+brains!" He drew his shoulders erect as though convinced that he was not
+lacking in the particular virtue to which he had referred.
+
+"You are right," smiled Corrigan, mildly. "Brains are all important. A
+hotel clerk must be well supplied. I presume you see and hear a great many
+things that other people miss seeing and hearing." Corrigan thought this
+thermometer of public opinion might have other information.
+
+"You've said it! We've got to keep our wits about us. There's very little
+escapes us." He leered at Corrigan's profile. "That's a swell Moll in
+number eleven, ain't it?"
+
+"What do you know about her?" Corrigan's face was inexpressive.
+
+"Oh say now!" The clerk guffawed close to Corrigan's ear without making
+the big man wink an eyelash. "You don't mean to tell me that you ain't
+_on_! I saw you steer to her room one night--the night she came here. And
+once or twice, since. But of course us hotel clerks don't see anything!
+She is down on the register as Mrs. Harvey. But say! You don't see any
+married women running around the country dressed like her!"
+
+"She may be a widow."
+
+"Well, yes, maybe she might. But she shows speed, don't she?" He
+whispered. "You're a pretty good friend of mine, now, and maybe if I'd
+give you a tip you'd throw something in my way later on--eh?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Oh, you might start a hotel here--or something. And I'm thinking of
+blowing this joint. This town's booming, and it can stand a swell hotel in
+a few months."
+
+"You're on--if I build a hotel. Shoot!"
+
+The clerk leaned closer, whispering: "She receives other men. You're not
+the only one."
+
+"Who?"
+
+The clerk laughed, and made a funnel of one hand. "The banker across the
+street--Braman."
+
+Corrigan bit his cigar in two, and slowly spat that which was left in his
+mouth into a cuspidor. He contrived to smile, though it cost him an
+effort, and his hands were clenched.
+
+"How many times has he been here?"
+
+"Oh, several."
+
+"When was he here last?"
+
+"Last night." The clerk laughed. "Looked half stewed when he left. Kinda
+hectic, too. Him and her must have had a tiff, for he left early. And
+after he'd gone--right away after--she sent one of the waiters out for a
+horse."
+
+"Which way did she go?"
+
+"West--I watched her; she went the back way, from here."
+
+Corrigan smiled and went out. The expression of his face was such as to
+cause the clerk to mutter, dazedly: "He didn't seem to be a whole lot
+interested. I guess I must have sized him up wrong."
+
+Corrigan stopped at his office in the bank, nodding curtly to Braman.
+Shortly afterward he got up and went to the courthouse. He had ordered
+Judge Lindman to issue a warrant for Carson the previous morning, and had
+intended to see that it was served. But a press of other matters had
+occupied his attention until late in the night.
+
+He tried the front door of the courthouse, to find it locked. The rear
+door was also locked. He tried the windows--all were fastened securely.
+Thinking the Judge still sleeping he went back to his office and spent an
+hour going over some correspondence. At the end of that time he visited
+the courthouse again. Angered, he went around to the side and burst the
+flimsy door in, standing in the opening, glowering, for the Judge's cot
+was empty, and the Judge nowhere to be seen.
+
+Corrigan stalked through the building, cursing. He examined the cot, and
+discovered that it had been slept in. The Judge must have risen early.
+Obviously, there was nothing to do but to wait. Corrigan did that,
+impatiently. For a long time he sat in the chair at his desk, watching
+Braman, studying him, scowling, rage in his heart. "If he's up to any
+dirty work, I'll choke him until his tongue hangs out a yard!" was a
+mental threat that he repeated many times. "But he's just mush-headed over
+the woman, I guess--he's that kind of a fool!"
+
+At ten o'clock Corrigan jumped on his horse and rode out to the butte
+where the laborers were working, clearing away the debris from the
+explosion. No one there had seen Judge Lindman. Corrigan rode back to
+town, fuming with rage. Finding some of the deputies he sent them out to
+search for the Judge. One by one they came in and reported their failure.
+At six-thirty, after the arrival of the evening train from Dry Bottom,
+Corrigan was sitting at his desk, his face black with wrath, reading for
+the third or fourth time a letter that he had spread out on the desk
+before him:
+
+  "MR. JEFFERSON CORRIGAN:
+
+  "I feel it is necessary for me to take a short rest. Recent
+  excitement in Manti has left me very nervous and unstrung. I shall be
+  away from Manti for about two weeks, I think. During my absence any
+  pending litigation must be postponed, of course."
+
+The letter was signed by Judge Lindman, and postmarked "Dry Bottom."
+
+Corrigan got up after a while and stuffed the letter into a pocket. He
+went out, and when he returned, Braman had gone out also--to supper,
+Corrigan surmised. When the banker came in an hour later, Corrigan was
+still seated at his desk. The banker smiled at him, and Corrigan motioned
+to him.
+
+Corrigan's voice was silky. "Where were you last night, Braman?"
+
+The banker's face whitened; his thoughts became confused, but instantly
+cleared when he observed from the expression of the big man's face that
+the question was, apparently, a casual one. But he drew his breath
+tremulously. One could never be sure of Corrigan.
+
+"I spent the night here--in the back room."
+
+"Then you didn't see the Judge last night--or hear him?"
+
+"No."
+
+Corrigan drew the Judge's letter from the pocket and passed it over to
+Braman, watching his face steadily as he read. He saw a quick stain appear
+in the banker's cheeks, and his own lips tightened.
+
+The banker coughed before he spoke. "Wasn't that a rather abrupt
+leave-taking?"
+
+"Yes--rather," said Corrigan, dryly. "You didn't hear him walking about
+during the night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You're rather a heavy sleeper, eh? There is only a thin board partition
+between this building and the courthouse."
+
+"He must have left after daylight. Of course, any noise he might have made
+after that I wouldn't have noticed."
+
+"No, of course not," said Corrigan, passionlessly. "Well--he's gone." He
+seemed to have dismissed the matter from his mind and Braman sighed with
+relief. But he watched Corrigan narrowly during the remainder of the time
+he stayed in the office, and when he went out, Braman shook a vindictive
+fist at his back.
+
+"Worry, damn you!" he sneered. "I don't know what was in Judge Lindman's
+mind, but I hope he never comes back! That will help to repay you for that
+knockdown!"
+
+Corrigan went over to the _Castle_ and ate supper. He was preoccupied and
+deliberate, for he was trying to weave a complete fabric out of the
+threads of Braman's visits to Hester Harvey; Hester's ride westward, and
+Judge Lindman's abrupt departure. He had a feeling that they were in some
+way connected.
+
+At a little after seven he finished his meal, went upstairs and knocked at
+the door of Hester Harvey's room. He stepped inside when she opened the
+door, and stood, both hands in the pockets of his trousers, looking at her
+with a smile of repressed malignance.
+
+"Nice night for a ride, wasn't it?" he said, his lips parting a very
+little to allow the words to filter through.
+
+The woman flashed a quick, inquiring look at him, saw the passion in his
+eyes, the gleam of malevolent antagonism, and she set herself against it.
+For her talk with Trevison last night had convinced her of the futility of
+hope. She had gone out of his life as a commonplace incident slips into
+the oblivion of yesteryear. Worse--he had refused to recall it. It hurt
+her, this knowledge--his rebuff. It had aroused cold, wanton passions in
+her--she had become a woman who did not care. She met Corrigan's gaze with
+a look of defiant mockery.
+
+"Swell. I enjoyed every minute of it. Won't you sit down?"
+
+He held himself back, grinning coldly, for the woman's look had goaded him
+to fury.
+
+"No," he said; "I'll stand. I won't be here a minute. You saw Trevison
+last night, eh? You warned him that I was going to have Carson arrested."
+He had hazarded this guess, for it had seemed to him that it must be the
+solution to the mystery, and when he caught the quick, triumphant light in
+the woman's eyes at his words he knew he had not erred.
+
+"Yes," she said; "I saw him, and I told him--what Braman told me." She saw
+his eyes glitter and she laughed harshly. "That's what you wanted to know,
+isn't it, Jeff--what Braman told me? Well, you know it. I knew you
+couldn't play square with me. You thought you could dupe me--_again_,
+didn't you? Well, you didn't, for I snared Braman and pumped him dry. He's
+kept me posted on your movements; and his little board telephone--Ha, ha!
+that makes you squirm, doesn't it? But it was all wasted effort--Trevison
+won't have me--he's through. And I'm through. I'm not going to try any
+more. I'm going back East, after I get rested. You fight it out with
+Trevison. But I warn you, he'll beat you--and I wish he would! As for that
+beast, Braman, I wish--Ah, let him go, Jeff," she advised, noting the cold
+fury in his eyes.
+
+"That's all right," he said with a dry laugh. "You and Braman have done
+well. It hasn't done me any harm, and so we'll forget about it. What do
+you say to having a drink--and a talk. As in old times, eh?" He seemed
+suddenly to have conquered his passion, but the queer twitching of his
+lips warned the woman, and when he essayed to move toward her, smiling
+pallidly, she darted to the far side of a stand near the center of the
+room, pulled out a drawer, produced a small revolver and leveled it at
+him, her eyes wide and glittering with menace.
+
+"Stay where you are, Jeff!" she ordered. "There's murder in your heart,
+and I know it. But I don't intend to be the victim. I'll shoot if you come
+one step nearer!"
+
+He smirked at her, venomously. "All right," he said. "You're wise. But get
+out of town on the next train."
+
+"I'll go when I get ready--you can't scare me. Let me alone or I'll go to
+Rosalind Benham and let her in on the whole scheme."
+
+"Yes you will--not," he laughed. "If I know anything about you, you won't
+do anything that would give Miss Benham to Trevison."
+
+"That's right; I'd rather see her married to you--that would be the
+refinement of cruelty!"
+
+He laughed sneeringly and stepped out of the door. Waiting a short time,
+the woman heard his step in the hall. Then she darted to the door, locked
+it, and leaned against it, panting.
+
+"I've done it now," she murmured. "Braman--Well, it serves him right!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan stopped in the barroom and got a drink. Then he walked to the
+front door and stood in it for an instant, finally stepping down into the
+street. Across the street in the banking room he saw a thin streak of
+light gleaming through a crevice in the doorway that led from the banking
+room to the rear. The light told him that Braman was in the rear room.
+Selecting a moment when the street in his vicinity was deserted, Corrigan
+deliberately crossed, standing for a moment in the shadow of the bank
+building, looking around him. Then he slipped around the building and
+tapped cautiously on the rear door. An instant later he was standing
+inside the room, his back against the door. Braman, arrayed as he had been
+the night before, had opened the door. He had been just ready to go when
+he heard Corrigan's knock.
+
+"Going out, Croft?" said Corrigan pleasantly, eyeing the other intently.
+"All lit up, too! You're getting to be a gay dog, lately."
+
+There was nothing in Corrigan's bantering words to bring on that sudden
+qualm of sickening fear that seized the banker. He knew it was his guilt
+that had done it--guilt and perhaps a dread of Corrigan's rage if he
+_should_ learn of his duplicity. But that word "lately"! If it had been
+uttered with any sort of an accent he might have been suspicious. But it
+had come with the bantering ring of the others, with no hint of special
+significance. And Braman was reassured.
+
+"Yes, I'm going out." He turned to the mirror on the wall. "I'm getting
+rather stale, hanging around here so much."
+
+"That's right, Croft. Have a good time. How much money is there in the
+safe?"
+
+"Two or three thousand dollars." The banker turned from the glass. "Want
+some? Ha, ha!" he laughed at the other's short nod; "there are other gay
+dogs, I guess! How much do you want?"
+
+"All you've got?"
+
+"All! Jehoshaphat! You must have a big deal on tonight!"
+
+"Yes, big," said Corrigan evenly. "Get it."
+
+He followed the banker into the banking room, carefully closing the door
+behind him, so that the light from the rear room could not penetrate.
+"That's all right," he reassured the banker as the latter noticed the
+action; "this isn't a public matter."
+
+He stuffed his pockets with the money the banker gave him, and when the
+other tried to close the door of the safe he interposed a restraining
+hand, laughing:
+
+"Leave it open, Croft. It's empty now, and a cracksman trying to get into
+it would ruin a perfectly good safe, for nothing."
+
+"That's right."
+
+They went into the rear room again, Corrigan last, closing the door behind
+him. Braman went again to the glass, Corrigan standing silently behind
+him.
+
+Standing before the glass, the banker was seized with a repetition of the
+sickening fear that had oppressed him at Corrigan's words upon his
+entrance. It seemed to him that there was a sinister significance behind
+Corrigan's present silence. A tension came between them, portentous of
+evil. Braman shivered, but the silence held. The banker tried to think of
+something to say--his thoughts were rioting in chaos, a dumb, paralyzing
+terror had seized him, his lips stuck together, the facial muscles
+refusing their office. He dropped his hands to his sides and stared into
+the glass, noting the ghastly pallor that had come over his face--the
+dull, whitish yellow of muddy marble. He could not turn, his legs were
+quivering. He knew it was conscience--only that. And yet Corrigan's
+ominous silence continued. And now he caught his breath with a shuddering
+gasp, for he saw Corrigan's face reflected in the glass, looking over his
+shoulder--a mirthless smirk on it, the eyes cold, and dancing with a
+merciless and cunning purpose. While he watched, he saw Corrigan's lips
+open:
+
+"Where's the board telephone, Braman?"
+
+The banker wheeled, then. He tried to scream--the sound died in a gasping
+gurgle as Corrigan leaped and throttled him. Later, he fought to loosen
+the grip of the iron fingers at his throat, twisting, squirming, threshing
+about the room in his agony. The grip held, tightened. When the banker was
+quite still Corrigan put out the light, went into the banking room, where
+he scattered the papers and books in the safe all around the room. Then he
+twisted the lock off the door, using an iron bar that he had noticed in a
+corner when he had come in, and stepped out into the shadow of the
+building.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+FIRST PRINCIPLES
+
+
+Judge Lindman shivered, though a merciless, blighting sun beat down on the
+great stone ledge that spread in front of the opening, smothering him with
+heat waves that eddied in and out, and though the interior of the
+low-ceilinged chamber pulsed with the fetid heat sucked in from the plains
+generations before. The adobe walls, gray-black in the subdued light, were
+dry as powder and crumbling in spots, the stone floor was exposed in many
+places; there was a strange, sickening odor, as though the naked,
+perspiring bodies of inhabitants in ages past had soaked the walls and
+floor with the man-scent, and intervening years of disuse had mingled
+their musty breath with it. But for the presence of the serene-faced,
+steady-eyed young man who leaned carelessly against the wall outside,
+whose shoulder and profile he could see, the Judge might have yielded
+completely to the overpowering conviction that he was dreaming, and that
+his adventures of the past twelve hours were horrors of his imagination.
+But he knew from the young man's presence at the door that his experience
+had been real enough, and the knowledge kept his brain out of the
+threatening chaos.
+
+Some time during the night he had awakened on his cot in the rear room of
+the courthouse to hear a cold, threatening voice warning him to silence.
+He had recognized the voice, as he had recognized it once before, under
+similar conditions. He had been gagged, his hands tied behind him. Then he
+had been lifted, carried outside, placed on the back of a horse, in front
+of his captor, and borne away in the darkness. They had ridden many miles
+before the horse came to a halt and he was lifted down. Then he had been
+forced to ascend a sharp slope; he could hear the horse clattering up
+behind them. But he had not been able to see anything in the darkness,
+though he felt he was walking along the edge of a cliff. The walk had
+ended abruptly, when his captor had forced him into his present quarters
+with a gruff admonition to sleep. Sleep had come hard, and he had done
+little of it, napping merely, sitting on the stone floor, his back against
+the wall, most of the time watching his captor. He had talked some, asking
+questions which his captor ignored. Then a period of oblivion had come,
+and he had awakened to the sunshine. For an hour he had sat where he was,
+looking out at his captor and blinking at the brilliant sunshine. But he
+had asked no questions since awakening, for he had become convinced of the
+meaning of all this. But he was intensely curious, now.
+
+"Where have you brought me?" he demanded of his jailor.
+
+"You're awake, eh?" Trevison grinned as he wheeled and looked in at his
+prisoner. "This," he waved a hand toward the ledge and its surroundings,
+"is an Indian pueblo, long deserted. It makes an admirable prison, Judge.
+It is also a sort of a fort. There is only one vulnerable point--the slope
+we came up last night. I'll take you on a tour of examination, if you
+like. And then you must return here, to stay until you disclose the
+whereabouts of the original land record."
+
+The Judge paled, partly from anger, partly from a fear that gripped him.
+
+"This is an outrage, Trevison! This is America!"
+
+"Is it?" The young man smiled imperturbably. "There have been times during
+the past few weeks when I doubted it, very much. It _is_ America, though,
+but it is a part of America that the average American sees little of--that
+he knows little of. As little, let us say, as he knows of the weird
+application of its laws--as applied by _some_ judges." He smiled as
+Lindman winced. "I have given up hoping to secure justice in the regular
+way, and so we are in the midst of a reversion to first principles--which
+may lead us to our goal."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That I _must_ have the original record, Judge, I mean to have it."
+
+"I deny--"
+
+"Yes--of course. Deny, if you like. We shan't argue. Do you want to
+explore the place? There will be plenty of time for talk."
+
+He stepped aside as the Judge came out, and grinned broadly as he caught
+the Judge's shrinking look at a rifle he took up as he turned. It had been
+propped against the wall at his side. He swung it to the hollow of his
+left elbow. "Your knowledge of firearms convinces you that you can't run
+as fast as a rifle bullet, doesn't it, Judge?"
+
+The Judge's face indicated that he understood.
+
+"Ever make the acquaintance of an Indian pueblo, Judge?"
+
+"No. I came West only a year ago, and I have kept pretty close to my
+work."
+
+"Well, you'll feel pretty intimate with this one by the time you leave
+it--if you're obstinate," laughed Trevison. He stood still and watched the
+Judge. The latter was staring hard at his surroundings, perhaps with
+something of the awed reverence that overtakes the tourist when for the
+first time he views an ancient ruin.
+
+The pueblo seemed to be nothing more than a jumble of adobe boxes piled in
+an indiscriminate heap on a gigantic stone level surmounting the crest of
+a hill. A sheer rock wall, perhaps a hundred feet in height, descended to
+the surrounding slopes; the latter sweeping down to join the plains. A
+dust, light, dry, and feathery lay thickly on the adobe boxes on the
+surrounding ledge on the slopes, like a gray ash sprinkled from a giant
+sifter. Cactus and yucca dotted the slopes, thorny, lancelike, repellent;
+lava, dull, hinting of volcanic fire, filled crevices and depressions, and
+huge blocks of stone, detached in the progress of disintegration, were
+scattered about.
+
+"It has taken ages for this to happen!" the Judge heard himself
+murmuring.
+
+Trevison laughed lowly. "So it has, Judge. Makes you think of your school
+days, doesn't it? You hardly remember it, though. You have a hazy sort of
+recollection of a print of a pueblo in a geography, or in a geological
+textbook, but at the time you were more interested in Greek roots, the
+Alps, Louis Quinze, the heroes of mythology, or something equally foreign,
+and you forgot that your own country might hold something of interest for
+you. But the history of these pueblo towns must be pretty interesting, if
+one could get at it. All that I have heard of it are some pretty weird
+legends. There can be no doubt, I suppose, that the people who inhabited
+these communal houses had laws to govern them--and judges to apply the
+laws. And I presume that then, as now, the judges were swayed by powerful
+influences in--"
+
+The Judge glared at his tormentor. The latter laughed.
+
+"It is reasonable to presume, too," he went on, "that in some cases the
+judges rendered some pretty raw decisions. And carrying the supposition
+further, we may believe that then, as now, the poor downtrodden
+proletariat got rather hot under the collar. There are always some
+hot-tempered fools among all classes and races that do, you know. They
+simply can't stand the feel of the iron heel of the oppressor. Can you
+picture a hot-tempered fool of that tribe abducting a judge of the court
+of his people and carrying him away to some uninhabited place, there to
+let him starve until he decided to do the right thing?"
+
+"Starve!" gasped the Judge.
+
+"The chambers and tunnels connecting these communal houses--they look like
+mud boxes, don't they, Judge? And there isn't a soul in any of them--nor a
+bite to eat! As I was about to remark, the chambers and tunnels and the
+passages connecting these places are pretty bare and cheerless--if we
+except scorpions, horned toads, centipedes, tarantulas--and other equally
+undesirable occupants. Not a pleasant place to sojourn in until--How long
+can a man live without eating, Judge? You know, of course, that the
+Indians selected an elevated and isolated site, such as this, because of
+its strategical advantages? This makes an ideal fort. Nobody can get into
+it except by negotiating the slope we came up last night. And a rifle in
+the hands of a man with a yearning to use it would make _that_ approach
+pretty unsafe, wouldn't it?"
+
+"My God!" moaned the Judge; "you talk like a man bereft of his senses!"
+
+"Or like a man who is determined not to be robbed of his rights," added
+Trevison. "Well, come along. We won't dwell on such things if they depress
+you."
+
+He took the Judge's arm and escorted him. They circled the broad stone
+ledge. It ran in wide, irregular sweeps in the general outline of a huge
+circle, surrounded by the dust-covered slopes melting into the plains, so
+vast that the eye ached in an effort to comprehend them. Miles away they
+could see smoke befouling the blue of the sky. The Judge knew the smoke
+came from Manti, and he wondered if Corrigan were wondering over his
+disappearance. He mentioned that to Trevison, and the latter grinned
+faintly at him.
+
+"I forgot to mention that to you. It was all arranged last night. Clay
+Levins went to Dry Bottom on a night train. He took with him a letter,
+which he was to mail at Dry Bottom, explaining your absence to Corrigan.
+Needless to say, your signature was forged. But I did so good a job that
+Corrigan will not suspect. Corrigan will get the letter by tonight. It
+says that you are going to take a long rest."
+
+The Judge gasped and looked quickly at Trevison. The young man's face was
+wreathed in a significant grin.
+
+"In the first analysis, this looks like a rather strange proceeding," said
+Trevison. "But if you get deeper into it you see its logic. You know where
+the original record is. I want it. I mean to have it. One life--a dozen
+lives--won't stop me. Oh, well, we won't talk about it if you're going to
+shudder that way."
+
+He led the Judge up a flimsy, rotted ladder to a flat roof, forcing him to
+look into a chamber where vermin fled at their appearance. Then through
+numerous passages, low, narrow, reeking with a musty odor that nauseated
+the Judge; on narrow ledges where they had to hug the walls to keep from
+falling, and then into an open court with a stone floor, stained dark, in
+the center a huge oblong block of stone, surmounting a pyramid, appalling
+in its somber suggestiveness.
+
+"The sacrificial altar," said Trevison, grimly. "These stains here,
+are--"
+
+He stopped, for the Judge had turned his back.
+
+Trevison led him away. He had to help him down the ladder each time they
+descended, and when they reached the chamber from which they had started
+the Judge was white and shaking.
+
+Trevison pushed him inside and silently took a position at the door. The
+Judge sank to the floor of the chamber, groaning.
+
+The hours dragged slowly. Trevison changed his position twice. Once he
+went away, but returned in a few minutes with a canteen, from which he
+drank, deeply. The Judge had been without food or water since the night
+before, and thirst tortured him. The gurgle of the water as it came out of
+the canteen, maddened him.
+
+"I'd like a drink, Trevison."
+
+"Of course. Any man would."
+
+"May I have one?"
+
+"The minute you tell me where that record is."
+
+The Judge subsided. A moment later Trevison's voice floated into the
+chamber, cold and resonant:
+
+"I don't think you're in this thing for money, Judge. Corrigan has some
+sort of a hold on you. What is it?"
+
+The Judge did not answer.
+
+The sun climbed to the zenith. It grew intensely hot in the chamber. Twice
+during the afternoon the Judge asked for water, and each time he received
+the answer he had received before. He did not ask for food, for he felt it
+would not be given him. At sundown his captor entered the chamber and gave
+him a meager draught from the canteen. Then he withdrew and stood on the
+ledge in front of the door, looking out into the darkening plains, and
+watching him, a conviction of the futility of resisting him seized the
+Judge. He stood framed in the opening of the chamber, the lines of his
+bold, strong face prominent in the dusk, the rifle held loosely in the
+crook of his left arm, the right hand caressing the stock, his shoulders
+squared, his big, lithe, muscular figure suggesting magnificent physical
+strength, as the light in his eyes, the set of his head and the firm lines
+of his mouth, brought a conviction of rare courage and determination. The
+sight of him thrilled the Judge; he made a picture that sent the Judge's
+thoughts skittering back to things primitive and heroic. In an earlier day
+the Judge had dreamed of being like him, and the knowledge that he had
+fallen far short of realizing his ideal made him shiver with
+self-aversion. He stifled a moan--or tried to and did not succeed, for it
+reached Trevison's ears and he turned quickly.
+
+"Did you call, Judge?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" whispered the Judge, hoarsely. "I want--to tell you
+everything! I have longed to tell you all along!"
+
+An hour later they were sitting on the edge of the ledge, their feet
+dangling, the abyss below them, the desert stars twinkling coldly above
+them; around them the indescribable solitude of a desert night filled with
+mystery, its vague, haunting, whispering voice burdened with its age-old
+secrets. Trevison had an arm around the Judge's shoulder. Their voices
+mingled--the Judge's low, quavering; Trevison's full, deep, sympathetic.
+
+After a while a rider appeared out of the starlit haze of the plains below
+them. The Judge started. Trevison laughed.
+
+"It's Clay Levins, Judge. I've been watching him for half an hour. He'll
+stay here with you while I go after the record. Under the bottom drawer,
+eh?"
+
+Levins hallooed to them. Trevison answered, and he and the Judge walked
+forward to meet Levins at the crest of the slope.
+
+"Slicker'n a whistle!" declared Levins, answering the question Trevison
+put to him. "I mailed the damn letter an' come back on the train that
+brought it to him!" He grinned felinely at the Judge. "I reckon you're a
+heap dry an' hungry by this time?"
+
+"The Judge has feasted," said Trevison. "I'm going after the record.
+You're to stay here with the Judge until I return. Then the three of us
+will ride to Las Vegas, where we will take a train to Santa Fe, to turn
+the record over to the Circuit Court."
+
+"Sounds good!" gloated Levins. "But it's too long around. I'm for
+somethin' more direct. Why not take the Judge with you to Manti, get the
+record, takin' a bunch of your boys with you--an' salivate that damned
+Corrigan an' his deputies!"
+
+Trevison laughed softly. "I don't want any violence if I can avoid it. My
+land won't run away while we're in Santa Fe. And the Judge doesn't want to
+meet Corrigan just now. I don't know that I blame him."
+
+"Where's the record?"
+
+Trevison told him, and Levins grumbled. "Corrigan'll have his deputies
+guardin' the courthouse, most likely. If you run ag'in 'em, they'll bore
+you, sure as hell!"
+
+"I'll take care of myself--I promise you that!" he laughed, and the Judge
+shuddered at the sound. He vanished into the darkness of the ledge,
+returning presently with Nigger, led him down the slope, called a low
+"So-long" to the two watchers on the ledge, and rode away into the haze of
+the plains.
+
+Trevison rode fast, filled with a grim elation. He pitied the Judge. An
+error--a momentary weakening of moral courage--had plunged the jurist into
+the clutches of Corrigan; he could hardly be held responsible for what had
+transpired--he was a puppet in the hands of an unscrupulous schemer, with
+a threat of exposure hanging over him. No wonder he feared Corrigan!
+Trevison's thoughts grew bitter as they dwelt upon the big man; the old
+longing to come into violent physical contact with the other seized him,
+raged within him, brought a harsh laugh to his lips as he rode. But a
+greater passion than he felt for the Judge or Corrigan tugged at him as he
+urged the big black over the plains toward the twinkling lights of
+Manti--a fierce exultation which centered around Rosalind Benham. She had
+duped him, betrayed him to his enemy, had played with him--but she had
+lost!
+
+Yet the thought of his coming victory over her was poignantly
+unsatisfying. He tried to picture her--did picture her--receiving the news
+of Corrigan's defeat, and somehow it left him with a feeling of regret.
+The vengeful delight that he should have felt was absent--he felt sorry
+for her. He charged himself with being a fool for yielding to so strange a
+sentiment, but it lingered persistently. It fed his rage against Corrigan,
+however, doubled it, for upon him lay the blame.
+
+It was late when he reached the outskirts of Manti. He halted Nigger in
+the shadow of a shed a hundred yards or so down the track from the
+courthouse, dismounted and made his way cautiously down the railroad
+tracks. He was beyond the radius of the lights from various windows that
+he passed, but he moved stealthily, not knowing whether Corrigan had
+stationed guards about the courthouse, as Levins had warned. An instant
+after reaching a point opposite the courthouse he congratulated himself on
+his discretion, for he caught a glimmer of light at the edge of a window
+shade in the courthouse, saw several indistinct figures congregated at the
+side door, outside. He slipped behind a tool shed at the side of the
+track, and crouching there, watched and listened. A mumbling of voices
+reached him, but he could distinguish no word. But it was evident that the
+men outside were awaiting the reappearance of one of their number who had
+gone into the building.
+
+Trevison watched, impatiently. Then presently the side door opened,
+letting out a flood of light, which bathed the figures of the waiting men.
+Trevison scowled, for he recognized them as Corrigan's deputies. But he
+was not surprised, for he had half expected them to be hanging around the
+building. Two figures stepped down from the door as he watched, and he
+knew them for Corrigan and Gieger. Corrigan's voice reached him.
+
+"The lock on this door is broken. I had to kick it in this morning. One of
+you stay inside, here. The rest of you scatter and keep your eyes peeled.
+There's trickery afoot. Judge Lindman didn't go to Dry Bottom--the agent
+says he's sure of that because he saw every man that's got aboard a train
+here within the last twenty-four hours--and Judge Lindman wasn't among
+them! Levins was, though; he left on the one-thirty this morning and got
+back on the six-o'clock, tonight." He vanished into the darkness beyond
+the door, but called back: "I'll be within call. Don't be afraid to shoot
+if you see anything suspicious!"
+
+Trevison saw a man enter the building, and the light was blotted out by
+the closing of the door. When his eyes were again accustomed to the
+darkness he observed that the men were standing close together--they
+seemed to be holding a conference. Then the group split up, three going
+toward the front of the building; two remaining near the side door, and
+two others walking around to the rear.
+
+For an instant Trevison regretted that he had not taken Levins' advice
+about forming a posse of his own men to take the courthouse by storm, and
+he debated the thought of postponing action. But there was no telling what
+might happen during an interval of delay. In his rage over the discovery
+of the trick that had been played on him Corrigan might tear the interior
+of the building to pieces. He would be sure to if he suspected the
+presence of the original record. Trevison did not go for the help that
+would have been very welcome. Instead, he spent some time twirling the
+cylinder of his pistol.
+
+He grew tired of crouching after a time and lay flat on his stomach in the
+shadow of the tool shed, watching the men as they tramped back and forth,
+around the building. He knew that sooner or later there would be a minute
+or two of relaxation, and of this he had determined to take advantage. But
+it was not until sound in the town had perceptibly decreased in volume
+that there was any sign of the men relaxing their vigil. And then he noted
+them congregating at the front of the building.
+
+"Hell," he heard one of them say; "what's the use of hittin' that trail
+_all_ night! Bill's inside, an' we can see the door from here. I'm due for
+a smoke an' a palaver!" Matches flared up; the sounds of their voices
+reached Trevison.
+
+Trevison disappointedly relaxed. Then, filled with a sudden decision, he
+slipped around the back of the tool shed and stole toward the rear of the
+courthouse. It projected beyond the rear of the bank building, adjoining
+it, forming an L, into the shadow of which Trevison slipped. He stood
+there for an instant, breathing rapidly, undecided. The darkness in the
+shadow was intense, and he was forced to feel his way along the wall for
+fear of stumbling. He was leaning heavily on his hands, trusting to them
+rather than to his footing, when the wall seemed to give way under them
+and he fell forward, striking on his hands and knees. Fortunately, he had
+made no sound in falling, and he remained in the kneeling position until
+he got an idea of what had happened. He had fallen across the threshold of
+a doorway. The door had been unfastened and the pressure of his hands had
+forced it inward. It was the rear door of the bank building. He looked
+inward, wondering at Braman's carelessness--and stared fixedly straight
+into a beam of light that shone through a wedge-shaped crevice between two
+boards in the partition that separated the buildings.
+
+He got up silently, stepped stealthily into the room, closing the door
+behind him. He tried to fasten it and discovered that the lock was broken.
+For some time he stood, wondering, and then, giving it up, he made his way
+cautiously around the room, searching for Braman's cot. He found that,
+too, empty, and he decided that some one had broken into the building
+during Braman's absence. Moving away from the cot, he stumbled against
+something soft and yielding, and his pistol flashed into his hand in
+sinister preparation, for he knew from the feel of the soft object that it
+was a body, and he suspected that it was Braman, stalking him. He thought
+that until he remembered the broken lock, on the door, and then the
+significance of it burst upon him. Whoever had broken the lock had fixed
+Braman. He knelt swiftly and ran his hands over the prone form, drawing
+back at last with the low ejaculation: "He's a goner!" He had no time or
+inclination to speculate over the manner of Braman's death, and made
+catlike progress toward the crevice in the partition. Reaching it, he
+dropped on his hands and knees and peered through. A wooden box on the
+other side of the partition intervened, but above it he could see the form
+of the deputy. The man was stretched out in a chair, sideways to the
+crevice in the wall, sleeping. A grin of huge satisfaction spread over
+Trevison's face.
+
+His movements were very deliberate and cautious. But in a quarter of an
+hour he had pulled the board out until an opening was made in the
+partition, and then propping the board back with a chair he reached
+through and slowly shoved the box on the other side back far enough to
+admit his body. Crawling through, he rose on the other side, crossed the
+floor carefully, kneeled at the drawer where Judge Lindman had concealed
+the record, pulled it out and stuck it in the waistband of his trousers,
+in front, his eyes glittering with exultation. Then he began to back
+toward the opening in the partition. At the instant he was preparing to
+stoop to crawl back into the bank building, the deputy in the chair
+yawned, stretched and opened his eyes, staring stupidly at him. There was
+no mistaking the dancing glitter in Trevison's eyes, no possible
+misinterpretation of his tense, throaty whisper: "One chirp and you're a
+dead one!" And the deputy stiffened in the chair, dumb with astonishment
+and terror.
+
+The deputy had not seen the opening in the partition, for it was partly
+hidden from his view by the box which Trevison had encountered in
+entering, and before the man had an opportunity to look toward the place,
+Trevison commanded him again, in a sharp, cold whisper:
+
+"Get up and turn your back to me--quick! Any noise and I'll plug you!
+Move!"
+
+The deputy obeyed. Then he received an order to walk to the door without
+looking back. He readied the door--halted.
+
+"Now open it and get out!"
+
+The man did as bidden; diving headlong out into the darkness, swinging the
+door shut behind him. His yell to his companions mingled with the roar of
+Trevison's pistol as he shattered the kerosene lamp. The bullet hit the
+neck of the glass bowl, a trifle below the burner, the latter describing a
+parabola in the air and falling into the ruin of the bowl. The chimney
+crashed, the flame from the wick touched the oil and flared up
+brilliantly.
+
+Trevison was half way through the wall by the time the oil ignited, and he
+grinned coldly at the sight. Haste was important now. He slipped through
+the opening, pulled the chair from between the board and wall, letting the
+board snap back, and placing the chair against it. He felt certain that
+the deputies would think that in some manner he had run their barricade
+and entered the building through the door.
+
+He heard voices outside, a fusillade of shots, the tinkle of breaking
+glass; against the pine boards at his side came the wicked thud of
+bullets, the splintering of wood as they tore through the partition and
+embedded themselves in the outside wall. He ducked low and ran to the rear
+door, swinging it open. Braman's body bothered him; he could not leave it
+there, knowing the building would soon be in flames. He dragged the body
+outside, to a point several feet distant from the building, dropping it at
+last and standing erect for the first time to fill his lungs and look
+about him. Looking back as he ran down the tracks toward the shed where he
+had left Nigger, he saw shadowy forms of men running around the
+courthouse, which was now dully illuminated, the light from within dancing
+fitfully through the window shades. Flaming streaks rent the night from
+various points--thinking him still in the building the deputies were
+shooting through the windows. Manti, rudely awakened, was pouring its
+population through its doors in streams. Shouts, hoarse, inquisitive,
+drifted to Trevison's ears. Lights blazed up, flickering from windows like
+giant fireflies. Doors slammed, dogs were barking, men were running.
+Trevison laughed vibrantly as he ran. But his lips closed tightly when he
+saw two or three shadowy figures darting toward him, coming from various
+directions--one from across the street; another coming straight down the
+railroad track, still another advancing from his right. He bowed his head
+and essayed to pass the first figure. It reached out a hand and grasped
+his shoulder, arresting his flight.
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Let go, you damned fool!"
+
+The man still clung to him. Trevison wrenched himself free and struck,
+viciously. The man dropped with a startled cry. Another figure was upon
+Trevison. He wanted no more trouble at that minute.
+
+"Hell to pay!" he panted as the second man loomed close to him in the
+darkness; "Trevison's in the courthouse!"
+
+He heard the other gasp; saw him lunge forward. He struck again, bitterly,
+and the man went to his knees. He was up again instantly, as Trevison fled
+into the darkness, crying resonantly:
+
+"This way, boys--here he is!"
+
+"Corrigan!" breathed Trevison. He ducked as a flame-spurt split the night;
+reaching a corner of the shed where he had left his horse as a succession
+of reports rattled behind him. Corrigan was firing at him. He dared not
+use his own pistol, lest its flash reveal his whereabouts, and he knew he
+would have no chance against the odds that were against him. Nor was he
+intent on murder. He flung himself into the saddle, and for the first time
+since he had come into Trevison's possession Nigger knew the bite of spurs
+earnestly applied. He snorted, leaped, and plunged forward, the clatter of
+his hoofs bringing lancelike streaks of fire out of the surrounding
+blackness. Behind him Trevison heard Corrigan raging impotently,
+profanely. There came another scattering volley. Trevison reeled, caught
+himself, and then hung hard to the saddle-horn, as Nigger fled into the
+night, running as a coyote runs from the daylight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+ANOTHER WOMAN LIES
+
+
+Shortly before midnight Aunt Agatha Benham laid her book down, took off
+her glasses, wiped her eyes and yawned. She sat for a time stretched out
+in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, meditatively looking at the
+flicker of the kerosene lamp, thinking of the conveniences she had given
+up in order to chaperon a wilful girl who did not appreciate her services.
+It was the selfishness of youth, she decided--nothing less. But still
+Rosalind might understand what a sacrifice her aunt was making for her.
+Thrilling with self-pity, she got up, blew out the light and ascended the
+stairs to her room. She plumped herself in a chair at one of the front
+windows before beginning to undress, that she might again feel the
+delicious thrill, for that was the only consolation she got from a
+contemplation of her sacrifice, Rosalind never offered her a word of
+gratitude!
+
+The thrill she anticipated was not the one she experienced--it was a
+thrill of apprehension that seized her--for a glowing midnight sky met her
+gaze as she stared in the direction of Manti, vast, extensive. In its
+center, directly over the town, was a fierce white glare with off-shoots
+of licking, leaping tongues of flame that reached skyward hungrily.
+
+Agatha watched for one startled instant, and then she was in Rosalind's
+room, leaning over the bed, shaking her. The girl got up, dressed in her
+night clothes, and together they stood at one of the windows in the girl's
+room, watching.
+
+The fierce white center of the fire seemed to expand.
+
+"It's a fire--in Manti!" said the girl. "See! Another building has caught!
+Oh, I _do_ hope they can put it out!"
+
+They stood long at the window. Once, when the glow grew more brilliant,
+the girl exclaimed sharply, but after a time the light began to fade, and
+she drew a breath of relief.
+
+"They have it under control," she said.
+
+"Well, come to bed," advised Agatha.
+
+"Wait!" said the girl. She pressed her face against the window and peered
+intently into the darkness. Then she threw up the sash, stuck her head out
+and listened. She drew back, her face slowly whitening.
+
+"Some one is coming, Aunty--and riding very fast!"
+
+A premonition of tragedy, associated with the fire, had seized the girl at
+her first glimpse of the light, though she had said nothing. The
+appearance of a rider, approaching the house at breakneck speed had added
+strength to her fears, and now, driven by the urge of apprehension that
+had seized her she flitted out of the room before Agatha could restrain
+her, and was down in the sitting-room in an instant, applying a match to
+the lamp. As the light flared up she heard the thunder of hoofs just
+outside the door, and she ran to it, throwing it open. She shrank back,
+drawing her breath gaspingly, for the rider had dismounted and stepped
+toward her, into the dim light of the open doorway.
+
+"You!" she said.
+
+A low laugh was her answer, and Trevison stepped over the threshold and
+closed the door behind him. From the foot of the stairs Agatha saw him,
+and she stood, nerveless and shaking with dread over the picture he made.
+
+He had been more than forty-eight hours without sleep, the storm-center of
+action had left its impression on him, and his face was gaunt and haggard,
+with great, dark hollows under his eyes. The three or four days' growth of
+beard accentuated the bold lines of his chin and jaw; his eyes were
+dancing with the fires of passion; he held a Winchester rifle under his
+right arm, the left, hanging limply at his side, was stained darkly. He
+swayed as he stood looking at the girl, and smiled with faint derision at
+the naked fear and wonder that had leaped into her eyes. But the derision
+was tinged with bitterness, for this girl with both hands pressed over her
+breast, heaving with the mingled emotions of modesty and dismay, was one
+of the chief factors in the scheme to rob him. The knowledge hurt him
+worse than the bullet which had passed through his arm. She had been
+uppermost in his thoughts during his reckless ride from Manti, and he
+would have cheerfully given his land, his ten years of labor, for the
+assurance that she was innocent. But he knew guilt when he saw it, and
+proof of it had been in her avoidance of him, in her ride to save
+Corrigan's mining machinery, in her subsequent telling of his presence at
+the butte on the night of the dynamiting, in her bitter declaration that
+he ought to be punished for it. The case against her was strong. And yet
+on his ride from Manti he had been irresistibly drawn toward the Bar B
+ranchhouse. He had told himself as he rode that the impulse to visit her
+this night was strong within him because on his way to the pueblo he was
+forced to pass the house, but he knew better--he had lied to himself. He
+wanted to talk with her again; he wanted to show her the land record,
+which proved her fiance's guilt; he wanted to watch her as she looked at
+the record, to learn from her face--what he might find there.
+
+He stood the rifle against the wall near the door, while the girl and her
+aunt watched him, breathlessly. His voice was vibrant and hoarse, but well
+under control, and he smiled with straight lips as he set the rifle down
+and drew the record from his waistband.
+
+"I've something to show you, Miss Benham. I couldn't pass the house
+without letting you know what has happened." He opened the book and
+stepped to her side, swinging his left hand up, the index finger
+indicating a page on which his name appeared.
+
+"Look!" he said, sharply, and watched her face closely. He saw her cheeks
+blanch, and set his lips grimly.
+
+"Why," she said, after she had hurriedly scanned the page; "it seems to
+prove your title! But this is a court record, isn't it?" She examined the
+gilt lettering on the back of the volume, and looked up at him with wide,
+luminous eyes. "Where did you get that book?"
+
+"From the courthouse."
+
+"Why, I thought people weren't permitted to take court records--"
+
+"I've taken this one," he laughed.
+
+She looked at the blood on his hand, shudderingly. "Why," she said;
+"there's been violence! The fire, the blood on your hand, the record, your
+ride here--What does it mean?"
+
+"It means that I've been denied my rights, and I've taken them. Is there
+any crime in that? Look here!" He took another step and stood looking down
+at her. "I'm not saying anything about Corrigan. You know what we think of
+each other, and we'll fight it out, man to man. But the fact that a woman
+is engaged to one man doesn't bar another man from the game. And I'm in
+this game to the finish. And even if I don't get you I don't want you to
+be mixed up in these schemes and plots--you're too good a girl for that!"
+
+"What do you mean?" She stiffened, looking scornfully at him, her chin
+held high, outraged innocence in her manner. His cold grin of frank
+disbelief roused her to furious indignation. What right had he to question
+her integrity to make such speeches to her after his disgraceful affair
+with Hester Harvey?
+
+"I do not care to discuss the matter with you!" she said, her lips stiff.
+
+"Ha, ha!" The bitter derision in his laugh made her blood riot with
+hatred. He walked toward the door and took up the rifle, dimly remembering
+she had used the same words to him once before, when he had met her as she
+had been riding toward Manti. Of course she wouldn't discuss such a
+thing--he had been a blind fool to think she would. But it proved her
+guilt. Swinging the rifle under his arm, he opened the door, turned when
+on the threshold and bowed to her.
+
+"I'm sorry I troubled you, Miss Benham," he said. He essayed to turn,
+staggered, looked vacantly around the room, his lips in a queerly cold
+half-smile, and then without uttering a sound pitched forward, one
+shoulder against the door jamb, and slid slowly to his knees, where he
+rested, his head sinking limply to his chest. He heard the girl cry out
+sharply and he raised his head with an effort and smiled reassuringly at
+her, and when he felt her hands on his arm, trying to lift him, he laughed
+aloud in self-derision and got to his feet, hanging to the door jamb.
+
+"I'm sorry, Miss Benham," he mumbled. "I lost some blood, I suppose.
+Rotten luck, isn't it. I shouldn't have stopped." He turned to go, lurched
+forward and would have fallen out of the door had not the girl seized and
+steadied him.
+
+He did not resist when she dragged him into the room and closed the door,
+but he waved her away when she tried to take his arm and lead him toward
+the kitchen where, she insisted, she would prepare a stimulant and food
+for him. He tottered after her, tall and gaunt, his big, lithe figure
+strangely slack, his head rocking, the room whirling around him. He had
+held to the record and the rifle; the latter by the muzzle, dragging it
+after him, the record under his arm.
+
+But his marvelous constitution, a result of his clean living and outdoor
+life, responded quickly to the stimulation of food and hot drinks, and in
+half an hour he got up, still a little weak, but with some color in his
+cheeks, and shame-facedly thanked the girl. He realized now, that he
+should not have come here; the past few hours loomed in his thoughts like
+a wild nightmare in which he had lost his sense of proportion, yielding to
+the elemental passions that had been aroused in his long, sleepless
+struggle, making him act upon impulses that he would have frowned
+contemptuously away in a normal frame of mind.
+
+"I've been nearly crazy, I think," he said to the girl with a wan smile of
+self-accusation. "I want you to forget what I said."
+
+"What happened at Manti?" she demanded, ignoring his words.
+
+He laughed at the recollection, tucking his rifle under his arm,
+preparatory to leaving. "I went after the record. I got it. There was a
+fight. But I got away."
+
+"But the fire!"
+
+"I was forced to smash a lamp in the courthouse. The wick fell into the
+oil, and I couldn't delay to--"
+
+"Was anybody hurt--besides you?"
+
+"Braman's dead." The girl gasped and shrank from him, and he saw that she
+believed he had killed the banker, and he was about to deny the crime when
+Agatha's voice shrilled through the doorway:
+
+"There are some men coming, Rosalind!" And then, vindictively: "I presume
+they are desperadoes--too!"
+
+"Deputies!" said Trevison. The girl clasped her hands over her breast in
+dismay, which changed to terror when she saw Trevison stiffen and leap
+toward the door. She was afraid for him, horrified over this second
+lawless deed, dumb with doubt and indecision--and she didn't want them to
+catch him!
+
+He opened the door, paused on the threshold and smiled at her with
+straight, hard lips.
+
+"Braman was--"
+
+"Go!" she cried in a frenzy of anxiety; "go!"
+
+He laughed mockingly, and looked at her intently. "I suppose I will never
+understand women. You are my enemy, and yet you give me food and drink and
+are eager to have me escape your accomplice. Don't you know that this
+record will ruin him?"
+
+"Go, go!" she panted.
+
+"Well, you're a puzzle!" he said. She saw him leap into the saddle, and
+she ran to the lamp, blew out the flame, and returned to the open door, in
+which she stood for a long time, listening to rapid hoof beats that
+gradually receded. Before they died out entirely there came the sound of
+many others, growing in volume and drawing nearer, and she beat her hands
+together, murmuring:
+
+"Run, Nigger--run, run, run!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+She closed the door as the hoof beats sounded in the yard, locking it and
+retreating to the foot of the stairs, where Agatha stood.
+
+"What does it all mean?" asked the elder woman. She was trembling.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," whispered the girl, gulping hard to keep her voice
+from breaking. "It's something about Trevison's land. And I'm afraid,
+Aunty, that there is something terribly wrong. Mr. Corrigan says it
+belongs to him, and the court in Manti has decided in his favor. But
+according to the record in Trevison's possession, _he_ has a clear title
+to it."
+
+"There, there," consoled Agatha; "your father wouldn't permit--"
+
+"No, no!" said the girl, vehemently; "he wouldn't. But I can't understand
+why Trevison fights so hard if--if he is in the wrong!"
+
+"He is a desperado, my dear; a wild, reckless spirit who has no regard for
+law and order. Of course, if these men are after him, you will tell them
+he was here!"
+
+"No!" said the girl, sharply; "I shan't!"
+
+"Perhaps you shouldn't," acquiesced Agatha. She patted the girl's
+shoulder. "Maybe it would be for the best, dear--he may be in the right.
+And I think I understand why you went riding with him so much, dear. He
+may be wild and reckless, but he's a man--every inch of him!"
+
+The girl squeezed her relative's hand and went to open the door, upon
+which had come a loud knock. Corrigan stood framed in the opening. She
+could see his face only dimly.
+
+"There's no occasion for alarm, Miss Benham," he said, and she felt that
+he could see her better than she could see him, and thus must have
+discerned something of her emotion. "I must apologize for this noisy
+demonstration. I believe I'm a little excited, though. Has Trevison passed
+here within the last hour or so?"
+
+"No," she said, firmly.
+
+He laughed shortly. "Well, we'll get him. I've split my men up--some have
+gone to his ranch, the others have headed for Levins' place."
+
+"What has happened?"
+
+"Enough. Judge Lindman disappeared--the supposition is that he was
+abducted. I placed some men around the courthouse, to safeguard the
+records, and Trevison broke in and set fire to the place. He also robbed
+the safe in the bank, and killed Braman--choked him to death. A most
+revolting murder. I'm sorry I disturbed you--good night."
+
+The girl closed the door as he left it, and leaned against it, weak and
+shaking. Corrigan's voice had a curious note in it. He had told her he was
+sorry to have disturbed her, but the words had not rung true--there had
+been too much satisfaction in them. What was she to believe from this
+night's events? One thought leaped vividly above the others that rioted in
+her mind: Trevison had again sinned against the law, and this time his
+crime was murder! She shrank away from the door and joined Agatha at the
+foot of the stairs.
+
+"Aunty," she sobbed; "I want to go away. I want to go back East, away from
+this lawlessness and confusion!"
+
+"There, there, dear," soothed Agatha. "I am sure everything will come out
+all right. But Trevison _does_ look to be the sort of a man who would
+abduct a judge, doesn't he? If I were a girl, and felt that he were in
+love with me, I'd be mighty careful--"
+
+"That he wouldn't abduct you?" laughed the girl, tremulously, cheered by
+the change in her relative's manner.
+
+"No," said Agatha, slyly. "I'd be mighty careful that he _got_ me!"
+
+"Oh!" said the girl, and buried her face in her aunt's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+IN THE DARK
+
+
+Trevison faced the darkness between him and the pueblo with a wild hope
+pulsing through his veins. Rosalind Benham had had an opportunity to
+deliver him into the hands of his enemy and she had not taken advantage of
+it. There was but one interpretation that he might place upon her failure
+to aid her accomplice. She declined to take an active part in the scheme.
+She had been passive, content to watch while Corrigan did the real work.
+Possibly she had no conception of the enormity of the crime. She had been
+eager to have Corrigan win, and influenced by her affection and his
+arguments she had done what she could without actually committing herself
+to the robbery. It was a charitable explanation, and had many flaws, but
+he clung to it persistently, nurturing it with his hopes and his hunger
+for her, building it up until it became a structure of logic firmly fixed
+and impregnable. Women were easily influenced--that had been his
+experience with them--he was forced to accept it as a trait of the sex. So
+he absolved her, his hunger for her in no way sated at the end.
+
+His thoughts ran to Corrigan in a riot of rage that pained him like a
+knife thrust; his lust for vengeance was a savage, bitter-visaged demon
+that held him in its clutch and made his temples pound with a yearning to
+slay. And that, of course, would have to be the end. For the enmity that
+lay between them was not a thing to be settled by the law--it was a man to
+man struggle that could be settled in only one way--by the passions,
+naked, elemental, eternal. He saw it coming; he leaped to meet it,
+eagerly.
+
+Every stride the black horse made shortened by that much the journey he
+had resolved upon, and Nigger never ran as he was running now. The black
+seemed to feel that he was on the last lap of a race that had lasted for
+more than forty-eight hours, with short intervals of rest between, and he
+did his best without faltering.
+
+Order had come out of the chaos of plot and counterplot; Trevison's course
+was to be as direct as his hatred. He would go to the pueblo, take Judge
+Lindman and the record to Santa Fe, and then return to Manti for a last
+meeting with Corrigan.
+
+A late moon, rising from a cleft in some distant mountains, bathed the
+plains with a silvery flood when horse and rider reached a point within a
+mile of the pueblo, and Nigger covered the remainder of the distance at a
+pace that made the night air drum in Trevison's ears. The big black slowed
+as he came to a section of broken country surrounding the ancient city,
+but he got through it quickly and skirted the sand slopes, taking the
+steep acclivity leading to the ledge of the pueblo in a dozen catlike
+leaps and coming to a halt in the shadow of an adobe house, heaving
+deeply, his rider flung himself out of the saddle and ran along the ledge
+to the door of the chamber where he had imprisoned Judge Lindman.
+
+Trevison could see no sign of the Judge or Levins. The ledge was bare,
+aglow, the openings of the communal houses facing it loomed dark, like the
+doors of tombs. A ghastly, unearthly silence greeted Trevison's call after
+the echoes died away; the upper tier of adobe boxes seemed to nod in
+ghostly derision as his gaze swept them. There was no sound, no movement,
+except the regular cough of his own laboring lungs, and the rustle of his
+clothing as his chest swelled and deflated with the effort. He exclaimed
+impatiently and retraced his steps, peering into recesses between the
+communal houses, certain that the Judge and Levins had fallen asleep in
+his absence. He turned at a corner and in a dark angle almost stumbled
+over Levins. He was lying on his stomach, his right arm under his head,
+his face turned sideways. Trevison thought at first that he was asleep and
+prodded him gently with the toe of his boot. A groan smote his ears and he
+kneeled quickly, turning Levins over. Something damp and warm met his
+fingers as he seized the man by the shoulder, and he drew the hand away
+quickly, exclaiming sharply as he noted the stain on it.
+
+His exclamation brought Levins' eyes open, and he stared upward, stupidly
+at first, then with a bright gaze of comprehension. He struggled and sat
+up, swaying from side to side.
+
+"They got the Judge, 'Brand'--they run him off, with my cayuse!"
+
+"Who got him?"
+
+"I ain't reckonin' to know. Some of Corrigan's scum, most likely--I didn't
+see 'em close."
+
+"How long ago?"
+
+"Not a hell of a while. Mebbe fifteen or twenty minutes. I been missin' a
+lot of time, I reckon. Can't have been long, though."
+
+"Which way did they go?"
+
+"Off towards Manti. Two of 'em took him. The rest is layin' low somewhere,
+most likely. Watch out they don't get _you_! I ain't seen 'em run off,
+yet!"
+
+"How did it happen?"
+
+"I ain't got it clear in my head, yet. Just happened, I reckon. The Judge
+was settin' on the ledge just in front of the dobie house you had him in.
+I was moseyin' along the edge, tryin' to figger out what a light in the
+sky off towards Manti meant. I couldn't figger it out--what in hell was
+it, anyway?"
+
+"The courthouse burned--maybe the bank."
+
+Levins chuckled. "You got the record, then."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"An' I've lost the Judge! Ain't I a box-head, though!"
+
+"That's all right. Go ahead. What happened?"
+
+"I was moseyin along the ledge. Just when I got to the slope where we come
+up--passin' it--I seen a bunch of guys, on horses, coming out of the
+shadow of an angle, down there. I hadn't seen 'em before. I knowed
+somethin' was up an' I turned, to light out for shelter. An' just then one
+of 'em burns me in the back--with a rifle bullet. It couldn't have been no
+six, from that distance. It took the starch out of me, an' I caved, I
+reckon, for a little while. When I woke up the Judge was gone. The moon
+had just come up an' I seen him ridin' away on my cayuse, between two
+other guys. I reckon I must have gone off again, when you shook me." He
+laughed, weakly. "What gets _me_, is where them other guys went, after the
+two sloped with the Judge. If they'd have been hangin' around they'd sure
+have got _you_, comin' up here, wouldn't they?"
+
+Trevison's answer was a hoarse exclamation. He swung Levins up and bore
+him into one of the communal houses, whose opening faced away from the
+plains and the activity. Then he ran to where he had left Nigger, leading
+the animal back into the zig-zag passages, pulling his rifle out of the
+saddle holster and stationing himself in the shadow of the house in which
+he had taken Levins.
+
+"They've come back, eh?" the wounded man's voice floated out to him.
+
+"Yes--five or six of them. No--eight! They've got sharp eyes, too!" he
+added stepping back as a rifle bullet droned over his head, chipping a
+chunk of adobe from the roof of the box in whose shelter he stood.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sullenly, Corrigan had returned to Manti with the deputies that had
+accompanied him to the Bar B. He had half expected to find Trevison at the
+ranchhouse, for he had watched him when he had ridden away and he seemed
+to have been headed in that direction. Jealousy dwelt darkly in the big
+man's heart, and he had found his reason for the suspicion there. He
+thought he knew truth when he saw it, and he would have sworn that truth
+shone from Rosalind Benham's eyes when she had told him that she had not
+seen Trevison pass that way. He had not known that what he took for the
+truth was the cleverest bit of acting the girl had ever been called upon
+to do. He had decided that Trevison had swung off the Bar B trail
+somewhere between Manti and the ranchhouse, and he led his deputies back
+to town, content to permit his men to continue the search for Trevison,
+for he was convinced that the latter's visit to the courthouse had
+resulted in disappointment, for he had faith in Judge Lindman's
+declaration that he had destroyed the record. He had accused himself many
+times for his lack of caution in not being present when the record had
+been destroyed, but regrets had become impotent and futile.
+
+Reaching Manti, he dispersed his deputies and sought his bed in the
+_Castle_. He had not been in bed more than an hour when an attendant of
+the hotel called to him through the door that a man named Gieger wanted to
+talk with him, below. He dressed and went down to the street, to find
+Gieger and another deputy sitting on their horses in front of the hotel
+with Judge Lindman, drooping from his long vigil, between them.
+
+Corrigan grinned scornfully at the Judge.
+
+"Clever, eh?" he sneered. He spoke softly, for the dawn was not far away,
+and he knew that a voice carries resonantly at that hour.
+
+"I don't understand you!" Judicial dignity sat sadly on the Judge; he was
+tired and haggard, and his voice was a weak treble. "If you mean--"
+
+"I'll show you what I mean." Corrigan motioned to the deputies. "Bring him
+along!" Leading the way he took them through Manti's back door across a
+railroad spur to a shanty beside the track which the engineer in charge of
+the dam occasionally occupied when his duty compelled him to check up
+arriving material and supplies. Because plans and other valuable papers
+were sometimes left in the shed it was stoutly built, covered with
+corrugated iron, and the windows barred with iron, prison-like. Reaching
+the shed, Corrigan unlocked the door, shoved the Judge inside, closed the
+door on the Judge's indignant protests, questioned the deputies briefly,
+gave them orders and then re-entered the shed, closing the door behind
+him.
+
+He towered over the Judge, who had sunk weakly to a bench. It was pitch
+dark in the shed, but Corrigan had seen the Judge drop on the bench and
+knew exactly where he was.
+
+"I want the whole story--without any reservations," said Corrigan,
+hoarsely; "and I want it quick--as fast as you can talk!"
+
+The Judge got up, resenting the other's tone. He had also a half-formed
+resolution to assert his independence, for he had received certain
+assurances from Trevison with regard to his past which had impressed
+him--and still impressed him.
+
+"I refuse to be questioned by you, sir--especially in this manner! I do
+not purpose to take further--"
+
+The Judge felt Corrigan's fingers at his throat, and gasped with horror,
+throwing up his hands to ward them off, failed, and heard Corrigan's laugh
+as the fingers gripped his throat and held.
+
+When the Judge came to, it was with an excruciatingly painful struggle
+that left him shrinking and nerveless, lying in a corner, blinking at the
+light of a kerosene lamp. Corrigan sat on the edge of a flat-topped desk
+watching him with an ugly, appraising, speculative grin. It was as though
+the man were mentally gambling on his chances to recover from the
+throttling.
+
+"Well," he said when the Judge at last struggled and sat up; "how do you
+like it? You'll get more if you don't talk fast and straight! Who wrote
+that letter, from Dry Bottom?"
+
+Neither judicial dignity or resolutions of independence could resist the
+threatened danger of further violence that shone from Corrigan's eyes, and
+the Judge whispered gaspingly:
+
+"Trevison."
+
+"I thought so! Now, be careful how you answer this. What did Trevison want
+in the courthouse?"
+
+"The original record of the land transfers."
+
+"Did he get it?" Corrigan's voice was dangerously even, and the Judge
+squirmed and coughed before he spoke the hesitating word that was an
+admission of his deception:
+
+"I told him--where--it was."
+
+Paralyzed with fear, the Judge watched Corrigan slip off the desk and
+approach him. He got to his feet and raised his hands to shield his throat
+as the big man stopped in front of him.
+
+"Don't, Corrigan--don't, for God's sake!"
+
+"Bah!" said the big man. He struck, venomously. An instant later he put
+out the light and stepped down into the gray dawn, locking the door of the
+shanty behind him and not looking back.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE ASHES
+
+
+Rosalind Benham got up with the dawn and looked out of a window toward
+Manti. She had not slept. She stood at the window for some time and then
+returned to the bed and sat on its edge, staring thoughtfully downward.
+She could not get Trevison out of her mind. It seemed to her that a crisis
+had come and that it was imperative for her to reach a decision--to
+pronounce judgment. She was trying to do this calmly; she was trying to
+keep sentiment from prejudicing her. She found it difficult when
+considering Trevison, but when she arrayed Hester Harvey against her
+longing for the man she found that her scorn helped her to achieve a
+mental balance that permitted her to think of him almost dispassionately.
+She became a mere onlooker, with a calm, clear vision. In this rôle she
+weighed him. His deeds, his manner, his claims, she arrayed against
+Corrigan and his counter-claims and ambitions, and was surprised to
+discover that were she to be called upon to pass judgment on the basis of
+this surface evidence she would have decided in favor of Trevison. She had
+fought against that, for it was a tacit admission that her father was in
+some way connected with Corrigan's scheme, but she admitted it finally,
+with a pulse of repugnance, and when she placed Levins' story on the
+mental balance, with the knowledge that she had seen the record which
+seemed to prove the contention of fraud in the land transaction, the
+evidence favored Trevison overwhelmingly.
+
+She got up and began to dress, her lips set with determination. Corrigan
+had held her off once with plausible explanations, but she would not
+permit him to do so again. She intended to place the matter before her
+father. Justice must be done. Before she had half finished dressing she
+heard a rustle and turned to see Agatha standing in the doorway connecting
+their rooms.
+
+"What is it, dear?"
+
+"I can't stand the suspense any longer, Aunty. There is something very
+wrong about that land business. I am going to telegraph to father about
+it."
+
+"I was going to ask you to do that, dear. It seems to me that that young
+Trevison is too much in earnest to be fighting for something that does not
+belong to him. If ever there was honesty in a man's face it was in his
+face last night. I don't believe for a minute that your father is
+concerned in Corrigan's schemes--if there are schemes. But it won't do any
+harm to learn what your father thinks about it. My dear--" she stepped to
+the girl and placed an arm around her waist "--last night as I watched
+Trevison, he reminded me of a--a very dear friend that I once knew. I saw
+the wreck of my own romance, my dear. He was just such a man as
+Trevison--reckless, impulsive, and impetuous--dare-devil who would not
+tolerate injustice or oppression. They wouldn't let me have him, my dear,
+and I never would have another man. He went away, joined the army, and was
+killed at the battle of Kenesaw Mountain. I have kept his memory fresh in
+my heart, and last night when I looked at Trevison it seemed to me that he
+must be the reincarnation of the only man I ever loved. There must be
+something terribly wrong to make him act the way he does, my dear. And he
+loves you."
+
+The girl bit her lips to repress the swelling emotions which clamored in
+wild response to this sympathetic understanding. She looked at Agatha, to
+see tears in her eyes, and she wheeled impulsively and threw her arms
+around the other's neck.
+
+"Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Aunty. But--" she gulped "--he doesn't
+love me."
+
+"I saw it in his eyes, my dear." Agatha's smile was tender and
+reminiscent. "Don't you worry. He will find a way to let you know--as he
+will find a way to beat Corrigan--if Corrigan is trying to defraud him!
+He's that kind, my dear!"
+
+In spite of her aunt's assurances the girl's heart was heavy as she began
+her ride to Manti. Trevison might love her,--she had read that it was
+possible for a man to love two women--but she could never return his love,
+knowing of his affair with Hester. He should have justice, however, if
+they were trying to defraud him of his rights!
+
+Long before she reached Manti she saw the train from Dry Bottom, due at
+Manti at six o'clock, gliding over the plains toward the town, and when
+she arrived at the station its passengers had been swallowed by Manti's
+buildings and the station agent and an assistant were dragging and bumping
+trunks and boxes over the station platform.
+
+The agent bowed deferentially to her and followed her into the telegraph
+room, clicking her message over the wires as soon as she had written it.
+When he had finished he wheeled his chair and grinned at her.
+
+"See the courthouse and the bank?"
+
+She had--all that was left of them--black, charred ruins with two iron
+safes, red from their baptism of fire, standing among them. Also two other
+buildings, one on each side of the two that had been destroyed, scorched
+and warped, but otherwise undamaged.
+
+"Come pretty near burning the whole town. It took _some_ work to confine
+_that_ fire--coal oil. Trevison did a clean job. Robbed the safe in the
+bank. Killed Braman--guzzled him. An awful complete job, from Trevison's
+viewpoint. The town's riled, and I wouldn't give a plugged cent for
+Trevison's chances. He's sloped. Desperate character--I always thought
+he'd rip things loose--give him time. It was him blowed up Corrigan's
+mine. I ain't seen Corrigan since last night, but I heard him and twenty
+or thirty deputies are on Trevison's trail. I hope they get him." He
+squinted at her. "There's trouble brewing in this town, Miss Benham. I
+wouldn't advise you to stay here any longer than is _absolutely_
+necessary. There's two factions--looks like. It's about that land deal.
+Lefingwell and some more of them think they've been given a raw decision
+by the court and Corrigan. Excitement! Oh, Lord! This town is fierce. I
+ain't had any sleep in--Your answer? I can't tell. Mebbe right away. Mebbe
+in an hour."
+
+Rosalind went out upon the platform. The agent's words had revived a
+horror that she had almost forgotten--that she wanted to forget--the
+murder of Braman.
+
+She walked to the edge of the station platform, tortured by thoughts in
+which she could find no excuse for Trevison. Murderer and robber! A
+fugitive from justice--the very justice he had been demanding! Her
+thoughts made her weak and sick, and she stepped down from the platform
+and walked up the track, halting beside a shed and leaning against it.
+Across the street from her was the _Castle_ hotel. A man in boots,
+corduroy trousers, and a flannel shirt and dirty white apron, his sleeves
+rolled to the elbows, was washing the front windows and spitting streams
+of tobacco juice on the board walk. She shivered. A grocer next to the
+hotel was adjusting a swinging shelf affixed to the store-front,
+preparatory to piling his wares upon it; a lean-faced man standing in a
+doorway in the building adjoining the grocery was inspecting a six-shooter
+that he had removed from the holster at his side. Rosalind shivered again.
+Civilization and outlawry were strangely mingled here. She would not have
+been surprised to see the lean-faced man begin to shoot at the others.
+Filled with sudden trepidation she took a step away from the shed,
+intending to return to the station and wait for her answer.
+
+As she moved she heard a low moan. She started, paling, and then stood
+stock still, trembling with dread, but determined not to run. The sound
+came again, seeming to issue from the interior of the shed, and she
+retraced her step and leaned again against the wall of the building,
+listening.
+
+There was no mistaking the sound--someone was in trouble. But she wanted
+to be certain before calling for help and she listened again to hear an
+unmistakable pounding on the wall near her, and a voice, calling
+frenziedly: "Help, help--for God's sake!"
+
+Her fears fled and she sprang to the door, finding it locked. She rattled
+it, impotently, and then left it and ran across the street to where the
+window-washer stood. He wheeled and spat copiously, almost in her face, as
+she rapidly told him her news, and then deliberately dropped his brush and
+cloth into the dust and mud at his feet and jumped after her, across the
+street.
+
+"Who's in here?" demanded the man, hammering on the door.
+
+"It's I--Judge Lindman! Open the door! Hurry! I'm smothering--and hurt!"
+
+In what transpired within the next few minutes--and indeed during the
+hours following--the girl felt like an outsider. No one paid any attention
+to her; she was shoved, jostled, buffeted, by the crowd that gathered,
+swarming from all directions. But she was intensely interested.
+
+It seemed to her that every person in Manti gathered in front of the
+shed--that all had heard of the abduction of the Judge. Some one secured
+an iron bar and battered the lock off the door; a half-dozen men dragged
+the Judge out, and he stood in front of the building, swaying in the hands
+of his supporters, his white hair disheveled, his lips blood-stained and
+smashed, where Corrigan had hit him. The frenzy of terror held him, and he
+looked wildly around at the tiers of faces confronting him, the cords of
+his neck standing out and writhing spasmodically. Twice he opened his lips
+to speak, but each time his words died in a dry gasp. At the third effort
+he shrieked:
+
+"I--I want protection! Don't let him touch me again, men! He means to kill
+me! Don't let him touch me! I--I've been attacked--choked--knocked
+insensible! I appeal to you as American citizens for protection!"
+
+It was fear, stark, naked, cringing, that the crowd saw. Faces blanched,
+bodies stiffened; a concerted breath, like a sigh, rose into the flat,
+desert air. Rosalind clenched her hands and stood rigid, thrilling with
+pity.
+
+"Who done it?" A dozen voices asked the question.
+
+"Corrigan!" The Judge screamed this, hysterically. "He is a thief and a
+scoundrel, men! He has plundered this county! He has prostituted your
+court. Your judge, too! I admit it. But I ask your mercy, men! I was
+forced into it! He threatened me! He falsified the land records! He wanted
+me to destroy the original record, but I didn't--I told Trevison where it
+was--I hid it! And because I wouldn't help Corrigan to rob you, he tried
+to kill me!"
+
+A murmur, low, guttural, vindictive, rippled over the crowd, which had now
+swelled to such proportions that the street could not hold it. It fringed
+the railroad track; men were packed against the buildings surrounding the
+shed; they shoved, jostled and squirmed in an effort to get closer to the
+Judge. The windows of the _Castle_ hotel were filled with faces, among
+which Rosalind saw Hester Harvey's, ashen, her eyes aglow.
+
+The Judge's words had stabbed Rosalind--each like a separate knife-thrust;
+they had plunged her into a mental vacuum in which her brain, atrophied,
+reeled, paralyzed. She staggered--a man caught her, muttered something
+about there being too much excitement for a lady, and gruffly ordered
+others to clear the way that he might lead her out of the jam. She
+resisted, for she was determined to stay to hear the Judge to the end, and
+the man grinned hugely at her; and to escape the glances that she could
+feel were directed at her she slipped through the crowd and sought the
+front of the shed, leaning against it, weakly.
+
+A silence had followed the murmur that had run over the crowd. There was a
+breathless period, during which every man seemed to be waiting for his
+neighbor to take the initiative. They wanted a leader. And he appeared,
+presently--a big, broad-shouldered man forced his way through the crowd
+and halted in front of the Judge.
+
+"I reckon we'll protect you, Judge. Just spit out what you got to say.
+We'll stand by you. Where's Trevison?"
+
+"He came to the courthouse last night to get the record. I told him where
+it was. He forced me to go with him to an Indian pueblo, and he kept me
+there yesterday. He left me there last night with Clay Levins, while he
+came here to get the record."
+
+"Do you reckon he got it?"
+
+"I don't know. But from the way Corrigan acted last night--"
+
+"Yes, yes; he got it!"
+
+The words shifted the crowd's gaze to Rosalind, swiftly. The girl had
+hardly realized that she had spoken. Her senses, paralyzed a minute
+before, had received the electric shock of sympathy from a continued study
+of the Judge's face. She saw remorse on it, regret, shame, and the birth
+of a resolution to make whatever reparation that was within his power, at
+whatever cost. It was a weak face, but it was not vicious, and while she
+had been standing there she had noted the lines of suffering. It was not
+until the girl felt the gaze of many curious eyes on her that she realized
+she had committed herself, and her cheeks flamed. She set herself to face
+the stares; she must go on now.
+
+"It's Benham's girl!" she heard a man standing near her whisper hoarsely,
+and she faced them, her chin held high, a queer joy leaping in her heart.
+She knew at this minute that her sympathies had been with Trevison all
+along; that she had always suspected Corrigan, but had fought against the
+suspicion because of the thought that in some way her father might be
+dragged into the affair. It had been a cowardly attitude, and she was glad
+that she had shaken it off. As her brain, under the spur of the sudden
+excitement, resumed its function, her thoughts flitted to the agent's
+babble during the time she had been sending the telegram to her father.
+She talked rapidly, her voice carrying far:
+
+"Trevison got the record last night. He stopped at my ranch and showed it
+to me. I suppose he was going to the pueblo, expecting to meet Levins and
+Lindman there--"
+
+"By God!" The big, broad-shouldered man standing at Judge Lindman's side
+interrupted her. He turned and faced the crowd. "We're damned fools,
+boys--lettin' this thing go on like we have! Corrigan's took his deputies
+out, trailin' Trevison, chargin' him with murderin' Braman, when his real
+purpose is to get his claws on that record! Trevison's been fightin' our
+fight for us, an' we've stood around like a lot of gillies, lettin' him do
+it! It's likely that a man who'd cook up a deal like the Judge, here, says
+Corrigan has, would cook up another, chargin' Trevison with guzzlin' the
+banker. I've knowed Trevison a long time, boys, an' I don't believe he'd
+_guzzle_ anybody--he's too square a man for that!" He stood on his toes,
+raising his clenched hands, and bringing them down with a sweep of furious
+emphasis.
+
+The crowd swayed restlessly. Rosalind saw it split apart, men fighting to
+open a pathway for a woman. There were shouts of: "Open up, there!" "Let
+the lady through!" "Gangway!" "She's got somethin' to say!" And the girl
+caught her breath sharply, for she recognized the woman as Hester Harvey.
+
+It was some time before Hester reached the broad-shouldered man's side.
+There was a stain in each of her cheeks, but outwardly, at least, she
+showed none of the excitement that had seized the crowd; her movements
+were deliberate and there was a resolute set to her lips. She got through,
+finally, and halted beside the big man, the crowd closing up behind her.
+She was swallowed in it, lost to sight.
+
+"Lift her up, Lefingwell!" suggested a man on the outer fringe. "If she's
+got anything to say, let us all hear it!" The suggestion was caught up,
+insistently.
+
+"If you ain't got no objections, ma'am," said the big man. He stooped at
+her cold smile and swung her to his shoulder. She spoke slowly and
+distinctly, though there was a tremor in her voice:
+
+[Illustration: "YOU MEN ARE BLIND. CORRIGAN IS A CROOK WHO
+WILL STOP AT NOTHING."]
+
+"Trevison did not kill Braman--it was Corrigan. Corrigan was in my room in
+the _Castle_ last night just after dark. When he left, I watched him from
+my window, after putting out the light. He had threatened to kill Braman.
+I watched him cross the street and go around to the rear of the bank
+building. There was a light in the rear room of the bank. After a while
+Braman and Corrigan entered the banking room. The light from the rear room
+shone on them for an instant and I recognized them. They were at the safe.
+When they went out they left the safe door open. After a while the light
+went out and I saw Corrigan come from around the rear of the building,
+recross the street and come into the _Castle_. You men are blind. Corrigan
+is a crook who will stop at nothing. If you let him injure Trevison for a
+crime that Trevison did not commit you deserve to be robbed!"
+
+Lefingwell swung her down from his shoulder.
+
+"I reckon that cinches it, boys!" he bellowed over the heads of the men
+nearest him. "There ain't nothin' plainer! If we stand for this we're a
+bunch of cowardly coyotes that ain't fit to look Trevison in the face! I'm
+goin' to help him! Who's comin' along?"
+
+A chorus of shouts drowned his last words; the crowd was in motion, swift,
+with definite purpose. It melted, streaming off in all directions, like
+the sweep of water from a bursted dam. It broke at the doors of the
+buildings; it sought the stables. Men bearing rifles appeared in the
+street, mounting horses and congregating in front of the _Belmont_, where
+Lefingwell had gone. Other men, on the board sidewalk and in the dust of
+the street, were running, shouting, gesticulating. In an instant the town
+had become a bedlam of portentous force; it was the first time in its
+history that the people of Manti had looked with collective vision, and
+the girl reeled against the iron wall of the shed, appalled at the
+resistless power that had been set in motion. On a night when she sat on
+the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse she had looked toward Manti, thrilled
+over a pretty mental fancy. She had thought it all a game--wondrous,
+joyous, progressive. She had neglected to associate justice with it
+then--the inexorable rule of fairness under which every player of the game
+must bow. She brought it into use now, felt the spirit of it, saw the dire
+tragedy that its perversion portended, groaned, and covered her face with
+her hands.
+
+She looked around after a while. She saw Judge Lindman walking across the
+street toward the _Castle_, supported by two other men. A third followed;
+she did not know him, but Corrigan would have recognized him as the hotel
+clerk who had grown confidential upon a certain day. The girl heard his
+voice as he followed after the Judge and the others--raucous, vindictive:
+
+"We need men like Trevison in this town. We can get along without any
+Corrigans."
+
+She heard a voice behind her and she turned, swiftly, to see Hester Harvey
+walking toward her. She would have avoided the meeting, but she saw that
+Hester was intent on speaking and she drew herself erect, bowing to her
+with cold courtesy as the woman stopped within a step of her and smiled.
+
+"You look ready to flop into hysterics, dearie! Won't you come over to my
+room with me and have something to brace you up? A cup of tea?" she added
+with a laugh as Rosalind looked quickly at her. She did not seem to notice
+the stiffening of the girl's body, but linked her arm within her own and
+began to walk across the street. The girl was racked with emotion over the
+excitement of the morning, the dread of impending violence, and half
+frantic with anxiety over Trevison's safety. Hester's offense against her
+seemed vague and far, and very insignificant, relatively. She yearned to
+exchange confidences with somebody--anybody, and this woman, even though
+she were what she thought her, had a capacity for feeling, for sympathy.
+And she was very, very tired of it all.
+
+"It was fierce, wasn't it?" said Hester a few minutes later in the privacy
+of her room, as she balanced her cup and watched Rosalind as the girl ate,
+hungrily. "These sagebrush rough-necks out here will make Corrigan hump
+himself to keep out of their way. But he deserves it, the crook!"
+
+The girl looked curiously at the other, trying hard to reconcile the
+vindictiveness of these words and the woman's previous action in giving
+damaging testimony against Corrigan, with the significant fact that
+Corrigan had been in her room the night before, presumably as a guest.
+Hester caught the look and laughed. "Yes, dearie, he deserves it. How much
+do you know of what has been going on here?"
+
+"Very little, I am afraid."
+
+"Less than that, I suspect. I happen to know considerable, and I am going
+to tell you about it. My trip out here has been a sort of a wild-goose
+chase. I thought I wanted Trevison, but I've discovered I'm not badly hurt
+by his refusal to resume our old relations."
+
+The girl gasped and almost dropped her cup, setting it down slowly
+afterward and staring at her hostess with doubting, fearing, incredulous
+eyes.
+
+"Yes, dearie," laughed the other, with a trace of embarrassment; "you can
+trust your ears on that statement. To make certain, I'll repeat it: I am
+not very badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations. Do you
+know what that means? It means that he turned me down cold, dearie."
+
+"Do you mean--" began the girl, gripping the table edge.
+
+"I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over to Trevison's ranch he
+told me plainly that he didn't like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. He
+wouldn't kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way. He told me he'd
+got over it, the same as he'd got over his measles days--he'd outgrown it
+and was going to throw himself at the feet of another goddess. Oh, yes, he
+meant you!" she laughed, her voice a little too high, perhaps, with an odd
+note of bitterness in it. "Then, determined to blot my rival out, I lied
+about you. I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you were in the
+game to rob him of his land. Oh, I blackened you, dearie! It hurt him,
+too. For when a man like Trevison loves a woman--"
+
+"How could you!" said the girl, shuddering.
+
+"Please don't get dramatic," jeered the other. "The rules that govern the
+love game are very elastic--for some women. I played it strong, but there
+was no chance for me from the beginning. Trevison thinks you are
+Corrigan's trump card in this game. It _is_ a game, isn't it. But he loves
+you in spite of it all. He told me he'd go to the gallows for you. Aren't
+men the sillies! But just the same, dearie, we women like to hear them
+murmur those little heroic things, don't we? It was on the night I told
+him you'd told Corrigan about the dynamiting."
+
+"Oh!" said the girl.
+
+"That was my high card," laughed the woman, harshly. "He took it and
+derided me. I decided right then that I wouldn't play any more."
+
+"Then he didn't send for you?"
+
+"Corrigan did that, dearie."
+
+"You--you knew Corrigan before--before you came here?"
+
+"You _can_ guess intelligently, can't you?"
+
+"Corrigan planned it _all_?"
+
+"All." Hester watched as the girl bowed her head and sobbed convulsively.
+
+"What a brazen, crafty and unprincipled _thing_ Trevison must think me!"
+
+Hester reached out a hand and laid it on the girl's. "I--there was a time
+when I would have done murder to have him think of me as he thinks of you,
+dearie. He isn't for me, though, and I can't spoil any woman's happiness.
+There's little enough--but I'm not going to philosophize. I was going away
+without telling you this. I don't know why I am telling it now. I always
+was a little soft. But if you hadn't spoken as you did a while ago in that
+crowd--taking Trevison's end--I--I think you'd never have known. Somehow,
+it seemed you deserved him, dearie. And I couldn't bear to--to think of
+him facing any more disappointment. He--he took it so--"
+
+The girl looked up, to see the woman's eyes filling with a luminous mist.
+A quick conception of what this all meant to the woman thrilled the girl.
+She got up and walked to the woman's side. "I'm _so_ sorry, Hester," she
+said as her arms stole around the other's neck.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+She went out a little later, into the glaring, shimmering sunlight of the
+morning, her cheeks red, her eyes aglow, her heart racing wildly, to see
+an engine and a luxurious private car just pulling from the main track to
+a switch.
+
+"Oh," she whispered, joyously; "it's father's!"
+
+And she ran toward it, tingling with a new-found hope.
+
+In her room at the _Castle_ sat a woman who was finding the world very
+empty. It held nothing for her except the sad consolation of repentance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE FIGHT
+
+
+"The boss is sure a she-wolf at playin' a lone hand," growled Barkwell,
+shortly after dusk, to Jud Weaver, the straw boss. "Seems he thinks his
+friends is delicate ornaments which any use would bust to smithereens.
+Here's his outfit layin' around, bitin' their finger nails with ongwee an'
+pinin' away to slivers yearnin' to get into the big meal-lee, an' him
+racin' an' tearin' around the country fightin' it out by his lonesome. I
+call it rank selfishness!"
+
+"He sure ought to have give us a chancst to claw the hair outen that
+damned Corrigan feller!" complained Weaver. "In some ways, though, I'm
+sorta glad the damned mine was blew up. 'Firebrand' would have sure got
+a-hold of her some day, an' then we'd be clawin' at the bowels of the
+earth instid of galivantin' around on our cayuses like gentlemen. I reckon
+things is all for the best."
+
+The two had come in from the river range ostensibly to confer with
+Trevison regarding their work, but in reality to satisfy their curiosity
+over Trevison's movements. There was a deep current of concern for him
+under their accusations.
+
+They had found the ranchhouse dark and deserted. But the office door was
+open and they had entered, prepared supper, ate with a more than ordinary
+mingling of conversation with their food, and not lighting the lamps had
+gone out on the gallery for a smoke.
+
+"He ain't done any sleepin' to amount to much in the last forty-eight
+hours, to my knowin'," remarked Barkwell; "unless he's done his sleepin'
+on the run--an' that ain't in no ways a comfortable way. He's sure to be
+driftin' in here, soon."
+
+"This here country's goin' to hell, certain!" declared Weaver, after an
+hour of silence. "She's gettin' too eastern an' flighty. Railroads an'
+dams an' hotels with bath tubs for every six or seven rooms, an'
+resterawnts with filleedegree palms an' leather chairs an' slick eats is
+eatin' the gizzard outen her. Railroads is all right in their place--which
+is where folks ain't got no cayuses to fork an' therefore has to hoof
+it--or--or ride the damn railroad."
+
+"Correct!" agreed Barkwell; "she's a-goin' the way Rome went--an
+Babylone--an' Cincinnati--after I left. She runs to a pussy-cafe
+aristocracy--_an'_ napkins."
+
+"She'll be plumb ruined--follerin' them foreign styles. The Uhmerican
+people ain't got no right to adopt none of them new-fangled notions."
+Weaver stared glumly into the darkening plains.
+
+They aired their discontent long. Directed at the town it relieved the
+pressure of their resentment over Trevison's habit of depending upon
+himself. For, secretly, both were interested admirers of Manti's growing
+importance.
+
+Time was measured by their desires. Sometime before midnight Barkwell got
+up, yawned and stretched.
+
+"Sleep suits me. If 'Firebrand' ain't reckonin' on a guardian, I ain't
+surprisin' him none. He's mighty close-mouthed about his doin's, anyway."
+
+"You're shoutin'. I ain't never seen a man any stingier about hidin' away
+his doin's. He just nacherly hawgs all the trouble."
+
+Weaver got up and sauntered to the far end of the gallery, leaning far out
+to look toward Manti. His sharp exclamation brought Barkwell leaping to
+his side, and they both watched in perplexity a faint glow in the sky in
+the direction of the town. It died down as they watched.
+
+"Fire--looks like," Weaver growled. "We're always too late to horn in on
+any excitement."
+
+"Uh, huh," grunted Barkwell. He was staring intently at the plains,
+faintly discernable in the starlight. "There's horses out there, Jud!
+Three or four, an' they're comin' like hell!"
+
+They slipped off the gallery into the shadow of some trees, both
+instinctively feeling of their holsters. Standing thus they waited.
+
+The faint beat of hoofs came unmistakably to them. They grew louder,
+drumming over the hard sand of the plains, and presently four dark figures
+loomed out of the night and came plunging toward the gallery. They came to
+a halt at the gallery edge, and were about to dismount when Barkwell's
+voice, cold and truculent, issued from the shadow of the trees:
+
+"What's eatin' you guys?"
+
+There was a short, pregnant silence, and then one of the men laughed.
+
+"Who are you?" He urged his horse forward. But he was brought to a quick
+halt when Barkwell's voice came again:
+
+"Talk from where you are!"
+
+"That goes," laughed the man. "Trevison here?"
+
+"What you wantin' of him?"
+
+"Plenty. We're deputies. Trevison burned the courthouse and the bank
+tonight--and killed Braman. We're after him."
+
+"Well, he ain't here." Barkwell laughed. "Burned the courthouse, did he?
+An' the bank? An' killed Braman? Well, you got to admit that's a pretty
+good night's work. An' you're wantin' him!" Barkwell's voice leaped; he
+spoke in short, snappy, metallic sentences that betrayed passion long
+restrained, breaking his self-control. "You're deputies, eh? Corrigan's
+whelps! Sneaks! Coyotes! Well, you slope--you hear? When I count three, I
+down you! One! Two! Three!"
+
+His six-shooter stabbed the darkness at the last word. And at his side
+Weaver's pistol barked viciously. But the deputies had started at the word
+"One," and though Barkwell, noting the scurrying of their horses, cut the
+final words sharply, the four figures were vague and shadowy when the
+first pistol shot smote the air. Not a report floated back to the ears of
+the two men. They watched, with grim pouts on their lips, until the men
+vanished in the star haze of the plains. Then Barkwell spoke, raucously:
+
+"Well, we've broke in the game, Jud. We're Simon-pure outlaws--like our
+boss. I got one of them scum--I seen him grab leather. We'll all get in,
+now. They're after our boss, eh? Well, damn 'em, we'll show 'em! They's
+eight of the boys on the south fork. You get 'em, bring 'em here an' get
+rifles. I'll hit the breeze to the basin an' rustle the others!" He was
+running at the last word, and presently two horses raced out of the corral
+gates, clattered past the bunk-house and were swallowed in the vast, black
+space.
+
+Half an hour later the entire outfit--twenty men besides Barkwell and
+Weaver--left the ranchhouse and spread, fan-wise, over the plains west of
+Manti.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They lost all sense of time. Several of them had ridden to Manti, making a
+round of the places that were still open, but had returned, with no word
+of Trevison. Corrigan had claimed to have seen him. But then, a man told
+his questioner, Corrigan claimed Trevison had choked the banker to death.
+He could believe both claims, or neither. So far as the man himself was
+concerned, he was not going to commit himself. But if Trevison had done
+the job, he'd done it well. The seekers after information rode out of
+Manti on the run. At some time after midnight the entire outfit was
+grouped near Clay Levins' house.
+
+They held a short conference, and then Barkwell rode forward and hammered
+on the door of the cabin.
+
+"We're wantin' Clay, ma'am," said Barkwell in answer to the scared inquiry
+that filtered through the closed door. "It's the Diamond K outfit."
+
+"What do you want him for?"
+
+"We was thinkin' that mebbe he'd know where 'Firebrand' is. 'Firebrand' is
+sort of lost, I reckon."
+
+The door flew open and Mrs. Levins, like a pale ghost, appeared in the
+opening. "Trevison and Clay left here tonight. I didn't look to see what
+time. Oh, I hope nothing has happened to them!"
+
+They quieted her fears and fled out into the plains again, charging
+themselves with stupidity for not being more diplomatic in dealing with
+Mrs. Levins. During the early hours of the morning they rode again to the
+Diamond K ranchhouse, thinking that perhaps Trevison had slipped by them
+and returned. But Trevison had not returned, and the outfit gathered in
+the timber near the house in the faint light of the breaking dawn,
+disgusted, their horses jaded.
+
+"It's mighty hard work tryin' to be an outlaw in this damned dude-ridden
+country," wailed the disappointed Weaver. "Outlaws usual have a den or a
+cave or a mountain fastness, or somethin', anyhow--accordin' to all the
+literchoor I've read on the subject. If 'Firebrand's' got one, he's mighty
+bashful about mentionin' it."
+
+"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Barkwell, weakly. "My brains is sure ready for the
+mourners! Where's 'Firebrand'? Why, where would you expect a man to be
+that'd burned up a courthouse an' a bank an' salivated a banker? He'd be
+hidin' out, wouldn't he, you mis'able box-head! Would he come driftin'
+back to the home ranch, an' come out when them damn deputies come along,
+bowin' an' scrapin' an' sayin': 'I'm here, gentlemen--I've been waitin'
+for you to come an' try rope on me, so's you'd be sure to get a good fit!'
+Would he? You're mighty right he--wouldn't! He'd be populatin' that old
+pueblo that he's been tellin' me for years would make a good fort!" His
+horse leaped as he drove the spurs in, cruelly, but at the distance of a
+hundred yards he was not more than a few feet in advance of the
+others--and they, disregarding the rules of the game--were trying to pass
+him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"There ain't a bit of sense of takin' any risk," objected Levins from the
+security of the communal chamber, as Trevison peered cautiously around a
+corner of the adobe house. "It'd be just the luck of one of them critters
+if they'd pot you."
+
+"I'm not thinking of offering myself as a target for them," the other
+laughed. "They're still there," he added a minute later as he stepped into
+the chamber. "Them shooting you as they did, without warning, seems to
+indicate that they've orders to wipe us out, if possible. They're
+deputies. I bumped into Corrigan right after I left the bank building, and
+I suppose he has set them on us."
+
+"I reckon so. Seems it ain't possible, though," Levins added, doubtfully.
+"They was here before you come. Your Nigger horse ain't takin' no dust. I
+reckon you didn't stop anywheres?"
+
+"At the Bar B." Trevison made this admission with some embarrassment.
+
+But Levins did not reproach him--he merely groaned, eloquently.
+
+Trevison leaned against the opening of the chamber. His muscles ached; he
+was in the grip of a mighty weariness. Nature was protesting against the
+great strain that he had placed upon her. But his jaws set as he felt the
+flesh of his legs quivering; he grinned the derisive grin of the fighter
+whose will and courage outlast his physical strength. He felt a pulse of
+contempt for himself, and mingling with it was a strange elation--the
+thought that Rosalind Benham had strengthened his failing body, had
+provided it with the fuel necessary to keep it going for hours yet--as it
+must. He did not trust himself to yield to his passions as he stood
+there--that might have caused him to grow reckless. He permitted the
+weariness of his body to soothe his brain; over him stole a great calm. He
+assured himself that he could throw it off any time.
+
+But he had deceived himself. Nature had almost reached the limit of
+effort, and the inevitable slow reaction was taking place. The tired body
+could be forced on for a while yet, obeying the lethargic impulses of an
+equally tired brain, but the break would come. At this moment he was
+oppressed with a sense of the unreality of it all. The pueblo seemed like
+an ancient city of his dreams; the adobe houses details of a weird
+phantasmagoria; his adventures of the past forty-eight hours a succession
+of wild imaginings which he now reviewed with a sort of detached interest,
+as though he had watched them from afar.
+
+The moonlight shone on him; he heard Levins exclaim sharply: "Your arm's
+busted, ain't it?"
+
+He started, swayed, and caught himself, laughing lowly, guiltily, for he
+realized that he had almost fallen asleep, standing. He held the arm up to
+the moonlight, examining it, dropping it with a deprecatory word. He
+settled against the wall near the opening again.
+
+"Hell!" declared Levins, anxiously, "you're all in!"
+
+Trevison did not answer. He stole along the outside wall of the adobe
+house and peered out into the plains. The men were still where they had
+been when the shot had been fired, and the sight of them brought a cold
+grin to his face. He backed away from the corner, dropped to his stomach
+and wriggled his way back to the corner, shoving his rifle in front of
+him. He aimed the weapon deliberately, and pulled the trigger. At the
+flash a smothered cry floated up to him, and he drew back, the thud of
+bullets against the adobe walls accompanying him.
+
+"That leaves seven, Levins," he said grimly. "Looks like my trip to Santa
+Fe is off, eh?" he laughed. "Well, I've always had a yearning to be
+besieged, and I'll make it mighty interesting for those fellows. Do you
+think you can cover that slope, so they can't get up there while I'm
+reconnoitering? It would be certain death for me to stick my head around
+that corner again."
+
+At Levins' emphatic affirmative he was helped to the shelter of a recess,
+from where he had a view of the slope, though himself protected by a
+corner of one of the houses; placed a rifle in the wounded man's hands,
+and carrying his own, vanished into one of the dark passages that weaved
+through the pueblo.
+
+He went only a short distance. Emerging from an opening in one of the
+adobe houses he saw a parapet wall, sadly crumpled in spots, facing the
+plains, and he dropped to his hands and knees and crept toward it,
+secreting himself behind it and prodding the wall cautiously with the
+barrel of his rifle until he found a joint in the stone work where the
+adobe mud was rotted. He poked the muzzle of the rifle through the
+crevice, took careful aim, and had the satisfaction of hearing a savage
+curse in the instant following the flash. He threw himself flat
+immediately, listening to the spatter and whine of the bullets of the
+volley that greeted his shot. They kept it up long--but when there was a
+momentary cessation he crept back to the entrance of the adobe house,
+entered, followed another passage and came out on the ledge farther along
+the side of the pueblo. He halted in a dense shadow and looked toward the
+spot where the men had been. They had vanished.
+
+There was nothing to do but to wait, and he sank behind a huge block of
+stone in an angle of the ledge, noting with satisfaction that he could see
+the slope that he had set Levins to guard.
+
+"I'm the boss of this fort if I don't go to sleep," he told himself grimly
+as he stretched out. He lay there, watching, while the moonlight faded,
+while a gray streak in the east slowly widened, presaging the dawn.
+Stretched flat, his aching muscles welcoming the support of the cool stone
+of the ledge, he had to fight off the drowsiness that assailed him.
+
+An hour dragged by. He knew the deputies were watching, no doubt having
+separated to conceal themselves behind convenient boulders that dotted the
+plains at the foot of the slope. Or perhaps while he had been in the
+passages of the pueblo, changing his position, some of them might have
+stolen to the numerous crags and outcroppings of rock at the base of the
+pueblo. They might now be massing for a rush up the slope. But he doubted
+they would risk the latter move, for they knew that he must be on the
+alert, and they had cause to fear his rifle.
+
+Once he rested his head on his extended right arm, and the contact was so
+agreeable that he allowed it to remain there--long. He caught himself in
+time; in another second he would have been too late. He saw the figure of
+a man on the slope a foot or two below the crest. He was flat on his
+stomach, no doubt having crept there during the minutes that Trevison had
+been enjoying his rest, and at the instant Trevison saw him he was raising
+his rifle, directing it at the recess where Levins had been left, on
+guard.
+
+Trevison was wide awake now, and his marksmanship as deadly as ever. He
+waited until the man's rifle came to a level. Then his own weapon spat
+viciously. The man rose to his knees, reeling. Another rifle cracked--from
+the recess where Levins was concealed, this time--and the man sank to the
+dust of the slope, rolling over and over until he reached the bottom,
+where he stretched out and lay prone. There was a shout of rage from a
+section of rock-strewn level near the foot of the slope, and Trevison's
+lips curled with satisfaction. The second shot had told him that a fear he
+had entertained momentarily was unfounded--Levins was apparently quite
+alive.
+
+He raised himself cautiously, backed away from the rock behind which he
+had been concealed, and wheeled, intending to join Levins. A faint sound
+reached his ears from the plains, and he faced around again, to see a
+group of horsemen riding toward the pueblo. They were coming fast, racing
+ahead of a dust cloud, and were perhaps a quarter of a mile distant. But
+Trevison knew them, and stepped boldly out to the edge of the stone ledge
+waving his hat to them, laughing full-throatedly, his voice vibrating a
+little as he spoke:
+
+"Good old Barkwell!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That's him!"
+
+Barkwell pulled his horse to a sliding halt as he saw the figure on the
+pueblo, outlined distinctly in the clear white light of the dawn.
+
+"He's all right!" he declared to the others as they followed his example
+and drew their beasts down. "Them's some of the scum that's been after
+him," he added as several horsemen swept around the far side of the
+pueblo. "It was them we heard shootin'." The outfit sat silent on their
+horses and watched the men ride over the plains toward another group of
+horsemen that the Diamond K men had observed some time before riding
+toward the pueblo,
+
+"Yep!" Barkwell said, now; "that other bunch is deputies, too. It's mighty
+plain. This bunch rounded up 'Firebrand' an' sent some one back for
+reinforcements." He swept the Diamond K outfit with a snarling smile.
+"They're goin' to need 'em, too! I reckon we'd better wait for them to
+play their hand. It's about a stand off in numbers. We don't stand no
+slack, boys. We're outlawed already, from the ruckus of last night, an' if
+they start anything we've got to wipe 'em out! You heard 'em shootin' at
+the boss, an' they ain't no pussy-kitten bunch! I'll do the gassin'--if
+there's any to be done--an' when I draw, you guys do your damnedest!"
+
+The outfit set itself to wait. Over on the edge of the pueblo they could
+see Trevison. He was bending over something, and when they saw him stoop
+and lift the object, heaving it to his shoulder and walking away with it,
+a sullen murmur ran over the outfit, and lips grew stiff and white with
+rage.
+
+"It's Clay Levins, boys!" said Barkwell. "They've plugged him! Do you
+reckon we've got to go back to Levins' shack an' tell his wife that we let
+them skunks get away after makin' orphants of her kids?"
+
+"I'm jumpin'!" shrieked Jud Weaver, his voice coming chokingly with
+passion. "I ain't waitin' one damned minute for any palaver! Either them
+deputies is wiped out, or I am!" He dug the spurs into his horse, drawing
+his six-shooter as the animal leaped.
+
+Weaver's horse led the outfit by only three or four jumps, and they swept
+over the level like a devastating cyclone, the spiral dust cloud that rose
+behind them following them lazily, sucked along by the wind of their
+passing.
+
+The group of deputies had halted; they were sitting tense and silent in
+their saddles when the Diamond K outfit came up, slowing down as they drew
+nearer, and halting within ten feet of the others, spreading out in a
+crude semi-circle, so that each man had an unobstructed view of the
+deputies.
+
+Barkwell had no chance to talk. Before he could get his breath after
+pulling his horse down, Weaver, his six-shooter in hand, its muzzle
+directed fairly at Gieger, who was slightly in advance of his men, fumed
+forth:
+
+"What in hell do you-all mean by tryin' to herd-ride our boss? Talk fast,
+you eagle-beaked turkey buzzard, or I salivates you rapid!"
+
+The situation was one of intense delicacy. Gieger might have averted the
+threatening clash with a judicious use of soft, placating speech. But it
+pleased him to bluster.
+
+"We are deputies, acting under orders from the court. We are after a
+murderer, and we mean to get him!" he said, coldly.
+
+"Deputies! Hell!" Barkwell's voice rose, sharply scornful and mocking.
+"Deputies! Crooks! Gun-fighters! Pluguglies!" His eyes, bright, alert,
+gleaming like a bird's, were roving over the faces in the group of
+deputies. "A damn fine bunch of guys to represent the law! There's Dakota
+Dick, there! Tinhorn, rustler! There's Red Classen! Stage robber! An'
+Pepper Ridgely, a plain, ornery thief! An' Kid Dorgan, a sneakin' killer!
+An' Buff Keller, an' Andy Watts, an' Pig Mugley, an'--oh, hell! Deputies!
+Law!----Ah--hah!"
+
+One of the men had reached for his holster. Weaver's gun barked twice and
+the man pitched limply forward to his horse's neck. Other weapons flashed;
+the calm of the early morning was rent by the hoarse, guttural cries of
+men in the grip of the blood-lust, the sustained and venomous popping of
+pistols, the queer, sodden impact of lead against flesh, the terror-snorts
+of horses, and the grunts of men, falling heavily.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+A big man in khaki, loping his horse up the slope of an arroyo half a mile
+distant, started at the sound of the first shot and raced over the crest.
+He pulled the horse to an abrupt halt as his gaze swept the plains in
+front of him. He saw riderless horses running frantically away from a
+smoking blot, he saw the blot streaked with level, white smoke-spurts that
+ballooned upward quickly; he heard the dull, flat reports that followed
+the smoke-spurts.
+
+It seemed to be over in an instant. The blot split up, galloping horses
+and yelling men burst out of it. The big man had reached the crest of the
+arroyo at the critical second in which the balance of victory wavers
+uncertainly. With thrusting chin, lips in a hideous pout, and with sullen,
+blazing eyes, he watched the battle go against him. Fifteen cowboys--he
+counted them, deliberately, coldly, despite the rage-mania that had seized
+him--were spurring after eight other men whom he knew for his own. As he
+watched he saw two of these tumble from their horses. And at a distance he
+saw the loops of ropes swing out to enmesh four more--who were thrown and
+dragged; he watched darkly as the remaining two raised their hands above
+their heads. Then his lips came out of their pout and were wreathed in a
+bitter snarl.
+
+"Licked!" he muttered. "Twelve put out of business. But there's thirty
+more--if the damn fools have come in to town! That's two to one!" He
+laughed, wheeled his horse toward Manti, rode a few feet down the slope of
+the arroyo, halted and sat motionless in the saddle, looking back. He
+smiled with cold satisfaction. "Lucky for me that cinch strap broke," he
+said.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison was placing Levins' limp form across the saddle on Nigger's back
+when the faint morning breeze bore to his ears the report of Weaver's
+pistol. A rattling volley followed the first report, and Trevison led
+Nigger close to the edge of the ledge in time to observe the battle as
+Corrigan had seen it. He hurried Nigger down the slope, but he had to be
+careful with his burden. Reaching the level he lifted Levins off, laid him
+gently on the top of a huge flat rock, and then leaped into the saddle and
+sent Nigger tearing over the plains toward the scene of the battle.
+
+It was over when he arrived. A dozen men were lying in the tall grass.
+Some were groaning, writhing; others were quiet and motionless. Four or
+five of them were arrayed in chaps. His lips grimmed as his gaze swept
+them. He dismounted and went to them, one after another. He stooped long
+over one.
+
+"They've got Weaver," he heard a voice say. And he started and looked
+around, and seeing no one near, knew it was his own voice that he heard.
+It was dry and light--as a man's voice might be who has run far and fast.
+He stood for a while, looking down at Weaver. His brain was reeling, as it
+had reeled over on the ledge of the pueblo a few minutes before, when he
+had discovered a certain thing. It was not a weakness; it was a surge of
+reviving rage, an accession of passion that made his head swim with its
+potency, made his muscles swell with a strength that he had not known for
+many hours. Never in his life had he felt more like crying. His emotions
+seared his soul as a white-hot iron sears the flesh; they burned into him,
+scorching his pity and his impulses of mercy, withering them, blighting
+them. He heard himself whining sibilantly, as he had heard boys whine when
+fighting, with eagerness and lust for blows. It was the insensate, raging
+fury of the fight-madness that had gripped him, and he suddenly yielded to
+it and raised his head, laughing harshly, with panting, labored breath.
+
+Barkwell rode up to him, speaking hoarsely: "We come pretty near wipin'
+'em out, 'Firebrand!'"
+
+He looked up at his foreman, and the latter's face blanched. "God!" he
+said. He whispered to a cowboy who had joined him: "The boss is pretty
+near loco--looks like!"
+
+"They've killed Weaver," muttered Trevison. "He's here. They killed Clay,
+too--he's down on a rock near the slope." He laughed, and tightened his
+belt. The record book which he had carried in his waistband all along
+interfered with this work, and he drew it out, throwing it from him. "Clay
+was worth a thousand of them!"
+
+Barkwell got down and seized the book, watching Trevison closely.
+
+"Look here, Boss," he said, as Trevison ran to his horse and threw himself
+into the saddle; "you're bushed, mighty near--"
+
+If Trevison heard his first words he had paid no attention to them. He
+could not have heard the last words, for Nigger had lunged forward,
+running with great, long, catlike leaps in the direction of Manti.
+
+"Good God!" yelled Barkwell to some of the men who had ridden up; "the
+damn fool is goin' to town! They'll salivate him, sure as hell! Some of
+you stay here--two's enough! The rest of you come along with me!"
+
+They were after Trevison within a few seconds, but the black horse was far
+ahead, running without hitch or stumble, as straight toward Manti as his
+willing muscles and his loyal heart could take him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan had seen the black bolt that had rushed toward him out of the
+spot where the blot had been. He cursed hoarsely and drove the spurs deep
+into the flanks of his horse, and the animal, squealing with pain and
+fury, leaped down the side of the arroyo, crossed the bottom in two or
+three bounds and stretched away toward Manti.
+
+A cold fear had seized the big man's heart. It made a sweat break out on
+his forehead, it caused his hand to tremble as he flung it around to his
+hip in search of his pistol. He tried to shake the feeling off, but it
+clung insistently to him, making him catch his breath. His horse was big,
+rangy, and strong, but he forced it to such a pace during the first mile
+of the ride that he could feel its muscles quivering under the saddle
+skirts. And he looked back at the end of the mile, to see the black horse
+at about the same distance from him; possibly the distance had been
+shortened. It seemed to Corrigan that he had never seen a horse that
+traveled as smoothly and evenly as the big black, or that ran with as
+little effort. He began to loathe the black with an intensity equaled only
+by that which he felt for his rider.
+
+He held his lead for another mile. Glancing back a little later he noted
+with a quickening pulse that the distance had been shortened by several
+hundred feet, and that the black seemed to be traveling with as little
+effort as ever. Also, for the first time, Corrigan noticed the presence of
+other riders, behind Trevison. They were topping a slight rise at the
+instant he glanced back, and were at least a mile behind his pursuer.
+
+At first, mingled with his fear, Corrigan had felt a slight disgust for
+himself in yielding to his sudden panic. He had never been in the habit of
+running. He had been as proud of his courage as he had been of his
+cleverness and his keenness in planning and plotting. It had been his
+mental boast that in every crisis his nerve was coldest. But now he nursed
+a vagrant, furtive hope that waiting for him at Manti would be some of
+those men whom he had hired at his own expense to impersonate deputies.
+The presence of the hope was as inexplicable as the fear that had set him
+to running from Trevison. Two or three weeks ago he would have faced both
+Trevison and his men and brazened it out. But of late a growing dread of
+the man had seized him. Never before had he met a man who refused to be
+beaten, or who had fought him as recklessly and relentlessly.
+
+He jeered at himself as he rode, telling himself that when Trevison got
+near enough he would stand and have it out with him--for he knew that the
+fight had narrowed down between them until it was as Trevison had said,
+man to man--but as he rode his breath came faster, his backward glances
+grew more frequent and fearful, and the cold sweat on his forehead grew
+clammy. Fear, naked and shameful, had seized him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Behind him, lean, gaunt, haggard; seeing nothing but the big man ahead of
+him, feeling nothing but an insane desire to maim or slay him, rode a man
+who in forty-eight hours had been transformed from a frank, guileless,
+plain-speaking human, to a rage-drunken savage--a monomaniac who, as he
+leaned over Nigger's mane, whispered and whined and mewed, as his
+forebears, in some tropical jungle, voiced their passions when they set
+forth to slay those who had sought to despoil them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE DREGS
+
+
+When the Benham private car came to a stop on the switch, Rosalind swung
+up the steps and upon the platform just as J. C., ruddy, smiling and
+bland, opened the door. She was in his arms in an instant, murmuring her
+joy. He stroked her hair, then held her off for a good look at her, and
+inquired, unctuously:
+
+"What are you doing in town so early, my dear?"
+
+"Oh!" She hid her face on his shoulder, reluctant to tell him. But she
+knew he must be told, and so she steeled herself, stepping back and
+looking at him, her heart pounding madly.
+
+"Father; these people have discovered that Corrigan has been trying to
+cheat them!"
+
+She would have gone on, but the sickly, ghastly pallor of his face
+frightened her. She swayed and leaned against the railing of the platform,
+a sinking, deadly apprehension gnawing at her, for it seemed from the
+expression of J. C.'s face that he had some knowledge of Corrigan's
+intentions. But J. C. had been through too many crises to surrender at the
+first shot in this one. Still he got a good grip on himself before he
+attempted to answer, and then his voice was low and intoned with casual
+surprise:
+
+"Trying to cheat them? How, my dear?"
+
+"By trying to take their land from them. You had no knowledge of it,
+Father?"
+
+"Who has been saying that?" he demanded, with a fairly good pretense of
+righteous anger.
+
+"Nobody. But I thought--I--Oh, thank God!"
+
+"Well, well," he bluffed with faint reproach; "things are coming to a
+pretty pass when one's own daughter is the first to suspect him of
+wrong-doing."
+
+"I didn't, Father. I was merely--I don't know what I _did_ think! There
+has been so much excitement! Everything is _so_ upset! They have blown up
+the mining machinery, burned the bank and the courthouse; Judge Lindman
+was abducted and found; Braman was killed--choked to death; the Vigilantes
+are--"
+
+"Good God!" Benham interrupted her, staggering back against the rear of
+the coach. "Who has been at the bottom of all this lawlessness?"
+
+"Trevison."
+
+He gasped, in spite of the fact that he had suspected what her answer
+would be.
+
+"Where is Corrigan? Where's Trevison?" He demanded, his hands shaking.
+"Answer me! Where are they?"
+
+"I don't know," the girl returned, dully. "They say Trevison is hiding in
+a pueblo not far from the Bar B. And that Corrigan left here early this
+morning, with a number of deputies, to try to capture him. And those
+men--" She indicated the horsemen gathered in front of the _Belmont_, whom
+he had not seen, "are organizing to go to Trevison's rescue. They have
+discovered that Corrigan murdered Braman, though Corrigan accused
+Trevison."
+
+J. C. flattened himself against the rear wall of the coach and looked with
+horror upon the armed riders. There were forty or fifty of them now, and
+others were joining the group. "Where's Judge Lindman?" he faltered.
+"Can't this lawlessness be stopped?"
+
+"It is only a few minutes ago that Judge Lindman was dragged from a shed
+into which he had been forced by Corrigan--after being beaten by him. He
+made a public confession of his part in the attempted fraud, and charged
+Corrigan with coercing him. Those men are aroused, Father. I don't know
+what the end will be, but I am afraid--I'm afraid they'll--"
+
+"I shall give the engineer orders to pull my car out of here!" J. C.'s
+face was chalky white.
+
+"No, no!" cried the girl, sharply. "That would make them think you
+were--Don't _run_, Father!" she begged, omitting the word which she
+dreaded to think might become attached to him should he go away, now that
+some of them had seen him. "We'll stand our ground, Father. If Corrigan
+has done those things he deserves to be punished!" Her lips, white and
+stiff, closed firmly.
+
+"Yes, yes," he said; "that's right--we won't run." But he drew her inside,
+despite her objections, and from a window they watched the members of the
+Vigilantes gathering, bristling with weapons, a sinister and ominous arm
+of that law which is the dread and horror of the evil-doer.
+
+There came a movement, concerted, accompanied by a low rumble as of waves
+breaking on a rocky shore. It brought the girl out of her chair, through
+the door and upon the car platform, where she stood, her hands clasped
+over her breast, her breath coming gaspingly. His knees knocking together,
+his face the ashen gray of death, Benham stumbled after her. He did not
+want to go; did not care to see this thing--what might happen--what his
+terror told him _would_ happen; but he was forced out upon the platform by
+the sheer urge of a morbid curiosity that there was no denying; it had
+laid hold of his soul, and though he cringed and shivered and tottered, he
+went out, standing close to the iron rail, gripping it with hands that
+grew blueish-white around the knuckles; watching with eyes that bulged,
+his lips twitching over soundless words. For he could not hold himself
+guiltless in this thing; it could not have happened had he tempered his
+smug complacence with thoughts of justice. He groaned, gibbering, for he
+stood on the brink at this minute, looking down at the lashing sea of
+retribution.
+
+The girl paid no attention to him. She was watching the men down the
+street. The concerted movement had come from them. Nearly a hundred riders
+were on the move. Lefingwell, huge, grim, led them down the street toward
+the private car. For an instant the girl felt a throb of terror, thinking
+that they might have designs on the man who stood at the railing near her,
+unable to move--for he had the same thought. She murmured thankfully when
+they wheeled, and without looking in her direction loped their horses
+toward a wide, vacant space between some buildings, which led out into the
+plains, and through which she had ridden often when entering Manti.
+Watching the men, shuddering at the ominous aspect they presented, she saw
+a tremor run through them--as though they all formed one body. They came
+to a sudden stop. She heard a ripple of sound arise from them, amazement
+and anticipation. And then, as though with preconcerted design, though she
+had heard no word spoken, the group divided, splitting asunder with a
+precision that deepened the conviction of preconcertedness, ranging
+themselves on each side of the open space, leaving it gaping barrenly,
+unobstructed--a stretch of windrowed alkali dust, deep, light and
+feathery.
+
+Silence, like a stroke, fell over the town. The girl saw people running
+toward the open space, but they seemed to make no noise--they might have
+been dream people. And then, noting that they all stared in one direction,
+she looked over their heads. Not more than four or five hundred feet from
+the open space, and heading directly toward it, thundered a rider on a
+tall, strong, rangy horse. The beast's chest was foam-flecked, the white
+lather that billowed around its muzzle was stained darkly. But it came on
+with heart-breaking effort, giving its rider its all. Behind the first
+rider came a second, not more than fifty feet distant from the other, on a
+black horse which ran with no effort, seemingly, sliding along with great,
+smooth undulations, his mighty muscles flowing like living things under
+his glossy, somber coat.
+
+The girl saw the man on his back leaning forward, a snarling, terrible
+grin on his face. She saw the first rider wheel when he reached the edge
+of the open space near the waiting Vigilantes, bring his horse to a
+sliding halt and face toward his pursuer. He clawed at a hip pocket,
+drawing a pistol that flashed in the first rays of the morning sun--it
+belched fire and smoke in a continuous stream, seemingly straight at the
+rider of the black horse. One--two--three--four--five--six times! The girl
+counted. But the first man's hand wabbled, and the rider of the black
+horse came on like a demon astride a black bolt, a laugh of bitter
+derision on his lips. The black did not swerve. Straight and true in his
+headlong flight he struck the other horse. They went down in a smother of
+dust, the two horses grunting, scrambling and kicking. The girl had seen
+the rider of the black horse lunge forward at the instant of impact; he
+had thrown himself at the other man as she had seen football players
+launch themselves at players of the opposition, and they had both reeled
+out of their saddles to disappear in the smother of dust.
+
+Men left the fringe of the living wall flanking the open space and seized
+the two horses, leading them away. The smother drifted, and the girl
+screamed at sight of the two raging things that rolled and burrowed in the
+deep dust of the street.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They got up as she watched them, springing apart hesitating for an awful
+instant to sob breath into their lungs; then they rushed together,
+striking bitter, sledge-hammer blows that sounded like the smashing of
+flat rocks, falling from a great height, on the surface of water. She
+shrieked once, wildly, beseeching someone to stop them, but no man paid
+any attention to her cry. They sat on their horses, silent, tense, grim,
+and she settled into a coma of terror, an icy paralysis gripping her. She
+heard her father muttering incoherently at her side, droning and puling
+something over and over in a wailing monotone--she caught it after a
+while; he was calling upon his God--in an hour that could not have been
+were it not for his own moral flaccidness.
+
+The dust under the feet of the fighting men leveled under their shifting,
+dragging feet; it bore the print of their bodies where they had lain and
+rolled in it; erupting volcanoes belched it heavily upward; it caught and
+gripped their legs to the ankles, making their movements slow and sodden.
+This condition favored the larger man. He lashed out a heavy fist that
+caught Trevison full and fair on the jaw, and the latter's face turned
+ashy white as he sank to his knees. Corrigan stopped to catch his breath
+before he hurled himself forward, and this respite, brief as it was,
+helped the other to shake off the deadening effect of the blow. He moved
+his head slightly as Corrigan swung at it, and the blow missed, its force
+pulling the big man off his feet, so that he tumbled headlong over his
+adversary. He was up again in a flash though, for he was fresher than his
+enemy. They clinched, and stood straining, matching strength against
+strength, sheer, without trickery, for the madness of murder was in the
+heart of one and the desperation of fear in the soul of the other, and
+they thought of nothing but to crush and batter and pound.
+
+Corrigan's strength was slightly the greater, but it was offset by the
+other's fury. In the clinch the big man's right hand came up, the heel of
+the palm shoved with malignant ferocity against Trevison's chin.
+Corrigan's left arm was around Trevison's waist, squeezing it like a vise,
+and the whole strength of Corrigan's right arm was exerted to force the
+other's head back. Trevison tried to slip his head sideways to escape the
+hold, but the effort was fruitless. Changing his tactics, his breath
+lagging in his throat from the terrible pressure on it, Trevison worked
+his right hand into the other's stomach with the force and regularity of a
+piston rod. The big man writhed under the punishment, dropping his hand
+from Trevison's chin to his waist, swung him from his feet and threw him
+from him as a man throws a bag of meal.
+
+He was after him before he landed, but the other writhed and wriggled in
+the air like a cat, and when the big man reached for him, trying again to
+clinch, he evaded the arm and landed a crushing blow on the other's chin
+that snapped his head back as though it were swung from a hinge, and sent
+him reeling, to his knees in the dust.
+
+The watching girl saw the ring of men around the fighters contract; she
+saw Trevison dive headlong at the kneeling man; with fingers working in a
+fury of impotence she swayed at the iron rail, leaning far over it, her
+eyes strained, her breath bated, constricting her lungs as though a steel
+band were around them. For she seemed to feel that the end was near.
+
+She saw them, locked in each other's embrace, stagger to their feet.
+Corrigan's head was wabbling. He was trying to hold the other to him that
+he might escape the lashing blows that were driven at his head. The girl
+saw his hold broken, and as he reeled, catching another blow in the mouth,
+he swung toward her and she saw that his lips were smashed, the blood from
+them trickling down over his chin. There was a gleam of wild, despairing
+terror in his eyes--revealing the dawning consciousness of approaching
+defeat, complete and terrible. She saw Trevison start another blow,
+swinging his fist upward from his knee. It landed with a sodden squish on
+the big man's jaw. His eyes snapped shut, and he dropped soundlessly, face
+down in the dust.
+
+For a space Trevison stood, swaying drunkenly, looking down at his beaten
+enemy. Then he drew himself erect with a mighty effort and swept the crowd
+with a glance, the fires of passion still leaping and smoldering in his
+eyes. He seemed for the first time to see the Vigilantes, to realize the
+significance of their presence, and as he wheeled slowly his lips parted
+in a grin of bitter satisfaction. He staggered around the form of his
+fallen enemy, his legs bending at the knees, his feet dragging in the
+dust. It seemed to the girl that he was waiting for Corrigan to get up
+that he might resume the fight, and she cried out protestingly. He wheeled
+at the sound of her voice and faced her, rocking back and forth on his
+heels and toes, and the glow of dull astonishment in his eyes told her
+that he was now for the first time aware of her presence. He bowed to her,
+gravely, losing his balance in the effort, reeling weakly to recover it.
+
+And then a crush of men blotted him out--the ring of Vigilantes had closed
+around him. She saw Barkwell lunging through the press to gain Trevison's
+side; she got a glimpse of him a minute later, near Trevison. The street
+had become a sea of jostling, shoving men and prancing horses. She wanted
+to get away--somewhere--to shut this sight from her eyes. For though one
+horror was over, another impended. She knew it, but could not move. A
+voice boomed hoarsely, commandingly, above the buzz of many others--it was
+Lefingwell's, and she cringed at the sound of it. There was a concerted
+movement; the Vigilantes were shoving the crowd back, clearing a space in
+the center. In the cleared space two men were lifting Corrigan to his
+feet. He was reeling in their grasp, his chin on his chest, his face
+dust-covered, disfigured, streaked with blood. He was conquered, his
+spirit broken, and her heart ached with pity for him despite her horror
+for his black deeds. The loop of a rope swung out as she watched; it fell
+with a horrible swish over Corrigan's head and was drawn taut, swiftly,
+and a hoarse roar of approval drowned her shriek.
+
+She heard Trevison's voice, muttering in protest, but his words, like her
+shriek, were lost in the confusion of sound. She saw him fling his arms
+wide, sending Barkwell and another man reeling from him; he reached for
+the pistol at his side and leveled it at the crowd. Those nearest him
+shrank, their faces blank with fear and astonishment. But the man with the
+rope stood firm, as did Lefingwell, grim, his face darkening with wrath.
+
+"This is the law actin' here, 'Firebrand,'" he said, his voice level.
+"You've done your bit, an' you're due to step back an' let justice take a
+hand. This here skunk has outraged every damned rule of decency an' honor.
+He's tried to steal all our land; he's corrupted our court, nearly guzzled
+Judge Lindman to death, killed Braman--an' Barkwell says the bunch of
+pluguglies he hired to pose as deputies, has killed Clay Levins an' four
+or five of the Diamond K men. That's plenty. We'd admire to give in to
+you. We'll do anything else you say. But this has got to be done."
+
+While Lefingwell had been talking two of the Vigilantes had slipped to the
+rear of Trevison. As Lefingwell concluded they leaped. The arms of one man
+went around Trevison's neck; the other man lunged low and pinned his arms
+to his sides, one hand grasping the pistol and wrenching it from his hand.
+The crowd closed again. The girl saw Corrigan lifted to the back of a
+horse, and she shut her eyes and hung dizzily to the railing, while tumult
+and confusion raged around her.
+
+She opened her eyes a little later, to see Barkwell and another man
+leading Trevison into the front door of the _Castle_. The street around
+the car was deserted, save for two or three men who were watching her
+curiously. She felt her father's arms around her, and she was led into the
+car, her knees shaking, her soul sick with the horror of it all.
+
+Half an hour later, as she sat at one of the windows, staring stonily out
+in the shimmering sunlight of the street, she saw some of the Vigilantes
+returning. She shrank back from the window, shuddering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE CALM
+
+
+The day seemed to endure for an age. Rosalind did not leave the car; she
+did not go near her father, shut up alone in his apartment; she ate
+nothing, ignoring the negro attendant when he told her that lunch was
+served, huddled in a chair beside an open window she decided a battle. She
+saw the forces of reason and justice rout the hosts of hatred and crime,
+and she got up finally, her face pallid, but resolute, secure in the
+knowledge that she had decided wisely. She pitied Corrigan. Had it been
+within her power she would have prevented the tragedy. And yet she could
+not blame these people. They were playing the game honestly, and their
+patience had been sadly strained by one player who had persisted in
+breaking the rules. He had been swept away by his peers, which was as fair
+a way as any law--any human law--could deal with him. In her own East he
+would have paid the same penalty. The method would have been more refined,
+to be sure; there would have been a long legal squabble, with its tedious
+delays, but in the end Corrigan would have paid. There was a retributive
+justice for all those who infracted the rules of the game. It had found
+Corrigan.
+
+At three o'clock in the afternoon she washed her face. The cool water
+refreshed her, and with reviving spirits she combed her hair, brushed the
+dust from her clothing, and looked into a mirror. There were dark hollows
+under her eyes, a haunting, dreading expression in them. For she could not
+help thinking about what had happened there--down the street where the
+Vigilantes had gone.
+
+She dropped listlessly into another chair beside a window, this time
+facing the station. She saw her horse, hitched to the rail at the station
+platform, where she had left it that morning. _That_ seemed to have been
+days ago! A period of aching calm had succeeded the tumult of the morning.
+The street was soundless, deserted. Those men who had played leading parts
+in the tragedy were not now visible. She would have deserted the town too,
+had it not been for her father. The tragedy had unnerved him, and she must
+stay with him until he recovered. She had asked the porter about him, and
+the latter had reported that he seemed to be asleep.
+
+A breeze carried a whisper to her as she sat at the window:
+
+"Where's 'Firebrand' now?" said a voice.
+
+"Sleepin'. The clerk in the _Castle_ says he's makin' up for lost time."
+
+She did not bother to try to see the owners of the voices; her gaze was on
+the plains, far and vast; and the sky, clear, with a pearly shimmer that
+dazzled her. She closed her eyes. She could not have told how long she
+slept. She awoke to the light touch of the porter, and she saw Trevison
+standing in the open doorway of the car.
+
+The dust of the battle had been removed. An admiring barber had worked
+carefully over him; a doctor had mended his arm. Except for a noticeable
+thinness of the face, and a certain drawn expression of the eyes, he was
+the same Trevison who had spoken so frankly to her one day out on the
+plains when he had taken her into his confidence. In the look that he gave
+her now was the same frankness, clouded a little, she thought, by some
+emotion--which she could not fathom.
+
+"I have come to apologize," he said; "for various unjust thoughts with
+which I have been obsessed." Before she could reply he had taken two or
+three swift steps and was standing over her, and was speaking again, his
+voice vibrant and regretful: "I ought to have known better than to
+think--what I did--of you. I have no excuses to make, except that I was
+insane with a fear that my ten years of labor and lonesomeness were to be
+wasted. I have just had a talk with Hester Harvey, and she has shown me
+what a fool I have been. She--"
+
+Rosalind got up, laughing lowly, tremulously. "I talked with Hester this
+morning. And I think--"
+
+"She told you--" he began, his voice leaping.
+
+"Many things." She looked straight at him, her eyes glowing, but they
+drooped under the heat of his. "You don't need to feel elated over
+it--there were two of us." She felt that the surge of joy that ran over
+her would have shown in her face had it not been for a sudden recollection
+of what the Vigilantes had done that morning. That recollection paled her
+cheeks and froze the smile on her lips.
+
+He was watching her closely and saw her face harden. A shadow passed over
+his own. He thought he could see the hopelessness of staying longer. "A
+woman's love," he said, gloomily, "is a wonderful thing. It clings through
+trouble and tragedy--never faltering." She looked at him, startled, trying
+to solve the enigma of this speech. He laughed, bitterly. "That's what
+makes a woman superior to mere man. Love exalts her. It makes a savage of
+a man. I suppose it is 'good-bye.'" He held out a hand to her and she took
+it, holding it limply, looking at him in wonderment, her heart heavy with
+regret. "I wish you luck and happiness," he said. "Corrigan is a man in
+spite of--of many faults. You can redeem him; you--"
+
+"_Is_ a man!" Her hand tightened on his; he could feel her tremble.
+"Why--why--I thought--Didn't they--"
+
+"Didn't they tell you? The fools!" He laughed derisively. "They let him
+go. They knew I wouldn't want it. They did it for me. He went East on the
+noon train--quite alive, I assure you. I am glad of it--for your sake."
+
+"For my sake!" Her voice lifted in mingled joy and derision, and both her
+hands were squeezing his with a pressure that made his blood leap with a
+longing to possess her. "For _my_ sake!" she repeated, and the emphasis
+made him gasp and stiffen. "For _your_ sake--for both of us, Trevison! Oh,
+what fools we were! What fools all people are, not to trust and believe!"
+
+"What do you mean?" He drew her toward him, roughly, and held her hands in
+a grip that made her wince. But she looked straight at him in spite of the
+pain, her eyes brimming with a promise that he could not mistake.
+
+"Can't you _see_?" she said to him, her voice quavering; "_must _ I tell
+you?"
+
+
+
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+THE MAN OF THE FOREST
+THE DESERT OF WHEAT
+THE U. P. TRAIL
+WILDFIRE
+THE BORDER LEGION
+THE RAINBOW TRAIL
+THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
+RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
+THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
+THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
+THE LONE STAR RANGER
+DESERT GOLD
+BETTY ZANE
+
+LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS
+
+The life story of "Buffalo Bill" by his sister Helen Cody Wetmore, with
+Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.
+
+ZANE GREY'S BOOKS FOR BOYS
+
+KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE
+THE YOUNG LION HUNTER
+THE YOUNG FORESTER
+THE YOUNG PITCHER
+THE SHORT STOP
+THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES
+
+Grossett & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
+
+
+
+
+EDGAR RICE BURROUGH'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+TARZAN THE UNTAMED
+
+Tells of Tarzan's return to the life of the ape-man in his search for
+vengeance on those who took from him his wife and home.
+
+JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN
+
+Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan proves his right to
+ape kingship.
+
+A PRINCESS OF MARS
+
+Forty-three million miles from the earth--a succession of the weirdest and
+most astounding adventures in fiction. John Carter, American, finds
+himself on the planet Mars, battling for a beautiful woman, with the Green
+Men of Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet high, mounted on horses like
+dragons.
+
+THE GODS OF MARS
+
+Continuing John Carter's adventures on the Planet Mars, in which he does
+battle against the ferocious "plant men," creatures whose mighty tails
+swished their victims to instant death, and defies Issus, the terrible
+Goddess of Death, whom all Mars worships and reveres.
+
+THE WARLORD OF MARS
+
+Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear, Tars Tarkas,
+Tardos Mors and others. There is a happy ending to the story in the union
+of the Warlord, the title conferred upon John Carter, with Dejah Thoris.
+
+THUVIA, MAID OF MARS
+
+The fourth volume of the series. The story centers around the adventures
+of Carthoris, the son of John Carter and Thuvia, daughter of a Martian
+Emperor.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Firebrand' Trevison
+
+Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+Illustrator: P. V. E. Ivory
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26951]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'FIREBRAND' TREVISON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>&#8220;FIREBRAND&#8221; TREVISON</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 384px; height: 571px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 384px;'>
+INSTINCTIVELY EACH KNEW THE OTHER FOR A FOE. [<i>Page 25</i>]<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:2.2em; margin-top:1em;'>&#8220;FIREBRAND&#8221;</p>
+<p style=' font-size:2.2em; margin-bottom:1.3em;'>TREVISON</p>
+<p>BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:3em;'>CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>THE VENGENCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE,</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y,</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:3em;'>THE RANGE BOSS, <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Etc.</span></p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>ILLUSTRATED BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>P. V. E. IVORY</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title=''  /><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' margin-top:2em;'>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</p>
+<p style=' margin-bottom:1em;'>PUBLISHERS&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>Made in the United States of America</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'>
+<p>Copyright</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>A. C. McClurg &amp; Co.</p>
+<p>1918</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>Published September, 1918</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p><i>Copyrighted in Great Britain</i></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p>
+</div>
+
+<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Rider of the Black Horse</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_RIDER_OF_THE_BLACK_HORSE'>1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In Which Hatred is Born</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_IN_WHICH_HATRED_IS_BORN'>10</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Beating a Good Man</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_BEATING_A_GOOD_MAN'>30</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Long Arm of Power</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THE_LONG_ARM_OF_POWER'>42</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Telegram and a Girl</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_A_TELEGRAM_AND_A_GIRL'>53</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Judicial Puppet</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_A_JUDICIAL_PUPPET'>71</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Two Letters Go East</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_TWO_LETTERS_GO_EAST'>79</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Chaos of Creation</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_THE_CHAOS_OF_CREATION'>82</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Straight Talk</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_STRAIGHT_TALK'>93</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Spirit of Manti</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_THE_SPIRIT_OF_MANTI'>100</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>For the &#8220;Kiddies&#8221;</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_FOR_THE__KIDDIES'>109</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Exposed to the Sunlight</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_EXPOSED_TO_THE_SUNLIGHT'>113</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Another Letter</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_ANOTHER_LETTER'>130</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Rumble Of War</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_A_RUMBLE_OF_WAR'>137</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Mutual Benefit Association</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_A_MUTUAL_BENEFIT_ASSOCIATION'>146</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Wherein A Woman Lies</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_WHEREIN_A_WOMAN_LIES'>151</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Justice Vs. Law</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_JUSTICE_VS_LAW'>155</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Law Invoked and Defied</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_LAW_INVOKED_AND_DEFIED'>169</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Woman Rides in Vain</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_A_WOMAN_RIDES_IN_VAIN'>183</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>And Rides Again&mdash;in Vain</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_AND_RIDES_AGAIN_IN_VAIN'>192</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Another Woman Rides</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_ANOTHER_WOMAN_RIDES'>209</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Man Errs&mdash;and Pays</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_A_MAN_ERRS_AND_PAYS'>221</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>First Principles</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_FIRST_PRINCIPLES'>234</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Another Woman Lies</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_ANOTHER_WOMAN_LIES'>253</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In the Dark</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_IN_THE_DARK'>264</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVI</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Ashes</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVI_THE_ASHES'>273</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Fight</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVII_THE_FIGHT'>290</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVIII</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Dregs</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVIII_THE_DREGS'>310</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIX</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Calm</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIX_THE_CALM'>321</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Illustrations</p>
+</div>
+
+<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto'>
+<col style='width:80%;' />
+<col style='width:20%;' />
+<tr>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Instinctively each knew the other for a foe.</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>&#8220;You are going to marry me&mdash;some day. That&#8217;s what I think of you!&#8221;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>&#8220;You men are blind. Corrigan is a crook who will stop at nothing.&#8221;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>283</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>&#8220;Firebrand&#8221; Trevison</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_THE_RIDER_OF_THE_BLACK_HORSE' id='I_THE_RIDER_OF_THE_BLACK_HORSE'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3>THE RIDER OF THE BLACK HORSE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The trail from the Diamond K broke around the
+base of a low hill dotted thickly with scraggly oak
+and fir, then stretched away, straight and almost level
+(except for a deep cut where the railroad gang and a
+steam shovel were eating into a hundred-foot hill) to
+Manti. A month before, there had been no Manti, and
+six months before that there had been no railroad. The
+railroad and the town had followed in the wake of a
+party of khaki-clad men that had made reasonably fast
+progress through the country, leaving a trail of wooden
+stakes and little stone monuments behind. Previously,
+an agent of the railroad company had bartered through,
+securing a right-of-way. The fruit of the efforts of
+these men was a dark gash on a sun-scorched level,
+and two lines of steel laid as straight as skilled eye and
+transit could make them&mdash;and Manti.</p>
+<p>Manti could not be overlooked, for the town obtruded
+upon the vision from where &#8220;Brand&#8221; Trevison
+was jogging along the Diamond K trail astride his big
+black horse, Nigger. Manti dominated the landscape,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>
+not because it was big and imposing, but because it
+was new. Manti&#8217;s buildings were scattered&mdash;there had
+been no need for crowding; but from a distance&mdash;from
+Trevison&#8217;s distance, for instance, which was a matter
+of three miles or so&mdash;Manti looked insignificant, toy-like,
+in comparison with the vast world on whose bosom
+it sat. Manti seemed futile, ridiculous. But Trevison
+knew that the coming of the railroad marked an epoch,
+that the two thin, thread-like lines of steel were the
+tentacles of the man-made monster that had gripped
+the East&mdash;business reaching out for newer fields&mdash;and
+that Manti, futile and ridiculous as it seemed, was an
+outpost fortified by unlimited resource. Manti had
+come to stay.</p>
+<p>And the cattle business was going, Trevison knew.
+The railroad company had built corrals at Manti, and
+Trevison knew they would be needed for several years
+to come. But he could foresee the day when they
+would be replaced by building and factory. Business
+was extending its lines, cattle must retreat before them.
+Several homesteaders had already appeared in the
+country, erecting fences around their claims. One of
+the homesteaders, when Trevison had come upon him
+a few days before, had impertinently inquired why
+Trevison did not fence the Diamond K range. Fence
+in five thousand acres! It had never been done in
+this section of the country. Trevison had permitted
+himself a cold grin, and had kept his answer to himself.
+The incident was not important, but it foreshadowed
+a day when a dozen like inquiries would make
+the building of a range fence imperative.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></p>
+<p>Trevison already felt the irritation of congestion&mdash;the
+presence of the homesteaders nettled him. He
+frowned as he rode. A year ago he would have sold
+out&mdash;cattle, land and buildings&mdash;at the market price.
+But at that time he had not known the value of his
+land. Now&mdash;</p>
+<p>He kicked Nigger in the ribs and straightened in the
+saddle, grinning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s not for sale now&mdash;eh, Nig?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Five minutes later he halted the black at the crest
+of the big railroad cut and looked over the edge appraisingly.
+Fifty laborers&mdash;directed by a mammoth personage
+in dirty blue overalls, boots, woolen shirt, and a
+wide-brimmed felt hat, and with a face undeniably
+Irish&mdash;were working frenziedly to keep pace with the
+huge steam shovel, whose iron jaws were biting into
+the earth with a regularity that must have been discouraging
+to its human rivals. A train of flat-cars,
+almost loaded, was on the track of the cut, and a dinky
+engine attached to them wheezed steam from a safety
+valve, the engineer and fireman lounging out of the
+cab window, lazily watching.</p>
+<p>Patrick Carson, the personage&mdash;construction boss,
+good-natured, keen, observant&mdash;was leaning against
+a boulder at the side of the track, talking to the engineer
+at the instant Trevison appeared at the top of the cut.
+He glanced up, his eyes lighting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s thot mon, Trevison, ag&#8217;in, Murph&#8217;,&#8221; he
+said to the engineer. &#8220;Bedad, he&#8217;s a pitcher now,
+ain&#8217;t he?&#8221;</p>
+<p>An imposing figure Trevison certainly was. Horse
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>
+and rider were outlined against the sky, and in the dear
+light every muscle and feature of man and beast stood
+but boldly and distinctly. The big black horse was a
+powerful brute, tall and rangy, with speed and courage
+showing plainly in contour, nostril and eye; and
+with head and ears erect he stood motionless, statuesque,
+heroic. His rider seemed to have been proportioned
+to fit the horse. Tall, slender of waist,
+broad of shoulder, straight, he sat loosely in the saddle
+looking at the scene below him, unconscious of the
+admiration he excited. Poetic fancies stirred Carson
+vaguely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Luk at &#8217;im now, Murph; wid his big hat, his leather
+pants, his spurs, an&#8217; the rist av his conthraptions!
+There&#8217;s a divvil av a conthrast here now, if ye&#8217;d only
+glimpse it. This civillyzation, ripraysinted be this railroad,
+don&#8217;t seem to fit, noways. It&#8217;s like it had butted
+into a pitcher book! Ain&#8217;t he a darlin&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve never seen him up close,&#8221; said Murphy. There
+was none of Carson&#8217;s enthusiasm in his voice. &#8220;It&#8217;s
+always seemed to me that a felluh who rigs himself out
+like that has got a lot of show-off stuff in him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The first time I clapped me eyes on wan av them
+cowbhoys I thought so, too,&#8221; said Carson. &#8220;That was
+back on the other section. But I seen so manny av
+them rigged out like thot, thot I comminced to askin&#8217;
+questions. It&#8217;s a domned purposeful rig, mon. The
+big felt hat is a daisy for keepin&#8217; off the sun, an&#8217; that
+gaudy bit av a rag around his neck keeps the sun and
+sand from blisterin&#8217; the skin. The leather pants is
+to keep his legs from gettin&#8217; clawed up be the thorns
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>
+av prickly pear an&#8217; what not, which he&#8217;s got to ride
+through, an&#8217; the high heels is to keep his feet from
+slippin&#8217; through the stirrups. A kid c&#8217;ud tell ye what
+he carries the young cannon for, an&#8217; why he wears it
+so low on his hip. Ye&#8217;ve nivver seen him up close, eh
+Murph&#8217;? Well, I&#8217;m askin&#8217; him down so&#8217;s ye can have
+a good look at him.&#8221; He stepped back from the
+boulder and waved a hand at Trevison, shouting:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Make it a real visit, bhoy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll be pullin&#8217; out of here before he can get around,&#8221;
+said Murphy, noting that the last car was almost filled.</p>
+<p>Carson chuckled. &#8220;Hold tight,&#8221; he warned; &#8220;he&#8217;s
+comin&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The side of the cut was steep, and the soft sand and
+clay did not make a secure footing. But when the black
+received the signal from Trevison he did not hesitate.
+Crouching like a great cat at the edge, he slid his forelegs
+over until his hoofs sank deep into the side of the
+cut. Then with a gentle lurch he drew his hind legs
+after him, and an instant later was gingerly descending,
+his rider leaning far back in the saddle, the reins held
+loosely in his hands.</p>
+<p>It looked simple enough, the way the black was doing
+it, and Trevison&#8217;s demeanor indicated perfect trust in
+the animal and in his own skill as a rider. But the
+laborers ceased working and watched, grouped, gesturing;
+the staccato coughing of the steam shovel died
+gaspingly, as the engineer shut off the engine and stood,
+rooted, his mouth agape; the fireman in the dinky
+engine held tightly to the cab window. Murphy muttered
+in astonishment, and Carson chuckled admiringly,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+for the descent was a full hundred feet, and there were
+few men in the railroad gang that would have dared to
+risk the wall on foot.</p>
+<p>The black had gained impetus with distance. A third
+of the slope had been covered when he struck some
+loose earth that shifted with his weight and carried
+his hind quarters to one side and off balance. Instantly
+the rider swung his body toward the wall of the cut,
+twisted in the saddle and swung the black squarely
+around, the animal scrambling like a cat. The black
+stood, braced, facing the crest of the cut, while the
+dislodged earth, preceded by pebbles and small boulders,
+clattered down behind him. Then, under the
+urge of Trevison&#8217;s gentle hand and voice, the black
+wheeled again and faced the descent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t ride a horse down there for the damned
+railroad!&#8221; declared Murphy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thrue for ye&mdash;ye c&#8217;udn&#8217;t,&#8221; grinned Carson.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A man could ride anywhere with a horse like that!&#8221;
+remarked the fireman, fascinated.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ye&#8217;d have brought a cropper in that slide, an&#8217; the
+road wud be minus a coal-heaver!&#8221; said Carson.
+&#8220;Wud ye luk at him now!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The black was coming down, forelegs asprawl, his
+hind quarters sliding in the sand. Twice as his fore-hoofs
+struck some slight obstruction his hind quarters
+lifted and he stood, balanced, on his forelegs, and each
+time Trevison averted the impending catastrophe by
+throwing himself far back in the saddle and slapping
+the black&#8217;s hips sharply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s a circus rider!&#8221; shouted Carson, gleefully.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+&#8220;He&#8217;s got the coolest head of anny mon I iver seen!
+He&#8217;s a divvil, thot mon!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The descent was spectacular, but it was apparent
+that Trevison cared little for its effect upon his audience,
+for as he struck the level and came riding toward
+Carson and the others, there was no sign of self-consciousness
+in his face or manner. He smiled faintly,
+though, as a cheer from the laborers reached his ears.
+In the next instant he had halted Nigger near the dinky
+engine, and Carson was introducing him to the engineer
+and fireman.</p>
+<p>Looking at Trevison &#8220;close up,&#8221; Murphy was constrained
+to mentally label him &#8220;some man,&#8221; and he
+regretted his deprecatory words of a few minutes
+before. Plainly, there was no &#8220;show-off stuff&#8221; in
+Trevison. His feat of riding down the wall of the cut
+had not been performed to impress anyone; the look
+of reckless abandon in the otherwise serene eyes that
+held Murphy&#8217;s steadily, convinced the engineer that the
+man had merely responded to a dare-devil impulse.
+There was something in Trevison&#8217;s appearance that
+suggested an entire disregard of fear. The engineer
+had watched the face of a brother of his craft one night
+when the latter had been driving a roaring monster
+down a grade at record-breaking speed into a wall of
+rain-soaked darkness out of which might thunder at
+any instant another roaring monster, coming in the
+opposite direction. There had been a mistake in orders,
+and the train was running against time to make a
+switch. Several times during the ride Murphy had
+caught a glimpse of the engineer&#8217;s face, and the eyes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+had haunted him since&mdash;defiance of death, contempt
+of consequences, had been reflected in them. Trevison&#8217;s
+eyes reminded him of the engineer&#8217;s. But in Trevison&#8217;s
+eyes was an added expression&mdash;cold humor.
+The engineer of Murphy&#8217;s recollection would have met
+death dauntlessly. Trevison would meet it no less
+dauntlessly, but would mock at it. Murphy looked
+long and admiringly at him, noting the deep chest, the
+heavy muscles, the blue-black sheen of his freshly-shaven
+chin and jaw under the tan; the firm, mobile
+mouth, the aggressive set to his head. Murphy set his
+age down at twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Murphy
+was sixty himself&mdash;the age that appreciates, and
+secretly envies, the virility of youth. Carson was complimenting
+Trevison on his descent of the wall of the
+cut.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re a daisy rider, me bhoy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nigger&#8217;s a clever horse,&#8221; smiled Trevison. Murphy
+was pleased that he was giving the animal the
+credit. &#8220;Nigger&#8217;s well trained. He&#8217;s wiser than some
+men. Tricky, too.&#8221; He patted the sleek, muscular
+neck of the beast and the animal whinnied gently.
+&#8220;He&#8217;s careful of his master, though,&#8221; laughed Trevison.
+&#8220;A man pulled a gun on me, right after I&#8217;d got
+Nigger. He had the drop, and he meant business. I
+had to shoot. To disconcert the fellow, I had to jump
+Nigger against him. Since then, whenever Nigger sees
+a gun in anyone&#8217;s hand, he thinks it&#8217;s time to bowl that
+man over. There&#8217;s no holding him. He won&#8217;t even
+stand for anyone pulling a handkerchief out of a hip
+pocket when I&#8217;m on him.&#8221; Trevison grinned. &#8220;Try
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+it, Carson, but get that boulder between you and Nigger
+before you do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t like the look av the baste&#8217;s eye,&#8221; declined
+the Irishman. &#8220;I wudn&#8217;t doubt ye&#8217;re worrud for the
+wurrold. But he wudn&#8217;t jump a mon divvil a bit quicker
+than his master, or I&#8217;m a sinner!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s eyes twinkled. &#8220;You&#8217;re a good construction
+boss, Carson. But I&#8217;m glad to see that you&#8217;re getting
+more considerate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Av what?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of your men.&#8221; Trevison glanced back; he had
+looked once before, out of the tail of his eye. The
+laborers were idling in the cut, enjoying the brief rest,
+taking advantage of Carson&#8217;s momentary dereliction,
+for the last car had been filled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll be rayported yet, begob!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson waved his hands, and the laborers dove for
+the flat-cars. When the last man was aboard, the
+engine coughed and moved slowly away. Carson
+climbed into the engine-cab, with a shout: &#8220;So-long
+bhoy!&#8221; to Trevison. The latter held Nigger with a
+firm rein, for the animal was dancing at the noise made
+by the engine, and as the cars filed past him, running
+faster now, the laborers grinned at him and respectfully
+raised their hats. For they had come from one
+of the Latin countries of Europe, and for them, in the
+person of this heroic figure of a man who had ridden
+his horse down the steep wall of the cut, was romance.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_IN_WHICH_HATRED_IS_BORN' id='II_IN_WHICH_HATRED_IS_BORN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3>IN WHICH HATRED IS BORN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>For some persons romance dwells in the new and
+the unusual, and for other persons it dwells not
+at all. Certain of Rosalind Benham&#8217;s friends would
+have been able to see nothing but the crudities and
+squalor of Manti, viewing it as Miss Benham did,
+from one of the windows of her father&#8217;s private car,
+which early that morning had been shunted upon a
+switch at the outskirts of town. Those friends would
+have seen nothing but a new town of weird and picturesque
+buildings, with more saloons than seemed to
+be needed in view of the noticeable lack of citizens.
+They would have shuddered at the dust-windrowed
+street, the litter of refuse, the dismal lonesomeness, the
+forlornness, the utter isolation, the desolation. Those
+friends would have failed to note the vast, silent reaches
+of green-brown plain that stretched and yawned into
+aching distances; the wonderfully blue and cloudless
+sky that covered it; they would have overlooked the
+timber groves that spread here and there over the
+face of the land, with their lure of mystery. No
+thoughts of the bigness of this country would have
+crept in upon them&mdash;except as they might have been
+reminded of the dreary distance from the glitter and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+the tinsel of the East. The mountains, distant and
+shining, would have meant nothing to them; the strong,
+pungent aroma of the sage might have nauseated them.</p>
+<p>But Miss Benham had caught her first glimpse of
+Manti and the surrounding country from a window of
+her berth in the car that morning just at dawn, and
+she loved it. She had lain for some time cuddled up
+in her bed, watching the sun rise over the distant mountains,
+and the breath of the sage, sweeping into the
+half-opened window, had carried with it something
+stronger&mdash;the lure of a virgin country.</p>
+<p>Aunt Agatha Benham, chaperon, forty&mdash;maiden
+lady from choice&mdash;various uncharitable persons hinted
+humorously of pursued eligibles&mdash;found Rosalind gazing
+ecstatically out of the berth window when she stirred
+and awoke shortly after nine. Agatha climbed out of
+her berth and sat on its edge, yawning sleepily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is Manti, I suppose,&#8221; she said acridly, shoving
+the curtain aside and looking out of the window.
+&#8220;We should consider ourselves fortunate not to have
+had an adventure with Indians or outlaws. We have
+<i>that</i> to be thankful for, at least.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Agatha&#8217;s sarcasm failed to penetrate the armor of
+Rosalind&#8217;s unconcern&mdash;as Agatha&#8217;s sarcasms always
+did. Agatha occupied a place in Rosalind&#8217;s affections,
+but not in her scheme of enjoyment. Since she <i>must</i>
+be chaperoned, Agatha was acceptable to her. But
+that did not mean that she made a confidante of Agatha.
+For Agatha was looking at the world through the eyes
+of Forty, and the vision of Twenty is somewhat more
+romantic.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Whatever your father thought of in permitting
+you to come out here is a mystery to me,&#8221; pursued
+Agatha severely, as she fussed with her hair. &#8220;It was
+like him, though, to go to all this trouble&mdash;for me&mdash;merely
+to satisfy your curiosity about the country. I
+presume we shall be returning shortly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be impatient, Aunty,&#8221; said the girl, still gazing
+out of the window. &#8220;I intend to stretch my legs
+before I return.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mercy!&#8221; gasped Agatha; &#8220;such language! This
+barbaric country has affected you already, my dear.
+Legs!&#8221; She summoned horror into her expression,
+but it was lost on Rosalind, who still gazed out of the
+window. Indeed, from a certain light in the girl&#8217;s eyes
+it might be adduced that she took some delight in shocking
+Agatha.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall stay here quite some time, I think,&#8221; said
+Rosalind. &#8220;Daddy said there was no hurry; that he
+might come out here in a month, himself. And I have
+been dying to get away from the petty conventionalities
+of the East. I am going to be absolutely human for
+a while, Aunty. I am going to &#8216;rough it&#8217;&mdash;that is, as
+much as one can rough it when one is domiciled in a
+private car. I am going to get a horse and have a look
+at the country. And Aunty&mdash;&#8221; here the girl&#8217;s voice
+came chokingly, as though some deep emotion agitated
+her &#8220;&mdash;I am going to ride &#8216;straddle&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She did not look to see whether Agatha had survived
+this second shock&mdash;but Agatha had survived
+many such shocks. It was only when, after a silence of
+several minutes, Agatha spoke again, that the girl
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+seemed to remember there was anybody in the compartment
+with her. Agatha&#8217;s voice was laden with
+contempt:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know what you see in this outlandish
+place to compensate for what you miss at home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl did not look around. &#8220;A man on a black
+horse, Aunty,&#8221; she said. &#8220;He has passed here twice.
+I have never seen such a horse. I don&#8217;t remember to
+have ever seen a man quite like the rider. He looks
+positively&mdash;er&mdash;<i>heroish</i>! He is built like a Roman
+gladiator, he rides the black horse as though he had
+been sculptured on it, and his head has a set that makes
+one feel he has a mind of his own. He has furnished
+me with the only thrill that I have felt since we left
+New York!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He hasn&#8217;t seen <i>you</i>!&#8221; said Agatha, coldly; &#8220;of
+course you made sure of <i>that</i>?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl looked mischievously at the older woman.
+She ran her fingers through her hair&mdash;brown and vigorous-looking&mdash;then
+shaded her eyes with her hands
+and gazed at her reflection in a mirror near by. In
+deshabille she looked fresh and bewitching. She had
+looked like a radiant goddess to &#8220;Brand&#8221; Trevison,
+when he had accidentally caught a glimpse of her face
+at the window while she had been watching him. He
+had not known that the lady had just awakened from
+her beauty sleep. He would have sworn that she
+needed no beauty sleep. And he had deliberately ridden
+past the car again, hoping to get another glimpse
+of her. The girl smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am not so positive about that, Aunty. Let us
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+not be prudish. If he saw me, he made no sign, and
+therefore he is a gentleman.&#8221; She looked out of the
+window and smiled again. &#8220;There he is now, Aunty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was Agatha who parted the curtains, this time.
+The horseman&#8217;s face was toward the window, and he
+saw her. An expression of puzzled astonishment
+glowed in his eyes, superseded quickly by disappointment,
+whereat Rosalind giggled softly and hid her
+tousled head in a pillow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The impertinent brute! Rosalind, he dared to
+look directly at me, and I am sure he would have
+winked at me in another instant! A gentleman!&#8221; she
+said, coldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be severe, Aunty. I&#8217;m sure he is a gentleman,
+for all his curiosity. See&mdash;there he is, riding
+away without so much as looking back!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Half an hour later the two women entered the dining-room
+just as a big, rather heavy-featured, but handsome
+man, came through the opposite door. He
+greeted both ladies effusively, and smilingly looked at
+his watch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You over-slept this morning, ladies&mdash;don&#8217;t you
+think? It&#8217;s after ten. I&#8217;ve been rummaging around
+town, getting acquainted. It&#8217;s rather an unfinished
+place, after the East. But in time&mdash;&#8221; He made a
+gesture, perhaps a silent prophecy that one day Manti
+would out-strip New York, and bowed the ladies to
+seats at table, talking while the colored waiter moved
+obsequiously about them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought at first that your father was over-enthusiastic
+about Manti, Miss Benham,&#8221; he continued.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+&#8220;But the more I see of it the firmer becomes my conviction
+that your father was right. There are tremendous
+possibilities for growth. Even now it is a
+rather fertile country. We shall make it hum, once
+the railroad and the dam are completed. It is a logical
+site for a town&mdash;there is no other within a hundred
+miles in any direction.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you are to anticipate the town&#8217;s growth&mdash;isn&#8217;t
+that it, Mr. Corrigan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You put it very comprehensively, Miss Benham;
+but perhaps it would be better to say that I am the
+advance agent of prosperity&mdash;that sounds rather less
+mercenary. We must not allow the impression to get
+abroad that mere money is to be the motive power
+behind our efforts.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But money-making is the real motive, after all?&#8221;
+said Miss Benham, dryly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I submit there are several driving forces in life,
+and that money-making is not the least compelling of
+them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The other forces?&#8221; It seemed to Corrigan that
+Miss Benham&#8217;s face was very serious. But Agatha,
+who knew Rosalind better than Corrigan knew her,
+was aware that the girl was merely demurely sarcastic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Love and hatred are next,&#8221; he said, slowly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You would place money-making before love?&#8221;
+Rosalind bantered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Money adds the proper flavor to love,&#8221; laughed
+Corrigan. The laugh was laden with subtle significance
+and he looked straight at the girl, a deep fire
+slumbering in his eyes. &#8220;Yes,&#8221; he said slowly,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+&#8220;money-making is a great passion. I have it. But I
+can hate, and love. And when I do either, it will be
+strongly. And then&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Agatha cleared her throat impatiently. Corrigan
+colored slightly, and Miss Benham smothered something,
+artfully directing the conversation into less personal
+channels:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are going to build manufactories, organize
+banks, build municipal power-houses, speculate in real
+estate, and such things, I suppose?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And build a dam. We already have a bank here,
+Miss Benham.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will father be interested in those things?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Silently. You understand, that being president of
+the railroad, your father must keep in the background.
+The actual promoting of these enterprises will be done
+by me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Miss Benham looked dreamily out of the window.
+Then she turned to Corrigan and gazed at him meditatively,
+though the expression in her eyes was so
+obviously impersonal that it chilled any amorous emotion
+that Corrigan might have felt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you are right,&#8221; she said. &#8220;It must be
+thrilling to feel a conscious power over the destiny of
+a community, to direct its progress, to manage it, and&mdash;er&mdash;figuratively
+to grab industries by their&mdash;&#8221;
+She looked slyly at Agatha &#8220;&mdash;lower extremities and
+shake the dollars out of them. Yes,&#8221; she added,
+with a wistful glance through the window; &#8220;that must
+be more exciting than being merely in love.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Agatha again followed Rosalind&#8217;s gaze and saw the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+black horse standing in front of a store. She frowned,
+and observed stiffly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems to me that the people in these small
+places&mdash;such as Manti&mdash;are not capable of managing
+the large enterprises that Mr. Corrigan speaks of.&#8221;
+She looked at Rosalind, and the girl knew that she was
+deprecating the rider of the black horse. Rosalind
+smiled sweetly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I am sure there must be <i>some</i> intelligent persons
+among them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As a rule,&#8221; stated Corrigan, dogmatically, &#8220;the
+first citizens of any town are an uncouth and worthless
+set.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Four Hundred would take exception to that!&#8221;
+laughed Rosalind.</p>
+<p>Corrigan laughed with her. &#8220;You know what I
+mean, of course. Take Manti, for instance. Or any
+new western town. The lowest elements of society are
+represented; most of the people are very ignorant and
+criminal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl looked sharply at Corrigan, though he was
+not aware of the glance. Was there a secret understanding
+between Corrigan and Agatha? Had
+Corrigan also some knowledge of the rider&#8217;s pilgrimages
+past the car window? Both had maligned the
+rider. But the girl had seen intelligence on the face
+of the rider, and something in the set of his head had
+told her that he was not a criminal. And despite his
+picturesque rigging, and the atmosphere of the great
+waste places that seemed to envelop him, he had made
+a deeper impression on her than had Corrigan, darkly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
+handsome, well-groomed, a polished product of polite
+convention and breeding, whom her father wanted her
+to marry.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she said, looking at the black horse; &#8220;I
+intend to observe Manti&#8217;s citizens more closely before
+attempting to express an opinion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Half an hour later, in response to Corrigan&#8217;s invitation,
+Rosalind was walking down Manti&#8217;s one street,
+Corrigan beside her. Corrigan had donned khaki clothing,
+a broad, felt hat, boots, neckerchief. But in spite
+of the change of garments there was a poise, an atmosphere
+about him, that hinted strongly of the graces of
+civilization. Rosalind felt a flash of pride in him. He
+was big, masterful, fascinating.</p>
+<p>Manti seemed to be fraudulent, farcical, upon closer
+inspection. For one thing, its crudeness was more glaring,
+and its unpainted board fronts looked flimsy, transient.
+Compared to the substantial buildings of the
+East, Manti&#8217;s structures were hovels. Here was the
+primitive town in the first flush of its creation. Miss
+Benham did not laugh, for a mental picture rose before
+her&mdash;a bit of wild New England coast, a lowering sky,
+a group of Old-world pilgrims shivering around a
+blazing fire in the open, a ship in the offing. That also
+was a band of first citizens; that picture and the one
+made by Manti typified the spirit of America.</p>
+<p>There were perhaps twenty buildings. Corrigan took
+her into several of them. But, she noted, he did not
+take her into the store in front of which was the black
+horse. She was introduced to several of the proprietors.
+Twice she overheard parts of the conversation
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+carried on between Corrigan and the proprietors. In
+each case the conversation was the same:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you own this property?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The building.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who owns the land?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A company in New York.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan introduced himself as the manager of the
+company, and spoke of erecting an office. The two
+men spoke about their &#8220;leases.&#8221; The latter seemed
+to have been limited to two months.</p>
+<p>&#8220;See me before your lease expires,&#8221; she heard Corrigan
+tell the men.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does the railroad own the town site?&#8221; asked Rosalind
+as they emerged from the last store.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. And leases are going to be more valuable
+presently.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t mean that you are going to extort money
+from them&mdash;after they have gone to the expense of
+erecting buildings?&#8221;</p>
+<p>His smile was pleasant. &#8220;They will be treated with
+the utmost consideration, Miss Benham.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He ushered her into the bank. Like the other
+buildings, the bank was of frame construction. Its
+only resemblance to a bank was in the huge safe that
+stood in the rear of the room, and a heavy wire netting
+behind which ran a counter. Some chairs and a desk
+were behind the counter, and at the desk sat a man
+of probably forty, who got up at the entrance of his
+visitors and approached them, grinning and holding
+out a hand to Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So you&#8217;re here at last, Jeff,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I saw
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+the car on the switch this morning. The show will
+open pretty soon now, eh?&#8221; He looked inquiringly
+at Rosalind, and Corrigan presented her. She heard
+the man&#8217;s name, &#8220;Mr. Crofton Braman,&#8221; softly
+spoken by her escort, and she acknowledged the introduction
+formally and walked to the door, where she
+stood looking out into the street.</p>
+<p>Braman repelled her&mdash;she did not know why. A
+certain crafty gleam of his eyes, perhaps, strangely
+blended with a bold intentness as he had looked at her;
+a too effusive manner; a smoothly ingratiating smile&mdash;these
+evidences of character somehow made her link
+him with schemes and plots.</p>
+<p>She did not reflect long over Braman. Across the
+street she saw the rider of the black horse standing
+beside the animal at a hitching rail in front of the
+store that Corrigan had passed without entering.
+Viewed from this distance, the rider&#8217;s face was more
+distinct, and she saw that he was good-looking&mdash;quite
+as good-looking as Corrigan, though of a different type.
+Standing, he did not seem to be so tall as Corrigan,
+nor was he quite so bulky. But he was lithe and powerful,
+and in his movements, as he unhitched the black
+horse, threw the reins over its head and patted its neck,
+was an ease and grace that made Rosalind&#8217;s eyes sparkle
+with admiration.</p>
+<p>The rider seemed to be in no hurry to mount his
+horse. The girl was certain that twice as he patted
+the animal&#8217;s neck he stole glances at her, and a stain
+appeared in her cheeks, for she remembered the car
+window.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p>
+<p>And then she heard a voice greet the rider. A man
+came out of the door of one of the saloons, glanced
+at the rider and raised his voice, joyously:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if it ain&#8217;t ol&#8217; &#8216;Brand&#8217;! Where in hell you
+been keepin&#8217; yourself? I ain&#8217;t seen you for a week!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Friendship was speaking here, and the girl&#8217;s heart
+leaped in sympathy. She watched with a smile as the
+other man reached the rider&#8217;s side and wrung his hand
+warmly. Such effusiveness would have been thought
+hypocritical in the East; humanness was always
+frowned upon. But what pleased the girl most was
+this evidence that the rider was well liked. Additional
+evidence on this point collected quickly. It came from
+several doors, in the shapes of other men who had
+heard the first man&#8217;s shout, and presently the rider
+was surrounded by many friends.</p>
+<p>The girl was deeply interested. She forgot Braman,
+Corrigan&mdash;forgot that she was standing in the doorway
+of the bank. She was seeing humanity stripped of
+conventionalities; these people were not governed by
+the intimidating regard for public opinion that so effectively
+stifled warm impulses among the persons she
+knew.</p>
+<p>She heard another man call to him, and she found
+herself saying: &#8220;&#8216;Brand&#8217;! What an odd name!&#8221; But
+it seemed to fit him; he was of a type that one sees
+rarely&mdash;clean, big, athletic, virile, magnetic. His personality
+dominated the group; upon him interest centered
+heavily. Nor did his popularity appear to destroy
+his poise or make him self-conscious. The girl watched
+closely for signs of that. Had he shown the slightest
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+trace of self-worship she would have lost interest in
+him. He appeared to be a trifle embarrassed, and that
+made him doubly attractive to her. He bantered gayly
+with the men, and several times his replies to some
+quip convulsed the others.</p>
+<p>And then while she dreamily watched him, she heard
+several voices insist that he &#8220;show Nigger off.&#8221; He
+demurred, and when they again insisted, he spoke lowly
+to them, and she felt their concentrated gaze upon her.
+She knew that he had declined to &#8220;show Nigger off&#8221;
+because of her presence. &#8220;Nigger,&#8221; she guessed, was
+his horse. She secretly hoped he would overcome his
+prejudice, for she loved the big black, and was certain
+that any performance he participated in would be well
+worth seeing. So, in order to influence the rider she
+turned her back, pretending not to be interested. But
+when she heard exclamations of satisfaction from the
+group of men she wheeled again, to see that the rider
+had mounted and was sitting in the saddle, grinning
+at a man who had produced a harmonica and was rubbing
+it on a sleeve of his shirt, preparatory to placing
+it to his lips.</p>
+<p>The rider had gone too far now to back out, and
+Rosalind watched him in frank curiosity. And in the
+next instant, when the strains of the harmonica smote
+the still morning air, Nigger began to prance.</p>
+<p>What followed reminded the girl of a scene in the
+ring of a circus. The horse, proud, dignified, began
+to pace slowly to the time of the accompanying music,
+executing difficult steps that must have tried the patience
+of both animal and trainer during the teaching period;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+the rider, lithe, alert, proud also, smiling his pleasure.</p>
+<p>Rosalind stood there long, watching. It was a
+clever exhibition, and she found herself wondering
+about the rider. Had he always lived in the West?</p>
+<p>The animal performed a dozen feats of the circus
+arena, and the girl was so deeply interested in him that
+she did not observe Corrigan when he emerged from
+the bank, stepped down into the street and stood watching
+the rider. She noticed him though, when the black,
+forced to her side of the street through the necessity
+of executing a turn, passed close to the easterner. And
+then, with something of a shock, she saw Corrigan
+smiling derisively. At the sound of applause from the
+group on the opposite side of the street, Corrigan&#8217;s
+derision became a sneer. Miss Benham felt resentment;
+a slight color stained her cheeks. For she could
+not understand why Corrigan should show displeasure
+over this clean and clever amusement. She was looking
+full at Corrigan when he turned and caught her gaze.
+The light in his eyes was positively venomous.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a rather dramatic bid for your interest, isn&#8217;t
+it, Miss Benham?&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>His voice came during a lull that followed the
+applause. It reached Rosalind, full and resonant. It
+carried to the rider of the black horse, and glancing sidelong
+at him, Rosalind saw his face whiten under the
+deep tan upon it. It carried, too, to the other side
+of the street, and the girl saw faces grow suddenly
+tense; noted the stiffening of bodies. The flat, ominous
+silence that followed was unreal and oppressive. Out
+of it came the rider&#8217;s voice as he urged the black to a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+point within three or four paces of Corrigan and sat
+in the saddle, looking at him. And now for the first
+time Rosalind had a clear, full view of the rider&#8217;s face
+and a quiver of trepidation ran over her. For the lean
+jaws were corded, the mouth was firm and set&mdash;she
+knew his teeth were clenched; it was the face of a
+man who would not be trifled with. His chin was
+shoved forward slightly; somehow it helped to express
+the cold humor that shone in his narrowed, steady eyes.
+His voice, when he spoke to Corrigan, had a metallic
+quality that rang ominously in the silence that had
+continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Back up your play or take it back,&#8221; he said slowly.</p>
+<p>Corrigan had not changed his position. He stared
+fixedly at the rider; his only sign of emotion over the
+latter&#8217;s words was a quickening of the eyes. He idly
+tapped with his fingers on the sleeve of his khaki shirt,
+where the arm passed under them to fold over the
+other. His voice easily matched the rider&#8217;s in its quality
+of quietness:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My conversation was private. You are interfering
+without cause.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Watching the rider, filled with a sudden, breathless
+premonition of impending tragedy, Rosalind saw his
+eyes glitter with the imminence of physical action. Distressed,
+stirred by an impulse to avert what threatened,
+she took a step forward, speaking rapidly to Corrigan:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Corrigan, this is positively silly! You know
+you were hardly discreet!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan smiled coldly, and the girl knew that it
+was not a question of right or wrong between the two
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+men, but a conflict of spirit. She did not know that
+hatred had been born here; that instinctively each knew
+the other for a foe, and that this present clash was to
+be merely one battle of the war that would be waged
+between them if both survived.</p>
+<p>Not for an instant did Corrigan&#8217;s eyes wander from
+those of the rider. He saw from them that he might
+expect no further words. None came. The rider&#8217;s
+right hand fell to the butt of the pistol that swung
+low on his right hip. Simultaneously, Corrigan&#8217;s hand
+dropped to his hip pocket.</p>
+<p>Rosalind saw the black horse lunge forward as though
+propelled by a sudden spring. A dust cloud rose from
+his hoofs, and Corrigan was lost in it. When the
+dust swirled away, Corrigan was disclosed to the girl&#8217;s
+view, doubled queerly on the ground, face down. The
+black horse had struck him with its shoulder&mdash;he
+seemed to be badly hurt.</p>
+<p>For a moment the girl stood, swaying, looking around
+appealingly, startled wonder, dismay and horror in her
+eyes. It had happened so quickly that she was stunned.
+She had but one conscious emotion&mdash;thankfulness that
+neither man had used his pistol.</p>
+<p>No one moved. The girl thought some of them
+might have come to Corrigan&#8217;s assistance. She did
+not know that the ethics forbade interference, that a
+fight was between the fighters until one acknowledged
+defeat.</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s face was in the dust; he had not moved.
+The black horse stood, quietly now, several feet distant,
+and presently the rider dismounted, walked to Corrigan
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+and turned him over. He worked the fallen man&#8217;s
+arms and legs, and moved his neck, then knelt and
+listened at his chest. He got up and smiled mirthlessly
+at the girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s just knocked out, Miss Benham. It&#8217;s nothing
+serious. Nigger&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You coward!&#8221; she interrupted, her voice thick with
+passion.</p>
+<p>His lips whitened, but he smiled faintly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nigger&mdash;&#8221; he began again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Coward! Coward!&#8221; she repeated, standing rigid
+before him, her hands clenched, her lips stiff with scorn.</p>
+<p>He smiled resignedly and turned away. She stood
+watching him, hating him, hurling mental anathemas
+after him, until she saw him pass through the doorway
+of the bank. Then she turned to see Corrigan just
+getting up.</p>
+<p>Not a man in the group across the street had moved.
+They, too, had watched Trevison go into the bank, and
+now their glances shifted to the girl and Corrigan.
+Their sympathies, she saw plainly, were with Trevison;
+several of them smiled as the easterner got to his feet.</p>
+<p>Corrigan was pale and breathless, but he smiled at
+her and held her off when she essayed to help him
+brush the dust from his clothing. He did that himself,
+and mopped his face with a handkerchief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It wasn&#8217;t fair,&#8221; whispered the girl, sympathetically.
+&#8220;I almost wish that you had killed him!&#8221; she added,
+vindictively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My, what a fire-eater!&#8221; he said with a broad smile.
+She thought he looked handsomer with the dust upon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+him, than he had ever seemed when polished and
+immaculate.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you badly hurt?&#8221; she asked, with a concern
+that made him look quickly at her.</p>
+<p>He laughed and patted her arm lightly. &#8220;Not a bit
+hurt,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Come, those men are staring.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He escorted her to the step of the private car, and
+lingered a moment there to make his apology for his
+part in the trouble. He told her frankly, that he was
+to blame, knowing that Trevison&#8217;s action in riding him
+down would more than outweigh any resentment she
+might feel over his mistake in bringing about the clash
+in her presence.</p>
+<p>She graciously forgave him, and a little later she
+entered the car alone; he telling her that he would be
+in presently, after he returned from the station where
+he intended to send a telegram. She gave him a smile,
+standing on the platform of the car, dazzling, eloquent
+with promise. It made his heart leap with exultation,
+and as he went his way toward the station he voiced a
+sentiment:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Entirely worth being ridden down for.&#8221;</p>
+<p>But his jaws set savagely as he approached the station.
+He did not go into the station, but around the
+outside wall of it, passing between it and another building
+and coming at last to the front of the bank building.
+He had noted that the black horse was still
+standing in front of the bank building, and that the
+group of men had dispersed. The street was deserted.</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s movements became quick and sinister.
+He drew a heavy revolver out of a hip pocket, shoved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+its butt partly up his sleeve and concealed the cylinder
+and barrel in the palm of his hand. Then he stepped
+into the door of the bank. He saw Trevison standing
+at one of the grated windows of the wire netting, talking
+with Braman. Corrigan had taken several steps
+into the room before Trevison heard him, and then
+Trevison turned, to find himself looking into the gaping
+muzzle of Corrigan&#8217;s pistol.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You didn&#8217;t run,&#8221; said the latter. &#8220;Thought it was
+all over, I suppose. Well, it isn&#8217;t.&#8221; He was grinning
+coldly, and was now deliberate and unexcited, though
+two crimson spots glowed in his cheeks, betraying the
+presence of passion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t reach for that gun!&#8221; he warned Trevison.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll blow a hole through you if you wriggle a finger!&#8221;
+Watching Trevison, he spoke to Braman: &#8220;You got a
+back room here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The banker stepped around the end of the counter
+and opened a door behind the wire netting. &#8220;Right
+here,&#8221; he directed.</p>
+<p>Corrigan indicated the door with a jerking movement
+of the head. &#8220;Move!&#8221; he said shortly, to Trevison.
+The latter&#8217;s lips parted in a cold, amused grin, and he
+hesitated slightly, yielding presently.</p>
+<p>An instant later the three were standing in the middle
+of a large room, empty except for a cot upon which
+Braman slept, some clothing hanging on the walls, a
+bench and a chair. Corrigan ordered the banker to
+clear the room. When that had been done, Corrigan
+spoke again to the banker:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get his gun.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p>
+<p>A snapping alertness of the eyes indicated that Trevison
+knew what was coming. That was the reason he
+had been so quiescent this far; it was why he made no
+objection when Braman passed his hands over his clothing
+in search of other weapons, after his pistol had
+been lifted from its holster by the banker.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now get out of here and lock the doors!&#8221; ordered
+Corrigan. &#8220;And let nobody come in!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman retired, grinning expectantly.</p>
+<p>Then Corrigan backed away until he came to the
+wall. Reaching far up, he hung his revolver on a
+nail.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; he said to Trevison, his voice throaty from
+passion; &#8220;take off your damned foolish trappings. I&#8217;m
+going to knock hell out of you!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_BEATING_A_GOOD_MAN' id='III_BEATING_A_GOOD_MAN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3>BEATING A GOOD MAN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Trevison had not moved. He had watched the
+movements of the other closely, noting his huge
+bulk, his lithe motions, the play of his muscles as he
+backed across the room to dispose of the pistol. At
+Corrigan&#8217;s words though, Trevison&#8217;s eyes glowed with
+a sudden fire, his teeth gleamed, his straight lips parting
+in a derisive smile. The other&#8217;s manner toward
+him had twanged the chord of animosity that had been
+between them since the first exchange of glances, and
+he was as eager as Corrigan for the clash that must
+now come. He had known that the first conflict had
+been an unfinished thing. He laughed in sheer delight,
+though that delight was tempered with savage determination.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Save your boasts,&#8221; he taunted.</p>
+<p>Corrigan sneered. &#8220;You won&#8217;t look so damned
+attractive when you leave this room.&#8221; He took off
+his hat and tossed it into a corner, then turned to Trevison
+with an ugly grin.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ready?&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quite.&#8221; Trevison had not accepted Corrigan&#8217;s
+suggestion about taking off his &#8220;damned foolish trappings,&#8221;
+and he still wore them&mdash;cartridge belt, leather
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+chaps, spurs. But now he followed Corrigan&#8217;s lead and
+threw his hat from him. Then he crouched and faced
+Corrigan.</p>
+<p>They circled cautiously, Trevison&#8217;s spurs jingling
+musically. Then Trevison went in swiftly, jabbing with
+his left, throwing off Corrigan&#8217;s vicious counter with
+the elbow, and ripping his right upward. The fist met
+Corrigan&#8217;s arm as the latter blocked, and the shock
+forced both men back a step. Corrigan grinned with
+malicious interest and crowded forward.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s good,&#8221; he said; &#8220;you&#8217;re not a novice. I
+hope you&#8217;re not a quitter. I&#8217;ve quite a bit to hand you
+for riding me down.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison grinned derisively, but made no answer.
+He knew he must save his wind for this man. Corrigan
+was strong, clever; his forearm, which had blocked
+Trevison&#8217;s uppercut, had seemed like a bar of steel.</p>
+<p>Trevison went in again with the grim purpose of
+discovering just how strong his antagonist was. Corrigan
+evaded a stiff left jab intended for his chin, and
+his own right cross missed as Trevison ducked into a
+clinch. With arms locked they strained, legs braced,
+their lungs heaving as they wrestled, doggedly.</p>
+<p>Corrigan stood like a post, not giving an inch. Vainly
+Trevison writhed, seeking a position which would
+betray a weakened muscle, but though he exerted every
+ounce of his own mighty strength Corrigan held him
+even. They broke at last, mutually, and Corrigan
+must have felt the leathery quality of Trevison&#8217;s muscles,
+for his face was set in serious lines. His eyes
+glittered malignantly as he caught a confident smile
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+on Trevison&#8217;s lips, and he bored in silently, swinging
+both hands.</p>
+<p>Trevison had been the cool boxer, carefully trying
+out his opponent. He had felt little emotion save that
+of self-protection. At the beginning of the fight he
+would have apologized to Corrigan&mdash;with reservations.
+Now he was stirred with the lust of battle.
+Corrigan&#8217;s malignance had struck a responsive passion
+in him, and the sodden impact of fist on flesh, the matching
+of strength against strength, the strain of iron
+muscles, the contact of their bodies, the sting and
+burn of blows, had aroused the latent savage in him.
+He was still cool, however, but it was the crafty coolness
+of the trained fighter, and as Corrigan crowded
+him he whipped in ripping blows that sent the big man&#8217;s
+head back. Corrigan paid little heed to the blows; he
+shook them off, grunting. Blood was trickling thinly
+from his lips; he spat bestially over Trevison&#8217;s shoulder
+in a clinch, and tried to sweep the latter from his
+feet.</p>
+<p>The agility of the cow-puncher saved him, and he
+went dancing out of harm&#8217;s way, his spurs jingling.
+Corrigan was after him with a rush. A heavy blow
+caught Trevison on the right side of the neck just below
+the ear and sent him, tottering, against the wall of the
+building, from which he rebounded like a rubber ball,
+smothering Corrigan with an avalanche of deadening
+straight-arm punches that brought a glassy stare into
+Corrigan&#8217;s eyes. The big man&#8217;s head wabbled, and
+Trevison crowded in, intent on ending the fight quickly,
+but Corrigan covered instinctively, and when Trevison
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+in his eagerness missed a blow, the big man clinched
+with him and hung on doggedly until his befoggled
+brain could clear. For a few minutes they rocked
+around the room, their heels thudding on the bare
+boards of the floor, creating sounds that filtered through
+the enclosing walls and smote the silence of the outside
+world with resonant rumblings. Mercilessly, Trevison
+hammered at the heavy head that sought a haven on
+his shoulder. Corrigan had been stunned and wanted
+no more long range work. He tried to lock his big
+arms around the other&#8217;s waist in an attempt to wrestle,
+realizing that in that sort of a contest lay his only
+hope of victory, but Trevison, agile, alert to his danger,
+slipped elusively from the grasping hands and
+thudded uppercuts to the other&#8217;s mouth and jaws that
+landed with sickening force. But none of the blows
+landed on a vital spot, and Corrigan hung grimly on.</p>
+<p>At last, lashing viciously, wriggling, squirming,
+swinging around in a wide circle to get out of Corrigan&#8217;s
+clutches, Trevison broke the clinch and stood off,
+breathing heavily, summoning his reserve strength for
+a finishing blow. Corrigan had been fearfully punished
+during the last few minutes, but he was gradually
+recovering from his dizziness, and he grinned hideously
+at Trevison through his smashed lips. He surged forward,
+reminding Trevison of a wounded bear, but
+Trevison retreated warily as he measured the distance
+from which he would drive the blow that would end
+it</p>
+<p>He was still retreating, describing a wide circle. He
+swung around toward the door through which Braman
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+had gone&mdash;his back was toward it. He did not see
+the door open slightly as he passed; he had not seen
+Braman&#8217;s face in the slight crevice that had been
+between door and jamb all along. Nor did he see the
+banker jab at his legs with the handle of a broom.
+But he felt the handle hit his legs. It tripped him,
+forcing him to lose his balance. As he fell he saw
+Corrigan&#8217;s eyes brighten, and he twisted sideways to
+escape a heavy blow that Corrigan aimed at him. He
+only partially evaded it&mdash;it struck him glancingly, a
+little to the left of the chin, stunning him, and he fell
+awkwardly, his left arm doubling under him. The
+agonizing pain that shot through the arm as he crumpled
+to the floor told him that it had been broken at
+the wrist. A queer stupor came upon him, during
+which he neither felt nor saw. Dimly, he sensed that
+Corrigan was striking at him; with a sort of vague
+half-consciousness he felt that the blows were landing.
+But they did not hurt, and he laughed at Corrigan&#8217;s
+futile efforts. The only feeling he had was a blind
+rage against Braman, for he was certain that it had
+been the banker who had tripped him. Then he saw
+the broom on the floor and the crevice in the doorway.
+He got to his feet some way, Corrigan hanging to
+him, raining blows upon him, and he laughed aloud as,
+his vision clearing a little, he saw Corrigan&#8217;s mouth,
+weak, open, drooling blood, and remembered that when
+Braman had tripped him Corrigan had hardly been in
+shape to do much effective hitting. He tottered away
+from Corrigan, taunting him, though afterwards he
+could not remember what his words were. Also, he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+heard Corrigan cursing him, though he could never
+remember <i>his</i> words, either. He tried to swing his
+left arm as Corrigan came within range of it, but
+found he could not lift it, and so ducked the savage
+blow that Corrigan aimed at him and slipped sideways,
+bringing his right into play. Several times as they
+circled he uppercut Corrigan with the right, he retreating,
+side-stepping; Corrigan following him doggedly,
+slashing venomously at him, hitting him occasionally.
+Corrigan could not hurt him, and he could not resist
+laughing at Corrigan&#8217;s face&mdash;it was so hideously
+repulsive.</p>
+<p>A man came out of the front door of Hanrahan&#8217;s
+saloon across the street from the bank building, and
+stood in the street for a moment, looking about him.
+Had Miss Benham seen the man she would have recognized
+him as the one who had previously come out
+of the saloon to greet the rider with: &#8220;Well, if it ain&#8217;t
+ol&#8217; &#8216;Brand&#8217;!&#8221; He saw the black horse standing in
+front of the bank building, but Trevison was nowhere
+in sight. The man mumbled: &#8220;I don&#8217;t want him to git
+away without me seein&#8217; him,&#8221; and crossed the street to
+the bank window and peered inside. He saw Braman
+peering through a half-open door at the rear of the
+banking room, and he heard sounds&mdash;queer, jarring
+sounds that made the glass window in front of him
+rattle and quiver.</p>
+<p>He dove around to the side of the building and
+looked in a window. He stood for a moment, watching
+with bulging eyes, half drew a pistol, thought better
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+of the notion and replaced it, and then darted back to
+the saloon from which he had emerged, croaking
+hoarsely: &#8220;Fight! fight!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Trevison had not had the agility to evade one of
+Corrigan&#8217;s heavy blows. It had caught him as he had
+tried to duck, striking fairly on the point of the jaw,
+and he was badly dazed. But he still grinned mockingly
+at his enemy as the latter followed him, tensed,
+eager, snarling. He evaded other blows that would
+have finished him&mdash;through instinct, it seemed to Corrigan;
+and though there was little strength left in
+him he kept working his right fist through Corrigan&#8217;s
+guard and into his face, pecking away at it until it
+seemed to be cut to ribbons.</p>
+<p>Voices came from somewhere in the banking room,
+voices raised in altercation. Neither of the two men,
+raging around the rear room, heard them&mdash;they had
+become insensate savages oblivious of their surroundings,
+drunken with passion, with the blood-mania gripping
+their brains.</p>
+<p>Trevison had brought the last ounce of his remaining
+strength into play and had landed a crushing blow
+on Corrigan&#8217;s chin. The big man was wabbling crazily
+about in the general direction of Trevison, swinging his
+arms wildly, Trevison evading him, snapping home
+blows that landed smackingly without doing much damage.
+They served merely to keep Corrigan in the
+semi-comatose state in which Trevison&#8217;s last hard blow
+had left him. And that last blow had sapped Trevison&#8217;s
+strength; his spirit alone had survived the drunken
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+orgy of rage and hatred. As the tumult around him
+increased&mdash;the tramp of many feet, scuffling; harsh,
+discordant voices, curses, yells of protest, threats&mdash;not
+a sound of which he heard, so intent was he with
+his work of battering his adversary, he ceased to retreat
+from Corrigan, and as the latter shuffled toward him he
+stiffened and drove his right fist into the big man&#8217;s
+face. Corrigan cursed and grunted, but lunged forward
+again. They swung at the same instant&mdash;Trevison&#8217;s
+right just grazing Corrigan&#8217;s jaw; Corrigan&#8217;s
+blow, full and sweeping, thudding against Trevison&#8217;s
+left ear. Trevison&#8217;s head rolled, his chin sagged to his
+chest, and his knees doubled like hinges. Corrigan
+smirked malevolently and drove forward again. But
+he was too eager, and his blows missed the reeling target
+that, with arms hanging wearily at his sides, still
+instinctively kept to his feet, the taunting smile, now
+becoming bitterly contemptuous, still on his face. It
+meant that though exhausted, his arm broken, he felt
+only scorn for Corrigan&#8217;s prowess as a fighter.</p>
+<p>Fighting off the weariness he lunged forward again,
+swinging the now deadened right arm at the blur Corrigan
+made in front of him. Something collided with
+him&mdash;a human form&mdash;and thinking it was Corrigan,
+clinching with him, he grasped it. The momentum of
+the object, and his own weakness, carried him back
+and down, and with the object in his grasp he fell,
+underneath, to the floor. He saw a face close to his&mdash;Braman&#8217;s&mdash;and
+remembering that the banker had
+tripped him, he began to work his right fist into the
+other&#8217;s face.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p>
+<p>He would have finished Braman. He did not know
+that the man who had greeted him as &#8220;ol&#8217; &#8216;Brand&#8217;&#8221;
+had smashed the banker in the forehead with the butt
+of a pistol when the banker had tried to bar his progress
+at the doorway; he was not aware that the force of
+the blow had hurled Braman against him, and that the
+latter, half unconscious, was not defending himself.
+He would not have cared had he known these things,
+for he was fighting blindly, doggedly, recklessly&mdash;fighting
+two men, he thought. And though he sensed
+that there could be but one end to such a struggle, he
+hammered away with ferocious malignance, and in
+the abandon of his passion in this extremity he was
+recklessly swinging his broken left arm, driving it at
+Braman, groaning each time the fist landed.</p>
+<p>He felt hands grasping him, and he fought them
+off, smashing weakly at faces that appeared around
+him as he was dragged to his feet. He heard a voice
+say: &#8220;His arm&#8217;s bruk,&#8221; and the voice seemed to clear
+the atmosphere. He paused, holding back a blow, and
+the dancing blur of faces assumed a proper aspect and
+he saw the man who had hit the banker.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hello Mullarky!&#8221; he grinned, reeling drunkenly
+in the arms of his friends. &#8220;Come to see the picnic?
+Where&#8217;s my&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He saw Corrigan leaning against a wall of the room
+and lurched toward him. A dozen hands held him
+back&mdash;the room was full of men; and as his brain
+cleared he recognized some of them. He heard threats,
+mutterings, against Corrigan, and he laughed, bidding
+the men to hold their peace, that it was a &#8220;fair fight.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+Corrigan was unmoved by the threats&mdash;as he was
+unmoved by Trevison&#8217;s words. He leaned against the
+wall, weak, his arms hanging at his sides, his face macerated,
+grinning contemptuously. And then, despite his
+objections, Trevison was dragged away by Mullarky
+and the others, leaving Braman stretched out on the
+floor, and Corrigan, his knees sagging, his chin almost
+on his chest, standing near the wall. Trevison turned
+as he was forced out of the door, and grinned tauntingly
+at his tired enemy. Corrigan spat at him.</p>
+<p>Half an hour later, his damaged arm bandaged, and
+some marks of the battle removed, Trevison was in
+the banking room. He had forbidden any of his friends
+to accompany him, but Mullarky and several others
+stood outside the door and watched him.</p>
+<p>A bandage around his head, Braman leaned on the
+counter behind the wire netting, pale, shaking. In a
+chair at the desk sat Corrigan, glowering at Trevison.
+The big man&#8217;s face had been attended to, but it was
+swollen frightfully, and his smashed lips were in a
+horrible pout. Trevison grinned at him, but it was to
+the banker that he spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want my gun, Braman,&#8221; he said, shortly.</p>
+<p>The banker took it out of a drawer and silently
+shoved it across the counter and through a little opening
+in the wire netting. The banker watched, fearingly,
+as Trevison shoved the weapon into its holster. Corrigan
+stolidly followed his movements.</p>
+<p>The gun in its holster, Trevison leaned toward the
+banker.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I always knew you weren&#8217;t straight, Braman. But
+we won&#8217;t quarrel about that now. I just want you to
+know that when this arm of mine is right again, we&#8217;ll
+try to square things between us. Broom handles will
+be barred that day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman was silent and uneasy as he watched Trevison
+reach into a pocket and withdraw a leather bill-book.
+From this he took a paper and tossed it in
+through the opening of the wire netting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cash it,&#8221; he directed. &#8220;It&#8217;s about the matter we
+were discussing when we were interrupted by our bloodthirsty
+friend, there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked at Corrigan while Braman examined the
+paper, his eyes alight with the mocking, unfearing
+gleam that had been in them during the fight. Corrigan
+scowled and Trevison grinned at him&mdash;the indomitable,
+mirthless grin of the reckless fighting man; and
+Corrigan filled his lungs slowly, watching him with
+half-closed eyes. It was as though both knew that
+a distant day would bring another clash between them.</p>
+<p>Braman fingered the paper uncertainly, and looked
+at Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose this is all regular?&#8221; he said. &#8220;You
+ought to know something about it&mdash;it&#8217;s a check from
+the railroad company for the right-of-way through Mr.
+Trevison&#8217;s land.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s eyes brightened as he examined the check.
+They filled with a hard, sinister light.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said; &#8220;it isn&#8217;t regular.&#8221; He took the
+check from Braman and deliberately tore it into small
+pieces, scattering them on the floor at his feet. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>
+smiled vindictively, settling back into his chair.
+&#8220;&#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison, eh?&#8221; he said. &#8220;Well, Mr. Trevison,
+the railroad company isn&#8217;t ready to close with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison had watched the destruction of the check
+without the quiver of an eyelash. A faint, ironic smile
+curved the corners of his mouth as Corrigan concluded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see,&#8221; he said quietly. &#8220;You were not man
+enough to beat me a little while ago&mdash;even with the
+help of Braman&#8217;s broom. You&#8217;re going to take it out
+on me through the railroad; you&#8217;re going to sneak and
+scheme. Well, you&#8217;re in good company&mdash;anything
+that you don&#8217;t know about skinning people Braman will
+tell you. But I&#8217;m letting you know this: The railroad
+company&#8217;s option on my land expired last night, and
+it won&#8217;t be renewed. If it&#8217;s fight you&#8217;re looking for,
+I&#8217;ll do my best to accommodate you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan grunted, and idly drummed with the fingers
+of one hand on the top of the desk, watching Trevison
+steadily. The latter opened his lips to speak, changed
+his mind, grinned and went out. Corrigan and Braman
+watched him as he stopped for a moment outside
+to talk with his friends, and their gaze followed him
+until he mounted Nigger and rode out of town. Then
+the banker looked at Corrigan, his brows wrinkling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know your business, Jeff,&#8221; he said; &#8220;but
+you&#8217;ve picked a tough man in Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan did not answer. He was glowering at the
+pieces of the check that lay on the floor at his feet.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_THE_LONG_ARM_OF_POWER' id='IV_THE_LONG_ARM_OF_POWER'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3>THE LONG ARM OF POWER</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Presently Corrigan lit a cigar, biting the end
+off carefully, to keep it from coming in contact
+with his bruised lips. When the cigar was going well,
+he looked at Braman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is Trevison?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Pale, still dizzy from the effects of the blow on the
+head, Braman, who was leaning heavily on the counter,
+smiled wryly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s a holy terror&mdash;you ought to know that. He&#8217;s
+a reckless, don&#8217;t-give-a-damn fool who has forgotten
+there&#8217;s such a thing as consequences. &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;
+Trevison, they call him. And he lives up to what that
+means. The folks in this section of the country swear
+by him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan made a gesture of impatience. &#8220;I mean&mdash;what
+does he do? Of course I know he owns some
+land here. But how much land does he own?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You saw the figure on the check, didn&#8217;t you? He
+owns five thousand acres.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long has he been here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got me. More than ten years, I guess,
+from what I can gather.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What was he before he came here?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I couldn&#8217;t even surmise that&mdash;he don&#8217;t talk about
+his past. From the way he waded into you, I should
+judge he was a prize fighter before becoming a cow-puncher.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan glared at the banker. &#8220;Yes; it&#8217;s damned
+funny,&#8221; he said. &#8220;How did he get his land?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Proved on a quarter-section. Bought the rest of
+it&mdash;and bought it mighty cheap.&#8221; Braman&#8217;s eyes
+brightened. &#8220;Figure on attacking <i>his</i> title?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan grunted. &#8220;I notice he asked you for cash.
+You&#8217;re not his banker, evidently.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He banks in Las Vegas, I guess.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What about his cattle?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He shipped three thousand head last season.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How big is his outfit?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s got about twenty men. They&#8217;re all hard cases&mdash;like
+him, and they&#8217;d shoot themselves for him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan got up and walked to the window, from
+where he looked out at Manti. The town looked like
+an army camp. Lumber, merchandise, supplies of
+every description, littered the street in mounds and scattered
+heaps, awaiting the erection of tent-house and
+building. But there was none of that activity that
+might have been expected from the quantity of material
+on hand; it seemed that the owners were waiting,
+delaying in anticipation of some force that would give
+them encouragement. They were reluctant to risk their
+money in erecting buildings on the strength of mere
+rumor. But they had come, hoping.</p>
+<p>Corrigan grinned at Braman. &#8220;They&#8217;re afraid to
+take a chance,&#8221; he said, meaning Manti&#8217;s citizens.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t blame them. I&#8217;ve spread the stuff around&mdash;as
+you told me. That&#8217;s all they&#8217;ve heard. They&#8217;re
+here on a forlorn hope. The boom they are looking
+for, seems, from present conditions, to be lurking somewhere
+in the future, shadowed by an indefiniteness that
+to them is vaguely connected with somebody&#8217;s promise
+of a dam, agricultural activity to follow, and factories.
+They haven&#8217;t been able to trace the rumors, but they&#8217;re
+here, and they&#8217;ll make things hum if they get a chance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure,&#8221; grinned Corrigan. &#8220;A boom town is always
+a graft for first arrivals. That is, boom towns <i>have</i>
+been. But Manti&mdash;&#8221; He paused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, different,&#8221; chuckled the banker. &#8220;It must
+have cost a wad to shove that water grant through.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Benham kicked on the price&mdash;it was enough.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That maximum rate clause is a pippin. You can
+soak them the limit right from the jump.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And scare them out,&#8221; scoffed Corrigan. &#8220;That
+isn&#8217;t the game. Get them here, first. Then&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The banker licked his lips. &#8220;How does old Benham
+take it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Benham is enthusiastic because everything will
+be done in a perfectly legitimate way&mdash;he thinks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the courts?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Judge Lindman, of the District Court now in Dry
+Bottom, is going to establish himself here. Benham
+pulled that string.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good!&#8221; said Braman. &#8220;When is Lindman coming?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s smile was crooked; it told eloquently of
+conscious power over the man he had named.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;ll come whenever I give the word. Benham&#8217;s
+got something on him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You always were a clever son-of-a-gun!&#8221; laughed
+the banker, admiringly.</p>
+<p>Ignoring the compliment, Corrigan walked into the
+rear room, where he gazed frowningly at his reflection
+in a small glass affixed to the wall. Re-entering
+the banking room he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m in no condition to face Miss Benham. Go
+down to the car and tell her that I shall be very busy
+here all day, and that I won&#8217;t be able to see her until
+late tonight.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Miss Benham&#8217;s name was on the tip of the banker&#8217;s
+tongue, but, glancing at Corrigan&#8217;s face, he decided that
+it was no time for that particular brand of levity. He
+grabbed his hat and stepped out of the front door.</p>
+<p>Left alone, Corrigan paced slowly back and forth in
+the room, his brows furrowed thoughtfully. Trevison
+had become an important figure in his mind. Corrigan
+had not hinted to Braman, to Trevison, or to Miss
+Benham, of the actual situation&mdash;nor would he. But
+during his first visit to town that morning he had stood
+in one of the front windows of a saloon across the
+street. He had not been getting acquainted, as he had
+told Miss Benham, for the saloon had been the first
+place that he had entered, and after getting a drink
+at the bar he had sauntered to the window. From there
+he had seen &#8220;Brand&#8221; Trevison ride into town, and
+because Trevison made an impressive figure he had
+watched him, instinctively aware that in the rider of the
+black horse was a quality of manhood that one meets
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+rarely. Trevison&#8217;s appearance had caused him a throb
+of disquieting envy.</p>
+<p>He had noticed Trevison&#8217;s start upon getting his
+first glimpse of the private car on the siding. He had
+followed Trevison&#8217;s movements carefully, and with
+increased disquiet. For, instead of dismounting and
+going into a saloon or a store, Trevison had urged
+the black on, past the private car, which he had examined
+leisurely and intently. The clear morning air
+made objects at a distance very distinct, and as Trevison
+had ridden past the car, Corrigan had seen a flutter at
+one of the windows; had caught a fleeting glimpse of
+Rosalind Benham&#8217;s face. He had seen Trevison ride
+away, to return for a second view of the car a few
+minutes later. At breakfast, Corrigan had not failed
+to note Miss Benham&#8217;s lingering glances at the black
+horse, and again, in the bank, with her standing at
+the door, he had noticed her interest in the black horse
+and its rider. His quickly-aroused jealousy and hatred
+had driven him to the folly of impulsive action, a
+method which, until now, he had carefully evaded.
+Yes, he had found &#8220;Brand&#8221; Trevison a worthy antagonist&mdash;Braman
+had him appraised correctly.</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s smile was bitter as he again walked into
+the rear room and surveyed his reflection in the glass.
+Disgusted, he turned to one of the windows and looked
+out. From where he stood he could see straight down
+the railroad tracks to the cut, down the wall of which,
+some hours before, Trevison had ridden the black
+horse. The dinky engine, with its train of flat-cars, was
+steaming toward him. As he watched, engine and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
+cars struck the switch and ran onto the siding, where
+they came to a stop. Corrigan frowned and looked at
+his watch. It lacked fully three hours to quitting time,
+and the cars were empty, save for the laborers draped
+on them, their tools piled in heaps. While Corrigan
+watched, the laborers descended from the cars and
+swarmed toward their quarters&mdash;a row of tent-houses
+near the siding. A big man&mdash;Corrigan knew him
+later as Patrick Carson&mdash;swung down from the engine-cab
+and lumbered toward the little frame station house,
+in a window of which the telegrapher could be seen,
+idly scanning a week-old newspaper. Carson spoke
+shortly to the telegrapher, at which the latter motioned
+toward the bank building and the private car. Then
+Carson came toward the bank building. An instant
+later, Carson came in the front door and met Corrigan
+at the wire netting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hullo,&#8221; said the Irishman, without preliminaries;
+&#8220;the agent was tellin&#8217; me I&#8217;d find a mon named Corrigan
+here. You&#8217;re in charge, eh?&#8221; he added at Corrigan&#8217;s
+affirmative. &#8220;Well, bedad, somebody&#8217;s got to
+be in charge from now on. The Willie-boy engineer
+from who I&#8217;ve been takin&#8217; me orders has sneaked away
+to Dry Bottom for a couple av days, shovin&#8217; the raysponsibility
+on me&mdash;an&#8217; I ain&#8217;t feelin&#8217; up to it. I&#8217;m a
+daisy construction boss, if I do say it meself, but I ain&#8217;t
+enough of a fightin&#8217; mon to buck the business end av a
+six-shooter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s up?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mebbe you&#8217;d know&mdash;he said you&#8217;d be sure to.
+I&#8217;ve been parleyin&#8217; wid a fello&#8217; named &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+Trevison, an&#8217; I&#8217;m that soaked wid perspiration that me
+boots is full av it, after me thryin&#8217; to urge him to be
+dacently careful wid his gun!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What happened?&#8221; asked Corrigan, darkly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This mon Trevison came down through the cut this
+mornin&#8217;, goin&#8217; to town. He was pleasant as a mon
+who&#8217;s had a raise in wages, an&#8217; he was joshin&#8217; wid us.
+A while ago he comes back from town, an&#8217; he&#8217;s that
+cold an&#8217; polite that he&#8217;d freeze ye while he&#8217;s takin&#8217;
+his hat off to ye. One av his arms is busted, an&#8217; he&#8217;s
+got a welt or two on his face. But outside av that he&#8217;s
+all right. He rides down into the cut where we&#8217;re all
+workin&#8217; fit to kill ourselves. He halts his big black
+horse about forty or fifty feet away from the ol&#8217; rattle-box
+that runs the steam shovel, an&#8217; he grins like a tiger
+at me an&#8217; says:</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Carson, I&#8217;m wantin&#8217; you to pull your min off. I
+can&#8217;t permit anny railroad min on the Diamond K
+property. You&#8217;re a friend av mine, an&#8217; all that, but
+you&#8217;ll have to pull your freight. You&#8217;ve got tin minutes.&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;I&#8217;ve got me orders to do this work,&#8217; I says&mdash;begging
+his pardon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Here&#8217;s your orders to stop doin&#8217; it!&#8217; he comes
+back. An&#8217; I was inspectin&#8217; the muzzle av his six-shooter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Ye wudn&#8217;t shoot a mon for doin&#8217; his duthy?&#8217; I
+says.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Thry me,&#8217; he says. &#8216;You&#8217;re trespassers. The
+railroad company didn&#8217;t come through wid the coin
+for the right-of-way. Your mon, Corrigan, has got an
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+idee that he&#8217;s goin&#8217; to bluff me. I&#8217;m callin&#8217; his bluff.
+You&#8217;ve got tin minutes to get out av here. At the
+end av that time I begin to shoot. I&#8217;ve got six cattridges
+in the gun, an&#8217; fifty more in the belt around
+me middle. An&#8217; I seldom miss whin I shoot. It&#8217;s up
+to you whether I start a cemetery here or not,&#8217; he says,
+cold an&#8217; ca&#8217;mlike.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The ginneys knowed somethin&#8217; was up, an&#8217; they
+crowded around. I thought Trevison was thryin&#8217; to
+run a bluff on <i>me</i>, an&#8217; I give orders for the ginneys to
+go back to their work.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison didn&#8217;t say another word, but at the end
+av the tin minutes he grins that tiger grin av his an&#8217;
+busts the safety valve on the rattle-box wid a shot
+from his pistol. He smashes the water-gauge wid
+another, an&#8217; jammed one shot in the ol&#8217; rattle-box&#8217;s
+entrails, an&#8217; she starts to blow off steam&mdash;&mdash;shriekin&#8217;
+like a soul in hell. The ginneys throwed down their
+tools an&#8217; started to climb up the walls of the cut like
+a gang av monkeys, Trevison watchin&#8217; thim with a
+grin as cold as a barrow ful ov icicles. Murph&#8217;, the
+engineer av the dinky, an&#8217; his fireman, ducks for the
+engine-cab, l&#8217;avin&#8217; me standin&#8217; there to face the music.
+Trevison yells at the engineer av the rattle-box, an&#8217;
+he disappears like a rat into a hole. Thin Trevison
+swings his gun on me, an&#8217; I c&#8217;u&#8217;d feel me knees knockin&#8217;
+together. &#8216;Carson,&#8217; he says, &#8216;I hate like blazes to do
+it, but you&#8217;re the boss here, an&#8217; these min will do what
+you tell thim to do. Tell thim to get to hell out of
+here an&#8217; not come back, or I&#8217;ll down you, sure as me
+name&#8217;s Trevison!&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m old enough to know from lookin&#8217; at a mon
+whether he manes business or not, an&#8217; Trevison wasn&#8217;t
+foolin&#8217;. So I got the bhoys away, an&#8217; here we are. If
+you&#8217;re in charge, it&#8217;s up to you to smooth things out.
+Though from the looks av your mug &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;s&#8217;
+been maulin&#8217; you some, too!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s answer was a cold glare. &#8220;You quit
+without a fight, eh?&#8221; he taunted; &#8220;you let one man
+bluff half a hundred of you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson&#8217;s eyes brightened. &#8220;My recollection is that
+&#8216;Firebrand&#8217; is still holdin&#8217; the forrt. Whin I got me
+last look at him he was sittin&#8217; on the top av the cut,
+like he was intendin&#8217; to stay there indefinite. If ye
+think he&#8217;s bluffin&#8217;, mebbe it&#8217;d be quite an idee for you
+to go out there yourself, an&#8217; call it. I&#8217;d be willin&#8217; to
+give ye me moral support.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll call him when I get ready.&#8221; Corrigan went to
+the desk and sat in the chair, ignoring Carson, who
+watched him narrowly. Presently he turned and spoke
+to the man:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Put your men at work trueing up the roadbed on
+the next section back, until further orders.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; let &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; hold the forrt?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do as you&#8217;re told!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson went out to his men. Near the station platform
+he turned and looked back at the bank building,
+grinning. &#8220;There&#8217;s two bulldogs comin&#8217; to grips in
+this deal or I&#8217;m a domn poor prophet!&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>When Braman returned from his errand he found
+Corrigan staring out of the window. The banker
+announced that Miss Benham had received Corrigan&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+message with considerable equanimity, and was rewarded
+for his levity with a frown.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s Carson and his gang doing in town?&#8221; he
+queried.</p>
+<p>Corrigan told him, briefly. The banker whistled
+in astonishment, and his face grew long. &#8220;I told you
+he is a tough one!&#8221; he reminded.</p>
+<p>Corrigan got to his feet. &#8220;Yes&mdash;he&#8217;s a tough
+one,&#8221; he admitted. &#8220;I&#8217;m forced to alter my plans a
+little&mdash;that&#8217;s all. But I&#8217;ll get him. Hunt up something
+to eat,&#8221; he directed; &#8220;I&#8217;m hungry. I&#8217;m going
+to the station for a few minutes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He went out, and the banker watched him until he
+vanished around the corner of a building. Then Braman
+shook his head. &#8220;Jeff&#8217;s resourceful,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;But Trevison&mdash;&#8221; His face grew solemn. &#8220;What
+a damned fool I was to trip him with that broom!&#8221;
+He drew a pistol from a pocket and examined it
+intently, then returned it to the pocket and sat, staring
+with unseeing eyes beyond the station at the two
+lines of steel that ran out upon the plains and stopped
+in the deep cut on the crest of which he could see a man
+on a black horse.</p>
+<p>Down at the station Corrigan was leaning on a
+rough wooden counter, writing on a yellow paper pad.
+When he had finished he shoved the paper over to
+the telegrapher, who had been waiting:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>J. Chalfant Benham</span>, B&mdash; Building, New York.</p>
+<p>Unexpected opposition developed. Trevison. Give Lindman
+removal order immediately. Communicate with me at
+Dry Bottom tomorrow morning. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Corrigan</span>.</p>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></div>
+<p>Corrigan watched the operator send the message
+and then he returned to the bank building, where he
+found Braman setting out a meager lunch in the rear
+room. The two men talked as they ate, mostly about
+Trevison, and the banker&#8217;s face did not lose its worried
+expression. Later they smoked and talked and watched
+while the afternoon sun grew mellow; while the somber
+twilight descended over the world and darkness
+came and obliterated the hill on which sat the rider of
+the black horse.</p>
+<p>Shortly after dark Corrigan sent the banker on
+another errand, this time to a boarding-house at the
+edge of town. Braman returned shortly, announcing:
+&#8220;He&#8217;ll be ready.&#8221; Then, just before midnight Corrigan
+climbed into the cab of the engine which had brought
+the private car, and which was waiting, steam up, several
+hundred feet down the track from the car.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right!&#8221; said Corrigan briskly, to the engineer,
+as he climbed in and a flare from the fire-box suffused
+his face; &#8220;pull out. But don&#8217;t make any fuss
+about it&mdash;I don&#8217;t want those people in the car to
+know.&#8221; And shortly afterwards the locomotive glided
+silently away into the darkness toward that town in
+which a judge of the United States Court had, a few
+hours before, received orders which had caused him
+to remark, bitterly: &#8220;So does the past shape the
+future.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='V_A_TELEGRAM_AND_A_GIRL' id='V_A_TELEGRAM_AND_A_GIRL'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3>A TELEGRAM AND A GIRL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Banker Braman went to bed on the cot in the
+back room shortly after Corrigan departed from
+Manti. He stretched himself out with a sigh,
+oppressed with the conviction that he had done a bad
+day&#8217;s work in antagonizing Trevison. The Diamond
+K owner would repay him, he knew. But he knew, too,
+that he need have no fear that Trevison would sneak
+about it. Therefore he did not expect to feel Trevison
+at his throat during the night. That was some satisfaction.</p>
+<p>He dropped to sleep, thinking of Trevison. He
+awoke about dawn to a loud hammering on the rear
+door, and he scrambled out of bed and opened the
+door upon the telegraph agent. That gentleman gazed
+at him with grim reproof.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Holy Moses!&#8221; he said; &#8220;you&#8217;re a hell of a tight
+sleeper! I&#8217;ve been pounding on this door for an age!&#8221;
+He shoved a sheet of paper under Braman&#8217;s nose.
+&#8220;Here&#8217;s a telegram for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman took the telegram, scanning it, while the
+agent talked on, ramblingly. A sickly smile came over
+Braman&#8217;s face when he finished reading, and then he
+listened to the agent:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I got a wire a little after midnight, asking me
+if that man, Corrigan, was still in Manti. The engineer
+told me he was taking Corrigan back to Dry
+Bottom at midnight, and so I knew he wasn&#8217;t here, and
+I clicked back &#8216;No.&#8217; It was from J. C. He must have
+connected with Corrigan at Dry Bottom. That guy
+Trevison must have old Benham&#8217;s goat, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman re-read the telegram; it was directed to him:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Send my daughter to Trevison with cash in amount of check
+destroyed by Corrigan yesterday. Instruct her to say mistake
+made. No offense intended. Hustle. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>J. C. Benham.</span></p>
+</div>
+<p>Braman slipped his clothes on and ran down the
+track to the private car. He had known J. C. Benham
+several years and was aware that when he issued an
+order he wanted it obeyed, literally. The negro autocrat
+of the private car met him at the platform and
+grinned amply at the banker&#8217;s request.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Benham done tol&#8217; me she am not to be disturbed
+till eight o&#8217;clock,&#8221; he objected. But the telegram
+in Braman&#8217;s hands had instant effect upon the
+black custodian of the car, and shortly afterward Miss
+Benham was looking at the banker and his telegram in
+sleepy-eyed astonishment, the door of her compartment
+open only far enough to permit her to stick her
+head out.</p>
+<p>Braman was forced to do much explaining, and concluded
+by reading the telegram to her. She drew everything
+out of him except the story of the fight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she said in the end, &#8220;I suppose I shall have
+to go. So his name is &#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison. And he won&#8217;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
+permit the men to work. Why did Mr. Corrigan
+destroy the check?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman evaded, but the girl thought she knew.
+Corrigan had yielded to an impulse of obstinacy provoked
+by Trevison&#8217;s assault on him. It was not good
+business&mdash;it was almost childish; but it was human
+to feel that way. She felt a slight disappointment in
+Corrigan, though; the action did not quite accord with
+her previous estimate of him. She did not know what
+to think of Trevison. But of course any man who
+would deliberately and brutally ride another man down,
+would naturally not hesitate to adopt other lawless
+means of defending himself.</p>
+<p>She told Braman to have the money ready for her
+in an hour, and at the end of that time with her morocco
+handbag bulging, she emerged from the front door of
+the bank and climbed the steps of the private car,
+which had been pulled down to a point in front of
+the station by the dinky engine, with Murphy presiding
+at the throttle.</p>
+<p>Carson was standing on the platform when Miss
+Benham climbed to it, and he grinned and greeted her
+with:</p>
+<p>&#8220;If ye have no objections, ma&#8217;am, I&#8217;ll be ridin&#8217; down
+to the cut with ye. Me name&#8217;s Patrick Carson, ma&#8217;am.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have no objection whatever,&#8221; said the lady, graciously.
+&#8220;I presume you are connected with the railroad?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; wid the ginneys that&#8217;s buildin&#8217; it, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; he
+supplemented. &#8220;I&#8217;m the construction boss av this section,
+an&#8217; I&#8217;m the mon that had the unhappy experience
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+av lookin&#8217; into the business end av &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;s&#8217; six-shooter
+yisterday.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Firebrand&#8217;s&#8217;?&#8221; she said, with a puzzled look at
+him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thot mon, Trevison, ma&#8217;am; that&#8217;s what they call
+him. An&#8217; he fits it bedad&mdash;beggin&#8217; your pardon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she said; &#8220;then you know him.&#8221; And she
+felt a sudden interest in Carson.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Enough to be certain he ain&#8217;t to be monkeyed with,
+ma&#8217;am.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She seemed to ignore this. &#8220;Please tell the engineer
+to go ahead,&#8221; she told him. &#8220;And then come into the
+car&mdash;I want to talk with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A little later, with the car clicking slowly over the
+rail-joints toward the cut, Carson diffidently followed
+the negro attendant into a luxurious compartment, in
+which, seated in a big leather-covered chair, was Miss
+Benham. She motioned Carson to another chair, and
+in the conversation that followed Miss Benham received
+a comprehensive estimate of Trevison from Carson&#8217;s
+viewpoint. It seemed unsatisfying to her&mdash;Carson&#8217;s
+commendation did not appear to coincide with Trevison&#8217;s
+performances.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you heard what happened in Manti yesterday?&#8221;
+she questioned. &#8220;This man, Trevison, jumped
+his horse against Mr. Corrigan and knocked him
+down.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard av it,&#8221; grinned Carson. &#8220;But I didn&#8217;t see
+it. Nor did I see the daisy scrap that tuk place right
+after.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fight?&#8221; she exclaimed.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></p>
+<p>Carson reddened. &#8220;Sure, ye haven&#8217;t heard av it, an&#8217;
+I&#8217;m blabbin&#8217; like a kid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell me about it.&#8221; Her eyes were aglow with
+interest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s devilish little to tell&mdash;beggin&#8217; your pardon,
+ma&#8217;am. But thim that was in at the finish is
+waggin&#8217; their tongues about it bein&#8217; a dandy shindy.
+Judgin&#8217; from the talk, nobuddy got licked&mdash;it was a
+fair dhraw. But I sh&#8217;ud judge, lookin&#8217; at Corrigan&#8217;s
+face, that it was a darlin&#8217; av a scrap.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She was silent, gazing contemplatively out of the
+car window. Corrigan had returned, after escorting
+her to the car, to engage in a fight with Trevison. That
+was what had occupied him; that was why he had gone
+away without seeing her. Well, Trevison had given
+him plenty of provocation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison&#8217;s horse knockin&#8217; Corrigan down was what
+started it, they&#8217;ve been tellin&#8217; me,&#8221; said Carson. &#8220;But
+thim that know Trevison&#8217;s black knows that Trevison
+wasn&#8217;t to blame.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not to blame?&#8221; she asked; &#8220;why not?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For the simple rayson thot in a case like thot the
+mon has no control over the baste, ma&#8217;am. &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;
+told me only yisterday mornin&#8217; thot there was no
+holdin&#8217; the black whin somebuddy tried to shoot wid
+him on his back.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl remembered how Trevison had tried to
+speak to her immediately after the upsetting of Corrigan,
+and she knew now, that he had wanted to explain
+his action. Reviewing the incident in the light of Carson&#8217;s
+explanation, she felt that Corrigan was quite as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
+much at fault as Trevison. Somehow, that knowledge
+was vaguely satisfying.</p>
+<p>She did not succeed in questioning Carson further
+about Trevison, though there were many points over
+which she felt a disturbing curiosity, for Agatha came
+in presently, and after nodding stiffly to Carson, seated
+herself and gazed aloofly out of a window.</p>
+<p>Carson, ill at ease in Agatha&#8217;s presence, soon
+invented an excuse to go out upon the platform, leaving
+Rosalind to explain his presence in the car.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What on earth could you have to say to a section
+boss&mdash;or he to you?&#8221; demanded Agatha. &#8220;You are
+becoming very&mdash;er&mdash;indiscreet, Rosalind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl smiled. It was a smile that would have
+betrayed the girl had Agatha possessed the physiognomist&#8217;s
+faculty of analyzation, for in it was much
+relief and renewed faith. For the rider of the black
+horse was not the brutal creature she had thought him.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>When the private car came to a stop, Rosalind looked
+out of the window to see the steep wall of the cut
+towering above her. Aunt Agatha still sat near, and
+when Rosalind got up Agatha rose also, registering
+an objection:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think your father might have arranged to have
+some <i>man</i> meet this outlaw. It is not, in my opinion,
+a proper errand for a girl. But if you are determined
+to go, I presume I shall have to follow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It won&#8217;t be necessary,&#8221; said Rosalind. But Agatha
+set her lips tightly. And when the girl reached the platform
+Agatha was close behind her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span></p>
+<p>But both halted on the platform as they were about
+to descend the steps. They heard Carson&#8217;s voice, loud
+and argumentative:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s a lady aboored, I tell ye! If ye shoot,
+you&#8217;re a lot of damned rapscallions, an&#8217; I&#8217;ll come up
+there an&#8217; bate the head off ye!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stow your gab an&#8217; produce the lady!&#8221; answered a
+voice. It came from above, and Rosalind stepped down
+to the floor of the cut and looked upward. On the
+crest of the southern wall were a dozen men&mdash;cowboys&mdash;armed
+with rifles, peering down at the car.
+They shifted their gaze to her when she stepped into
+view, and one of them laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Correct, boys,&#8221; he said; &#8220;it&#8217;s a lady.&#8221; There was
+a short silence; Rosalind saw the men gather close&mdash;they
+were talking, but she could not hear their voices.
+Then the man who had spoken first stepped to the edge
+of the cut and called: &#8220;What do you want?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl answered: &#8220;I want to speak with Mr.
+Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sorry, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; came back the voice; &#8220;but Trevison
+ain&#8217;t here&mdash;he&#8217;s at the Diamond K.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind reached a decision quickly. &#8220;Aunty,&#8221; she
+said; &#8220;I am going to the Diamond K.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I forbid you!&#8221; said Agatha sternly. &#8220;I would
+not trust you an instant with those outlaws!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense,&#8221; smiled Rosalind. &#8220;I am coming up,&#8221;
+she called to the man on the crest; &#8220;do you mind?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man laughed. &#8220;I reckon not, ma&#8217;am.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind smiled at Carson, who was watching her
+admiringly, and to the smile he answered, pointing eastward
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span>
+to where the slope of the hill melted into the
+plains: &#8220;You&#8217;ll have to go thot way, ma&#8217;am.&#8221; He
+laughed. &#8220;You&#8217;re perfectly safe wid thim min, ma&#8217;am&mdash;they&#8217;re
+Trevison&#8217;s&mdash;an&#8217; Trevison wud shoot the
+last mon av thim if they&#8217;d harm a hair av your pretty
+head. Go along, ma&#8217;am, an&#8217; God bless ye! Ye&#8217;ll be
+savin&#8217; a heap av throuble for me an&#8217; me ginneys, an&#8217;
+the railroad company.&#8221; He looked with bland derision
+at Agatha who gave him a glance of scornful reproof
+as she followed after her charge.</p>
+<p>The girl was panting when she reached the crest of
+the cut. Agatha was a little white, possibly more from
+apprehension than from indignation, though that emotion
+had its influence; but their reception could not
+have been more formal had it taken place in an eastern
+drawing-room. For every hat was off, and each man
+was trying his best to conceal his interest. And when
+men have not seen a woman for a long time, the appearance
+of a pretty one makes it rather hard to maintain
+polite poise. But they succeeded, which spoke well
+for their manliness. If they exchanged surreptitious
+winks over the appearance of Agatha, they are to be
+excused, for that lady&#8217;s demeanor was one of frigid
+haughtiness, which is never quite impressive to those
+who live close to nature.</p>
+<p>In an exchange of words, brief and pointed, Rosalind
+learned that it was three miles to the Diamond K
+ranchhouse, and that Trevison had given orders not
+to be disturbed unless the railroad company attempted
+to continue work at the cut. Could she borrow one of
+their horses, and a guide?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You bet!&#8221; emphatically returned the spokesman
+who, she learned later, was Trevison&#8217;s foreman. She
+should have the gentlest &#8220;cayuse&#8221; in the &#8220;bunch,&#8221;
+and the foreman would do the guiding, himself. At
+which word Agatha, noting the foreman&#8217;s enthusiasm,
+glared coldly at him.</p>
+<p>But here Agatha was balked by the insurmountable
+wall of convention. She had ridden horses, to be sure,
+in her younger days; but when the foreman, at Rosalind&#8217;s
+request, offered her a pony, she sniffed scornfully
+and marched down the slope toward the private
+car, saying that if Rosalind was <i>determined</i> to persist
+she might persist without <i>her</i> assistance. For there
+was no side-saddle in the riding equipment of the outfit.
+And Rosalind, quite aware of the prudishness
+exhibited by her chaperon, and not unmindful of the
+mirth that the men were trying their best to keep concealed,
+rode on with the foreman, with something
+resembling thankfulness for the temporary freedom
+tugging at her heart.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Trevison had camped all night on the crest of the
+cut. It was only at dawn that Barkwell, the foreman
+who had escorted Rosalind, had appeared at the cut
+on his way to town, and discovered him, and then the
+foreman&#8217;s plans were changed and he was dispatched
+to the Diamond K for reinforcements. Trevison had
+ridden back to the Diamond K to care for his arm,
+which had pained him frightfully during the night, and
+at ten o&#8217;clock in the morning he was stretched out,
+fully dressed and wide awake on the bed in his room
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+in the ranchhouse, frowningly reviewing the events of
+the day before.</p>
+<p>He was in no good humor, and when he heard
+Barkwell hallooing from the yard near the house, he
+got up and looked out of a window, a scowl on his
+face.</p>
+<p>Rosalind was not in the best of spirits, herself, for
+during the ride to the ranchhouse she had been sending
+subtly-questioning shafts at the foreman&mdash;questions
+that mostly concerned Trevison&mdash;and they had
+all fell, blunted and impotent, from the armor of Barkwell&#8217;s
+reticence. But a glance at Trevison&#8217;s face, ludicrous
+in its expression of stunned amazement, brought
+a broad smile to her own. She saw his lips form her
+name, and then she waited demurely until she saw
+him coming out of the ranchhouse door toward her.</p>
+<p>He had quite recovered from his surprise, she noted;
+his manner was that of the day before, when she had
+seen him riding the black horse. When she saw him
+coming lightly toward her, she at first had eyes for
+nothing but his perfect figure, feeling the strength that
+his close-fitting clothing revealed so unmistakably, and
+an unaccountable blush glowed in her cheeks. And
+then she observed that his left arm was in a sling, and
+a flash of wondering concern swept over her&mdash;also
+unaccountable. And then he was at her stirrup, smiling
+up at her broadly and cordially.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Welcome to the Diamond K, Miss Benham,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;Won&#8217;t you get off your horse?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; I came on business and must return
+immediately. There has been a misunderstanding, my
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+father says. He wired me, directing me to apologize,
+for him, for Mr. Corrigan&#8217;s actions of yesterday. Perhaps
+Mr. Corrigan over-stepped his authority&mdash;I have
+no means of knowing.&#8221; She passed the morocco bag
+over to him, and he took it, looking at it in some perplexity.
+&#8220;You will find cash in there to the amount
+named by the check that Mr. Corrigan destroyed. I
+hope,&#8221; she added, smiling at him, &#8220;that there will be
+no more trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The payment of this money for the right-of-way
+removes the provocation for trouble,&#8221; he laughed.
+&#8220;Barkwell,&#8221; he directed, turning to the foreman; &#8220;you
+may go back to the outfit.&#8221; He looked after the foreman
+as the latter rode away, turning presently to
+Rosalind. &#8220;If you will wait a few minutes, until I
+stow this money in a safe place, I&#8217;ll ride back to the
+cut with you and pull the boys off.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She had wondered much over the rifles in the hands
+of his men at the cut. &#8220;Would your men have used
+their guns?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>He had turned to go to the house, and he wheeled
+quickly, astonished. &#8220;Certainly!&#8221; he said; &#8220;why
+not?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That would be lawlessness, would it not?&#8221; It
+made her shiver slightly to hear him so frankly confess
+to murderous designs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was not my quarrel,&#8221; he said, looking at her
+narrowly, his brows contracted. &#8220;Law is all right
+where everybody accepts it as a governor to their
+actions. I accept it when it deals fairly with me&mdash;when
+it&#8217;s just. Certain rights are mine, and I&#8217;ll fight
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+for them. This situation was brought on by Corrigan&#8217;s
+obstinacy. We had a fight, and it peeved him because
+I wouldn&#8217;t permit him to hammer my head off. He
+destroyed the check, and as the company&#8217;s option
+expired yesterday it was unlawful for the company to
+trespass on my land.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she smiled, affected by his vehemence; &#8220;we
+shall have peace now, presumably. And&mdash;&#8221; she reddened
+again &#8220;&mdash;I want to ask your pardon on my own
+account, for speaking to you as I did yesterday. I
+thought you brutal&mdash;the way you rode your horse
+over Mr. Corrigan. Mr. Carson assured me that the
+horse was to blame.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am indebted to Carson,&#8221; he laughed, bowing.
+Rosalind watched him go into the house, and then
+turned and inspected her surroundings. The house was
+big, roomy, with a massive hip roof. A paved gallery
+stretched the entire length of the front&mdash;she would
+have liked to rest for a few minutes in the heavy rocker
+that stood in its cool shadows. No woman lived here,
+she was certain, because there was a lack of evidence
+of woman&#8217;s handiwork&mdash;no filmy curtains at the windows&mdash;merely
+shades; no cushion was on the chair&mdash;which,
+by the way, looked lonesome&mdash;but perhaps that
+was merely her imagination. Much dust had gathered
+on the gallery floor and on the sash of the windows&mdash;a
+woman would have had things looking differently.
+And so she divined that Trevison was not married.
+It surprised her to discover that that thought had been
+in her mind, and she turned to continue her inspection,
+filled with wonder that it had been there.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></p>
+<p>She got an impression of breadth and spaciousness
+out of her survey of the buildings and the surrounding
+country. The buildings were in good condition; everything
+looked substantial and homelike and her contemplation
+of it aroused in her a yearning for a house
+and land in this section of the country, it was so peaceful
+and dignified in comparison with the life she knew.</p>
+<p>She watched Trevison when he emerged from the
+house, and smiled when he returned the empty handbag.
+He went to a small building near a fenced enclosure&mdash;the
+corral, she learned afterward&mdash;and came
+out carrying a saddle, which he hung on the fence
+while he captured the black horse, which she had
+already observed. The animal evaded capture, playfully,
+but in the end it trotted mincingly to Trevison
+and permitted him to throw the bridle on. Then,
+shortly afterward he mounted the black and together
+they rode back toward the cut.</p>
+<p>As they rode the girl&#8217;s curiosity for the man who
+rode beside her grew acute. She was aware&mdash;she
+had been aware all along&mdash;that he was far different
+from the other men of Manti&mdash;there was about him
+an atmosphere of refinement and quiet confidence that
+mingled admirably with his magnificent physical force,
+tempering it, suggesting reserve power, hinting of excellent
+mental capacity. She determined to know something
+about him. And so she began subtly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;In a section of country so large as this it seems
+that our American measure of length&mdash;a mile&mdash;should
+be stretched to something that would more adequately
+express size. Don&#8217;t you think so?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p>
+<p>He looked quickly at her. &#8220;That is an odd
+thought,&#8221; he laughed, &#8220;but it inevitably attacks the
+person who views the yawning distances here for the
+first time. Why not use the English mile if the American
+doesn&#8217;t satisfy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is a measure that exceeds that, isn&#8217;t there?
+Wasn&#8217;t there a Persian measure somewhat longer,
+fathered by Herodotus or another of the ancients? I
+am sure there was&mdash;or is&mdash;but I have forgotten?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he said, &#8220;&mdash;a parasang.&#8221; He looked narrowly
+at her and saw her eyes brighten.</p>
+<p>She had made progress; she felt much satisfaction.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are not a native,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you know?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cowboys do not commonly measure their distances
+with parasangs,&#8221; she laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nor do ordinary women try to shake off ennui by
+coming West in private cars,&#8221; he drawled.</p>
+<p>She started and looking quickly at him. &#8220;How did
+you know that was what happened to me?&#8221; she demanded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because you&#8217;re too spirited and vigorous to spend
+your life dawdling in society. You yearn for action,
+for the broad, free life of the open. You&#8217;re in love
+with this country right now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes,&#8221; she said, astonished; &#8220;but how do you
+know?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You might have sent a man here in your place&mdash;Braman,
+for instance; he could be trusted. You came
+yourself, eager for adventure&mdash;you came on a borrowed
+horse. When you were looking at the country
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+from the horse in front of my house, I saw you
+sigh.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she said, with flushed face and glowing
+eyes; &#8220;I <i>have</i> decided to live out here&mdash;for a time,
+at least. So you were watching me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just a glance,&#8221; he defended, grinning; &#8220;I couldn&#8217;t
+help it. Please forgive me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I&#8217;ll have to,&#8221; she laughed, delighted,
+reveling in this freedom of speech, in his directness.
+His manner touched a spark somewhere in her, she
+felt strangely elated, exhilarated. When she reflected
+that this was only their second meeting and that she
+had not been conventionally introduced to him, she
+was amazed. Had a stranger of her set talked to her
+so familiarly she would have resented it. Out here it
+seemed to be perfectly natural.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you know I borrowed a horse to come
+here?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s easy,&#8221; he grinned; &#8220;there&#8217;s the Diamond K
+brand on his hip.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They rode on a little distance in silence, and then
+she remembered that she was still curious about him.
+His frankness had affected her; she did not think it
+impertinent to betray curiosity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long have you lived out here?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;About ten years.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You weren&#8217;t born here, of course&mdash;you have
+admitted that. Then where did you come from?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is a large country,&#8221; he returned, unsmilingly.</p>
+<p>It was a reproof, certainly&mdash;Rosalind could go no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+farther in that direction. But her words had brought
+a mystery into existence, thus sharpening her interest
+in him. She was conscious, though, of a slight pique&mdash;what
+possible reason could he have for evasion? He
+had not the appearance of a fugitive from justice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So you&#8217;re going to live out here?&#8221; he said, after
+an interval. &#8220;Where?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard father speak of buying Blakeley&#8217;s place.
+Do you know where it is?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It adjoins mine.&#8221; There was a leaping note in
+his voice, which she did not fail to catch. &#8220;Do you
+see that dark line over there?&#8221; He pointed eastward&mdash;a
+mile perhaps. &#8220;That&#8217;s a gully; it divides
+my land from Blakeley&#8217;s. Blakeley told me a month
+ago that he was dickering with an eastern man. If
+you are thinking of looking the place over, and want
+a trustworthy escort I should be pleased to recommend&mdash;myself.&#8221;
+And he grinned widely at her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall consider your offer&mdash;and I thank you for
+it,&#8221; she returned. &#8220;I feel positive that father will buy
+a ranch here, for he has much faith in the future of
+Manti&mdash;he is obsessed with it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked sharply at her. &#8220;Then your father is
+going to have a hand in the development of Manti?
+I heard a rumor to the effect that some eastern company
+was interested, had, in fact, secured the water
+rights for an enormous section.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She remembered what Corrigan had told her, and
+blushingly dissembled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I put no faith in rumor&mdash;do you? Mr. Corrigan
+is the head of the company which is to develop
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>
+Manti. But of course <i>that</i> is an eastern company,
+isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He nodded, and she smiled at a thought that came
+to her. &#8220;How far is it to Blakeley&#8217;s ranchhouse?&#8221;
+she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;About two parasangs,&#8221; he answered gravely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she said, mimicking him; &#8220;I could <i>never</i>
+walk there, could I? If I go, I shall have to borrow a
+horse&mdash;or buy one. Could you recommend a horse
+that would be as trustworthy as the escort you have
+promised me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall go to Blakeley&#8217;s tomorrow,&#8221; he told her.
+&#8220;I shall bring you a trustworthy horse at ten o&#8217;clock
+in the morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They were approaching the cut, and she nodded an
+acceptance. An instant later he was talking to his
+men, and she sat near him, watching them as they
+raced over the plains toward the Diamond K ranchhouse.
+One man remained; he was without a mount,
+and he grinned with embarrassment when Rosalind&#8217;s
+gaze rested on him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she said; &#8220;you are waiting for your horse!
+How stupid of me!&#8221; She dismounted and turned the
+animal over to him. When she looked around, Trevison
+had also dismounted and was coming toward her,
+leading the black, the reins looped through his arm.
+Rosalind flushed, and thought of Agatha, but offered
+no objection.</p>
+<p>It was a long walk down the slope of the hill and
+around its base to the private car, but they made it
+still longer by walking slowly and taking the most
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
+roundabout way. Three persons saw them coming&mdash;Agatha,
+standing rigid on the platform; the negro
+attendant, standing behind Agatha in the doorway,
+his eyes wide with interest; and Carson, seated on a
+boulder a little distance down the cut, grinning broadly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bedad,&#8221; he rumbled; &#8220;the bhoy&#8217;s made a hit wid
+her, or I&#8217;m a sinner! But didn&#8217;t I know he wud?
+The two bulldogs is goin&#8217; to have it now, sure as I&#8217;m
+a foot high!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_A_JUDICIAL_PUPPET' id='VI_A_JUDICIAL_PUPPET'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3>A JUDICIAL PUPPET</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Bowling along over the new tracks toward
+Manti in a special car secured at Dry Bottom by
+Corrigan, one compartment of which was packed closely
+with books, papers, ledger records, legal documents,
+blanks, and even office furniture, Judge Lindman
+watched the landscape unfold with mingled feelings
+of trepidation, reluctance, and impotent regret. The
+Judge&#8217;s face was not a strong one&mdash;had it been he
+would not have been seated in the special car, talking
+with Corrigan. He was just under sixty-five years,
+and their weight seemed to rest heavily upon him.
+His eyes were slightly bleary, and had a look of weariness,
+as though he had endured much and was utterly
+tired. His mouth was flaccid, the lips pouting when
+he compressed his jaws, giving his face the sullen, indecisive
+look of the brooder lacking the mental and physical
+courage of independent action and initiative. The
+Judge could be led; Corrigan was leading him now,
+and the Judge was reluctant, but his courage had oozed,
+back in Dry Bottom, when Corrigan had mentioned a
+culpable action which the Judge had regretted many
+times.</p>
+<p>Some legal records of the county were on the table
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+between the two men. The Judge had objected when
+Corrigan had secured them from the compartment
+where the others were piled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t regular, Mr. Corrigan,&#8221; he had said; &#8220;no
+one except a legally authorized person has the right to
+look over those books.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll say that I am legally authorized, then,&#8221;
+grinned Corrigan. The look in his eyes was one of
+amused contempt. &#8220;It isn&#8217;t the only irregular thing
+you have done, Lindman.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge subsided, but back in his eyes was a
+slumbering hatred for this man, who was forcing him
+to complicity in another crime. He regretted that
+other crime; why should this man deliberately remind
+him of it?</p>
+<p>After looking over the records, Corrigan outlined a
+scheme of action that made the Judge&#8217;s face blanch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t be a party to any such scurrilous undertaking!&#8221;
+he declared when, he could trust his voice;
+&#8220;I&mdash;I won&#8217;t permit it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan stretched his legs out under the table,
+shoved his hands into his trousers&#8217; pockets and laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why the high moral attitude, Judge? It doesn&#8217;t
+become you. Refuse if you like. When we get to
+Manti I shall wire Benham. It&#8217;s likely he&#8217;ll feel pretty
+sore. He&#8217;s got his heart set on this. And I have
+no doubt that after he gets my wire he&#8217;ll jump the
+next train for Washington, and&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge exclaimed with weak incoherence, and a
+few minutes later he was bending over the records
+with Corrigan&mdash;the latter making sundry copies on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
+a pad of paper, which he placed in a pocket when the
+work was completed.</p>
+<p>At noon the special car was in Manti. Corrigan, the
+Judge, and Braman, carried the Judge&#8217;s effects and
+stored them in the rear room of the bank building.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll build you a courthouse, tomorrow,&#8221; he promised
+the Judge; &#8220;big enough for you and a number of
+deputies. You&#8217;ll need deputies, you know.&#8221; He grinned
+as the Judge shrank. Then, leaving the Judge in the
+room with his books and papers, Corrigan drew Braman
+outside.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I got hell from Benham for destroying Trevison&#8217;s
+check&mdash;he wired me to attend to my other deals and
+let him run the railroad&mdash;the damned old fool! You
+must have taken the cash to Trevison&mdash;I see the gang&#8217;s
+working again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The cash went,&#8221; said the banker, watching Corrigan
+covertly, &#8220;but I didn&#8217;t take it. J. C. wired
+explicit orders for his daughter to act.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan cursed viciously, his face dark with wrath
+as he turned to look at the private car, on the switch.
+The banker watched him with secret, vindictive enjoyment.
+Miss Benham had judged Braman correctly&mdash;he
+was cold, crafty, selfish, and wholly devoid of sympathy.
+He was for Braman, first and last&mdash;and in
+the interim.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Benham went to the cut&mdash;so I hear,&#8221; he
+went on, smoothly. &#8220;Trevison wasn&#8217;t there. Miss
+Benham went to the Diamond K.&#8221; His eyes gleamed
+as Corrigan&#8217;s hands clenched. &#8220;Trevison rode back to
+the car with her&mdash;which she had ordered taken to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+cut,&#8221; went on the banker. &#8220;And this morning about
+ten o&#8217;clock Trevison came here with a led horse. He
+and Miss Benham rode away together. I heard her
+tell her aunt they were going to Blakeley&#8217;s ranch&mdash;it&#8217;s
+about eight miles from here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s face went white. &#8220;I&#8217;ll kill him for that!&#8221;
+he said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jealous, eh?&#8221; laughed the banker. &#8220;So, that&#8217;s
+the reason&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan turned and struck bitterly. The banker&#8217;s
+jaws clacked sharply&mdash;otherwise he fell silently, striking
+his head against the edge of the step and rolling,
+face down, into the dust.</p>
+<p>When he recovered and sat up, Corrigan had gone.
+The banker gazed foolishly around at a world that
+was still reeling&mdash;felt his jaw carefully, wonder and
+astonishment in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you know about that?&#8221; he asked of the
+surrounding silence. &#8220;I&#8217;ve kidded him about women
+before, and he never got sore. He must be in love!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Riding through a saccaton basin, the green-brown
+tips so high that they caught at their stirrups as they
+rode slowly along; a white, smiling sky above them and
+Blakeley&#8217;s still three miles away, Miss Benham and
+Trevison were chatting gayly at the instant the banker
+had received Corrigan&#8217;s blow.</p>
+<p>Miss Benham had spent the night thinking of Trevison,
+and she had spent much of her time during the
+present ride stealing glances at him. She had discovered
+something about him that had eluded her the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
+day before&mdash;an impulsive boyishness. It was hidden
+behind the manhood of him, so that the casual observer
+would not be likely to see it; men would have failed
+to see it, because she was certain that with men he
+would not let it be seen. But she knew the recklessness
+that shone in his eyes, the energy that slumbered
+in them ready to be applied any moment in response
+to any whim that might seize him, were traits that
+had not yet yielded to the stern governors of manhood&mdash;nor
+would they yield in many years to come&mdash;they
+were the fountains of virility that would keep him
+young. She felt the irresistible appeal of him, responsive
+to the youth that flourished in her own heart&mdash;and
+Corrigan, older, more ponderous, less addicted
+to impulse, grew distant in her thoughts and vision.
+The day before yesterday her sympathies had been
+with Corrigan&mdash;she had thought. But as she rode
+she knew that they were threatening to desert him.
+For this man of heroic mold who rode beside her was
+disquietingly captivating in the bold recklessness of his
+youth.</p>
+<p>They climbed the far slope of the basin and halted
+their horses on the crest. Before them stretched a
+plain so big and vast and inviting that it made the
+girl gasp with delight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she said, awed; &#8220;isn&#8217;t it wonderful?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew you&#8217;d like it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The East has nothing like this,&#8221; she said, with a
+broad sweep of the hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>She turned on him triumphantly. &#8220;There!&#8221; she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>
+declared; &#8220;you have committed yourself. You are
+from the East!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said; &#8220;I&#8217;ve never denied it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Something vague and subtle had drawn them together
+during the ride, bridging the hiatus of strangeness,
+making them feel that they had been acquainted
+long. It did not seem impertinent to her that she
+should ask the question that she now put to him&mdash;she
+felt that her interest in him permitted it:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are an easterner, and yet you have been out
+here for about ten years. Your house is big and substantial,
+but I should judge that it has no comforts,
+no conveniences. You live there alone, except for
+some men, and you have male servants&mdash;if you have
+any. Why should you bury yourself here? You are
+educated, you are young. There are great opportunities
+for you in the East!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She paused, for she saw a cynical expression in his
+eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221; she said, impatiently, for she had been
+very much in earnest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I&#8217;ve got to tell you,&#8221; he said, soberly.
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t know what has come over me&mdash;you seem
+to have me under a spell. I&#8217;ve never spoken about it
+before. I don&#8217;t know why I should now. But you&#8217;ve
+got to know, I presume.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;On your head rest the blame,&#8221; he said, his grin
+still cynical; &#8220;and upon mine the consequences. It
+isn&#8217;t a pretty story to tell; it&#8217;s only virtue is its brevity.
+I was fired out of college for fighting. The fellows
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+I licked deserved what they got&mdash;and I deserved
+what I got for breaking rules. I&#8217;ve always broken
+rules. I may have broken laws&mdash;most of us have.
+My father is wealthy. The last time I saw him he
+said I was incorrigible and a dunce. I admit the former,
+but I&#8217;m going to make him take the other back.
+I told him so. He replied that he was from Missouri.
+He gave me an opportunity to make good by cutting off
+my allowance. There was a girl. When my allowance
+was cut off she made me feel cold as an Eskimo.
+Told me straight that she had never liked me in the
+way she&#8217;d led me to believe she did, and that she
+was engaged to a <i>real</i> man. She made the mistake of
+telling me his name, and it happened to be one of the
+fellows I&#8217;d had trouble with at college. The girl lost
+her temper and told me things he&#8217;d said about me. I
+left New York that night, but before I hopped on
+the train I stopped in to see my rival and gave him the
+bulliest trimming that I had ever given anybody. I
+came out here and took up a quarter-section of land.
+I bought more&mdash;after a while. I own five thousand
+acres, and about a thousand acres of it is the best coal
+land in the United States. I wouldn&#8217;t sell it for love
+or money, for when your father gets his railroad running,
+I&#8217;m going to cash in on ten of the leanest and
+hardest and lonesomest years that any man ever put in.
+I&#8217;m going back some day. But I won&#8217;t stay. I&#8217;ve lived
+in this country so long that it&#8217;s got into my heart and
+soul. It&#8217;s a golden paradise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She did not share his enthusiasm&mdash;her thoughts
+were selfishly personal, though they included him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And the girl!&#8221; she said. &#8220;When you go back,
+would you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never!&#8221; he scoffed, vehemently. &#8220;That would
+convince me that I am the dunce my father said I was!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl turned her head and smiled. And a little
+later, when they were riding on again, she murmured
+softly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ten years of lonesomeness and bitterness to save
+his pride! I wonder if Hester Keyes knows what she
+has missed?&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_TWO_LETTERS_GO_EAST' id='VII_TWO_LETTERS_GO_EAST'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3>TWO LETTERS GO EAST</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>After Agatha retired that night Rosalind sat for
+a long time writing at a little desk in the private
+car. She was tingling with excitement over a discovery
+she had made, and was yearning for a confidante. Since
+it had not been her habit to confide in Agatha, she did
+the next best thing, which was to indite a letter to her
+chum, Ruth Gresham. In one place she wrote:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you remember Hester Keyes&#8217; love affair of
+ten years ago? You certainly must remember it! If
+you cannot, permit me to brush the dust of forgetfulness
+away. You cannot forget the night you met William
+Kinkaid? Of course you cannot forget that, for
+when you are Mrs. Kinkaid&mdash;But there! I won&#8217;t
+poke fun at you. But I think every married person
+needs to treasure every shred of romance against inevitable
+hum-drum days. Isn&#8217;t that a sad sentiment? But
+I want to get ahead with my reminder.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There followed much detail, having to do with Hester
+Keyes&#8217; party, to which neither Rosalind nor Ruth
+Gresham had been invited, for reasons which Rosalind
+presently made obvious. She continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, custom does not permit girls of fourteen
+to figure prominently at &#8216;coming-out&#8217; parties, but
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+after one is there and is relegated to a stair-landing,
+one may use one&#8217;s eyes without restriction. Do you
+remember my pointing out Hester Keyes&#8217; &#8216;fellow&#8217;?
+But of course you didn&#8217;t pay much attention to him
+after Billy Kinkaid sailed into your vision! But I
+envied Hester Keyes her eighteen years&mdash;and Trevison
+Brandon! He had the blackest eyes and hair!
+And he simply adored Hester! It made me feel positively
+savage when I heard shortly afterward that
+she had thrown him over&mdash;after his father cut him
+off&mdash;to take up with that fellow Harvey&mdash;I never
+could remember his first name. And she married Harvey&mdash;and
+regretted it, until Harvey died.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ruth, Trevison Brandon is out here. He calls
+himself &#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison. I met him two days ago,
+and I did not recognize him, he has changed so much.
+He puzzled me quite a little; but not even when I heard
+his name did I connect him with the man I had seen
+at Hester&#8217;s party. Ten years is <i>such</i> a long time, isn&#8217;t
+it? And I never did have much of a memory for
+names. But today he went with me to a certain ranch&mdash;Blakeley&#8217;s&mdash;which,
+by the way, <i>father is going to
+buy</i>&mdash;and on the way we became very much
+acquainted, and he told me about his love affair. I
+placed him instantly, then, and why I didn&#8217;t keel over
+was, I suppose, because of the curious big saddles they
+have out here, with enormous wooden <i>stirrups</i> on them.
+I can hear you exclaim over that plural, but there are
+no side-saddles. That is how it came that I was
+unchaperoned&mdash;Agatha won&#8217;t take liberties with them,
+the saddles. Thank Heaven!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></p>
+<p>There followed much more, with only one further
+reference to Trevison:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He must be nearly thirty now, but he doesn&#8217;t look
+it, he&#8217;s so boyish. I gather, though, that he is regarded
+as a <i>man</i> out here, where, I understand, manhood is
+measured by something besides mere appearances. He
+owns acres and acres of land&mdash;some of it has coal on
+it; and he is sure to be enormously wealthy, some day.
+But I am twenty-four, myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The startling irrelevance of this sentence at first
+surprised Ruth Gresham, and then caused her eyes to
+brighten understandingly, as she read the letter a few
+days later. She remarked, musingly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The inevitable hum-drum days, eh? And yet most
+people long for them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Another letter was written when the one to Ruth
+was completed. It was to J. Chalfant Benham.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Daddy</span>:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The West is a golden paradise. I could live here
+many, many years. I visited Mr. Blakeley today. He
+calls his ranch the Bar B. We wouldn&#8217;t have to change
+the brand, would we? Trevison says the ranch is worth
+all Blakeley asks for it. Mr. Blakeley says we can take
+possession immediately, so I have decided to stay here.
+Mrs. Blakeley has invited me, and I am going to have
+my things taken over tomorrow. Since the Blakeley&#8217;s
+are anxious to sell out and return South, don&#8217;t you
+think you had better conclude the deal at once?</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>&#8220;Lovingly,</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Rosalind</span>.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VIII_THE_CHAOS_OF_CREATION' id='VIII_THE_CHAOS_OF_CREATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3>THE CHAOS OF CREATION</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The West saw many &#8220;boom&#8221; towns. They followed
+in the wake of &#8220;gold strikes;&#8221; they grew,
+mushroom-like, overnight&mdash;garish husks of squalor,
+palpitating, hardy, a-tingle with extravagant hopes. A
+few, it is true, lived to become substantial cities buzzing
+with the American spirit, panting, fighting for progress
+with an energy that shamed the Old World, lethargic
+in its smug and self-sufficient superiority. But
+many towns died in their gangling youth, tragic monuments
+to hopes; but monuments also to effort, and to
+the pioneer courage and the dreams of an empire-building
+people.</p>
+<p>Manti was destined to live. It was a boom town
+with material reasons for substantial growth. Behind
+it were the resources of a railroad company which
+would anticipate the development of a section of country
+bigger than a dozen Old-world states, and men
+with brains keen enough to realize the commercial possibilities
+it held. It had Corrigan for an advance agent&mdash;big,
+confident, magnetic, energetic, suave, smooth.</p>
+<p>Manti had awaited his coming; he was the magic
+force, the fulfillment of the rumored promise. He had
+stayed away for three weeks, following his departure
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+on the special car after bringing Judge Lindman, and
+when he stepped off the car again at the end of that
+time Manti was &#8220;humming,&#8221; as he had predicted. During
+the three weeks of his absence, the switch at Manti
+had never been unoccupied. Trains had been coming in
+regularly bearing merchandise, men, tools, machines,
+supplies. Engineers had arrived; the basin near Manti,
+choked by a narrow gorge at its westerly end (where
+the dam was to be built) was dotted with tents, wagons,
+digging implements, a miscellany of material whose
+hauling had worn a rutted trail over the plains and
+on the slope of the basin, continually active with wagon-train
+and pack horse, and articulate with sweating,
+cursing drivers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s a pippin!&#8221; gleefully confided a sleek-looking
+individual who might have been mistaken for a western
+&#8220;parson&#8221; had it not been for a certain sophisticated
+cynicism that was prominent about him, and which
+imparted a distasteful taint of his profession. &#8220;Give
+me a year of this and I&#8217;ll open a joint in Frisco! I
+cleaned out a brace of bull-whackers in the <i>Plaza</i> last
+night&mdash;their first pay. Afterward I stung a couple of
+cattlemen for a hundred each. Look at her hum!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Notwithstanding that it was midday, Manti was
+teeming with life and action. Since the day that Miss
+Benham had viewed the town from the window of the
+private car, Manti had added more than a hundred
+buildings to its total. They were not attractive; they
+were ludicrous in their pitiful masquerade of substantial
+types. Here and there a three-story structure reared
+aloft, sheathed with galvanized iron, a garish aristocrat
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+seemingly conscious of its superiority, brazen, in
+its bid for attention; more modest buildings seemed
+dwarfed, humiliated, squatting sullenly and enviously.
+There were hotels, rooming-houses, boarding-houses,
+stores, dwellings, saloons&mdash;and others which for many
+reasons need not be mentioned. But they were pulsating
+with life, electric, eager, expectant. Taking
+advantage of the scarcity of buildings, an enterprising
+citizen had erected tents in rows on the street line,
+for whose shelter he charged enormously&mdash;and did
+a capacity business.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A hundred came in on the last train,&#8221; complained
+the over-worked station agent. &#8220;God knows what
+they all expect to do here!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan had kept his promise to build Judge Lindman
+a courthouse. It was a flat-roofed structure, one
+story high, wedged between a saloon and Braman&#8217;s
+bank building. A sign in the front window of Braman&#8217;s
+bank announced that Jefferson Corrigan, agent
+of the Land &amp; Improvement Company, of New York,
+had office space within, but on the morning of the day
+following his return to Manti, Corrigan was seated at
+one side of a flat-top desk in the courthouse, talking
+with Judge Lindman, who sat at the other side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Got them all transcribed?&#8221; asked Corrigan.</p>
+<p>The Judge drew a thin ledger from his desk and
+passed it over to Corrigan. As Corrigan turned the
+pages and his face lighted, the Judge&#8217;s grew correspondingly
+troubled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; exulted Corrigan. &#8220;This purports to
+be an accurate and true record of all the land transactions
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+in this section from the special grant to the
+Midland Company, down to date. It shows no intermediate
+owners from the Midland Company to the
+present claimants. As a document arraigning carelessness
+on the part of land buyers it cannot be excelled.
+There isn&#8217;t a present owner that has a legal leg to
+stand on!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is only one weak point in your case,&#8221; said
+the Judge, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, which
+he concealed by bowing his head. &#8220;It is that since
+these records show no sale of its property by the Midland
+Company, the Midland Company can come forward
+and re-establish its title.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan laughed and flipped a legal-looking paper
+in front of the Judge. The latter opened it and read,
+showing eagerness. He laid it down after reading,
+his hands trembling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It shows that the Midland Company&mdash;James Marchmont, president&mdash;transferred
+to Jefferson Corrigan, on a date prior to these other transactions, one-hundred
+thousand acres of land here&mdash;the Midland
+Company&#8217;s entire holdings. Why, man, it is forgery!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Corrigan quietly. &#8220;James Marchmont
+is alive. He signed his name right where it is. He&#8217;ll
+confirm it, too, for he happens to be in something of
+the fix that you are in. Therefore, there being no
+records of any sales on your books&mdash;as revised, of
+course&mdash;&#8221; he laughed; &#8220;Jeff Corrigan is the legal possessor
+of one-hundred thousand acres of land right in
+the heart of what is going to be the boom section of
+the West!&#8221; He chuckled, lit a cigar, leaned back
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
+in his chair and looked at the Judge. &#8220;All you have
+to do now is to enter that transaction on your records.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t expect the present owners to yield their
+titles without a fight, do you?&#8221; asked the Judge. He
+spoke breathlessly.</p>
+<p>Corrigan grunted. &#8220;Sure; they&#8217;ll fight. But they&#8217;ll
+lose. I&#8217;ve got them. I&#8217;ve got the power&mdash;the courts&mdash;the
+law, behind me. I&#8217;ve got them, and I&#8217;ll squeeze
+them. It means a mint of money, man. It will make
+you. It&#8217;s the biggest thing that any man ever attempted
+to pull off in this country!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it&#8217;s big,&#8221; groaned the Judge; &#8220;it&#8217;s stupendous!
+It&#8217;s frightful! Why, man, if anything goes
+wrong, it would mean&mdash;&#8221; He paused and shivered.</p>
+<p>Corrigan smiled contemptuously. &#8220;Where&#8217;s the
+original record?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I destroyed it,&#8221; said the Judge. He did not look
+at Corrigan. &#8220;How?&#8221; demanded the latter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Burned it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good.&#8221; Corrigan rubbed his palms together. &#8220;It&#8217;s
+too soon to start anything. Things are booming, and
+some of these owners will be trying to sell. Hold
+them off&mdash;don&#8217;t record anything. Give them any
+excuse that comes to your mind. Have you heard from
+Washington?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The establishment of the court here has been confirmed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Quick work,&#8221; laughed Corrigan. He got up, murmuring
+something about having to take care of some
+leases. When he turned, it was to start and stand
+rigid, his jaws set, his face pale. A man stood in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>
+open doorway&mdash;a man of about fifty apparently, furtive-eyed,
+slightly shabby, though with an atmosphere
+about him that hinted of past dignity of carriage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim Marchmont!&#8221; said Corrigan. He stepped
+forward, threateningly, his face dark with wrath. Without
+speaking another word he seized the newcomer
+by the coat collar, snapping his head back savagely,
+and dragged him back of a wooden partition. Concealed
+there from any of the curious in the street, he
+jammed Marchmont against the wall of the building,
+held him there with one hand and stuck a huge fist into
+his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What in hell are you doing here?&#8221; he demanded.
+&#8220;Come clean, or I&#8217;ll tear you apart!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The other laughed, but there was no mirth in it,
+and his thin lips were curved queerly, and were stiff
+and white. &#8220;Don&#8217;t get excited, Jeff,&#8221; he said; &#8220;it
+won&#8217;t be healthy.&#8221; And Corrigan felt something hard
+and cold against his shirt front. He knew it was a
+pistol and he released his hold and stepped back.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Speaking of coming clean,&#8221; said Marchmont.
+&#8220;You crossed me. You told me you were going to
+sell the Midland land to two big ranch-owners. I find
+that you&#8217;re going to cut it up into lots and make big
+money&mdash;loads of it. You handed me a measly thousand.
+You stand to make millions. I want my divvy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got your nerve,&#8221; scoffed Corrigan. &#8220;You
+got your bit when you sold the Midland before. You&#8217;re
+a self-convicted crook, and if you make a peep out
+here I&#8217;ll send you over the road for a thousand years!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Another thousand now,&#8221; said Marchmont: &#8220;and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+ten more when you commence to cash in. Otherwise,
+a thousand years or not, I&#8217;ll start yapping here and
+queer your game.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s lips were in an ugly pout. For an instant
+it seemed he was going to defy his visitor. Then without
+a word to him he stepped around the partition,
+walked out the door and entered the bank. A few
+minutes later he passed a bundle of greenbacks to
+Marchmont and escorted him to the front door, where
+he stood, watching, his face unpleasant, until Marchmont
+vanished into one of the saloons.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That settles <i>you</i>, you damned fool!&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>He stepped down into the street and went into the
+bank. Braman fawned on him, smirking insincerely.
+Corrigan had not apologized for striking the blow,
+had never mentioned it, continuing his former attitude
+toward the banker as though nothing had happened.
+But Braman had not forgiven him. Corrigan wasted
+no words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;s the best gun-man in this section?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Braman studied a minute. &#8220;Clay Levins,&#8221; he said,
+finally.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can you find him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, he&#8217;s in town today; I saw him not more than
+fifteen minutes ago, going into the <i>Elk</i>!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Find him and bring him here&mdash;by the back way,&#8221;
+directed Corrigan.</p>
+<p>Braman went out, wondering. A few minutes later
+he returned, coming in at the front door, smiling with
+triumph. Shortly afterward Corrigan was opening the
+rear door on a tall, slender man of thirty-five, with a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+thin face, a mouth that drooped at the corners, and
+alert, furtive eyes. He wore a heavy pistol at his
+right hip, low, the bottom of the holster tied to the
+leather chaps, and as Corrigan closed the door he
+noted that the man&#8217;s right hand lingered close to the
+butt of the weapon.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right,&#8221; said Corrigan; &#8220;you&#8217;re perfectly
+safe here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He talked in low tones to the man, so that Braman
+could not hear. Levins departed shortly afterwards,
+grinning crookedly, tucking a piece of paper into a
+pocket, upon which Corrigan had transcribed something
+that had been written on the cuff of his shirt sleeve.
+Corrigan went to his desk and busied himself with some
+papers. Over in the courthouse, Judge Lindman took
+from a drawer in his desk a thin ledger&mdash;a duplicate
+of the one he had shown Corrigan&mdash;and going to the
+rear of the room opened the door of an iron safe and
+stuck the ledger out of sight under a mass of legal
+papers.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>When Marchmont left Corrigan he went straight to
+the <i>Plaza</i>, where he ordered a lunch and ate heartily.
+After finishing his meal he emerged from the saloon
+and stood near one of the front windows. One of the
+hundred dollar bills that Corrigan had given him he
+had &#8220;broke&#8221; in the <i>Plaza</i>, getting bills of small denomination
+in change, and in his right trousers&#8217; pocket was
+a roll that bulked comfortably in his hand. The feel
+of it made him tingle with satisfaction, as, except for
+the other thousand that Corrigan had given him some
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+months ago, it was the only money he had had for a
+long time. He knew he should take the next train out
+of Manti; that he had done a hazardous thing in baiting
+Corrigan, but he was lonesome and yearned for
+the touch and voice of the crowds that thronged in
+and out of the saloons and the stores, and presently he
+joined them, wandering from saloon to saloon, drinking
+occasionally, his content and satisfaction increasing
+in proportion to the quantity of liquor he drank.</p>
+<p>And then, at about three o&#8217;clock, in the barroom of
+the <i>Plaza</i>, he heard a discordant voice at his elbow.
+He saw men crowding, jostling one another to get
+away from the spot where he stood&mdash;crouching, pale
+of face, their eyes on him. It made him feel that he
+was the center of interest, and he wheeled, staggering
+a little&mdash;for he had drunk much more than he had
+intended&mdash;to see what had happened. He saw Clay
+Levins standing close to him, his thin lips in a cruel
+curve, his eyes narrowed and glittering, his body in a
+suggestive crouch. The silence that had suddenly
+descended smote Marchmont&#8217;s ears like a momentary
+deafness, and he looked foolishly around him, uncertain,
+puzzled. Levins&#8217; voice shocked him, sobered him,
+whitened his face:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fork over that coin you lifted from me in the <i>Elk</i>,
+you light-fingered hound!&#8221; said Levins.</p>
+<p>Marchmont divined the truth now. He made his
+second mistake of the day. He allowed a flash of rage
+to trick him into reaching for his pistol. He got it
+into his hand and almost out of the pocket before
+Levins&#8217; first bullet struck him, and before he could
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+draw it entirely out the second savage bark of the gun
+in Levins&#8217; hand shattered the stillness of the room.
+Soundlessly, his face wreathed in a grin of hideous
+satire, Marchmont sank to the floor and stretched
+out on his back.</p>
+<p>Before his body was still, Levins had drawn out the
+bills that had reposed in his victim&#8217;s pocket. Crumpling
+them in his hand he walked to the bar and tossed them
+to the barkeeper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look at &#8217;em,&#8221; he directed. &#8220;I&#8217;m provin&#8217; they&#8217;re
+mine. Good thing I got the numbers on &#8217;em.&#8221; While
+the crowd jostled and crushed about him he read the
+numbers from the paper Corrigan had given him, grinning
+coldly as the barkeeper confirmed them. A deputy
+sheriff elbowed his way through the press to Levins&#8217;
+side, and the gun-man spoke to him, lightly: &#8220;I reckon
+everybody saw him reach for his gun when I told him
+to fork the coin over,&#8221; he said, indicating his victim.
+&#8220;So you ain&#8217;t got nothin&#8217; on me. But if you&#8217;re figgerin&#8217;
+that the coin ain&#8217;t mine, why I reckon a guy named
+Corrigan will back up my play.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The deputy took him at his word. They found Corrigan
+at his desk in the bank building.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure,&#8221; he said when the deputy had told his story;
+&#8220;I paid Levins the money this morning. Is it necessary
+for you to know what for? No? Well, it seems
+that the pickpocket got just what he deserved.&#8221; He
+offered the deputy a cigar, and the latter went out,
+satisfied.</p>
+<p>Later, Corrigan looked appraisingly at Levins, who
+still graced the office.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;That was rather an easy job,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Marchmont
+was slow with a gun. With a faster man&mdash;a
+man, say&mdash;&#8221; he appeared to meditate &#8220;&mdash;like Trevison,
+for instance. You&#8217;d have to be pretty careful&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison&#8217;s my friend,&#8221; grinned Levins coldly as
+he got to his feet. &#8220;There&#8217;s nothin&#8217; doin&#8217; there&mdash;understand?
+Get it out of your brain-box, for if anything
+happens to &#8216;Firebrand,&#8217; I&#8217;ll perforate you sure
+as hell!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stalked out of the office, leaving Corrigan looking
+after him, frowningly.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IX_STRAIGHT_TALK' id='IX_STRAIGHT_TALK'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3>STRAIGHT TALK</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ten years of lonesomeness, of separation from all
+the things he held dear, with nothing for his soul
+to feed upon except the bitterness he got from a contemplation
+of the past; with nothing but his pride and
+his determination to keep him from becoming what he
+had seen many men in this country become&mdash;dissolute
+irresponsibles, drifting like ships without rudders&mdash;had
+brought into Trevison&#8217;s heart a great longing. He
+was like a man who for a long time has been deprived
+of the solace of good tobacco, and&mdash;to use a simile
+that he himself manufactured&mdash;he yearned to capture
+someone from the East, sit beside him and fill his lungs,
+his brain, his heart, his soul, with the breath, the aroma,
+the spirit of the land of his youth. The appearance of
+Miss Benham at Manti had thrilled him. For ten years
+he had seen no eastern woman, and at sight of her
+the old hunger of the soul became acute in him, aroused
+in him a passionate worship that made his blood run
+riot. It was the call of sex to sex, made doubly stirring
+by the girl&#8217;s beauty, her breeziness, her virile,
+alluring womanhood&mdash;by the appeal she made to the
+love of the good and the true in his character. His
+affection for Hester Keyes, he had long known, had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+been merely the vanity-tickling regard of the callow
+youth&mdash;the sex attraction of adolescence, the &#8220;puppy&#8221;
+love that smites all youth alike. For Rosalind Benham a
+deeper note had been struck. Its force rocked him,
+intoxicated him; his head rang with the music it made.</p>
+<p>During the three weeks of her stay at Blakeley&#8217;s
+they had been much together. Rosalind had accepted
+his companionship as a matter of course. He had told
+her many things about his past, and was telling her
+many more things, as they sat today on an isolated
+excrescence of sand and rock and bunch grass surrounded
+by a sea of sage. From where they sat they
+could see Manti&mdash;Manti, alive, athrob, its newly-come
+hundreds busy as ants with their different pursuits.</p>
+<p>The intoxication of the girl&#8217;s presence had never
+been so great as it was today. A dozen times, drunken
+with the nearness of her, with the delicate odor from
+her hair, as a stray wisp fluttered into his face, he had
+come very near to catching her in his arms. But he
+had grimly mastered the feeling, telling himself that
+he was not a savage, and that such an action would be
+suicidal to his hopes. It cost him an effort, though, to
+restrain himself, as his flushed face, his burning eyes
+and his labored breath, told.</p>
+<p>His broken wrist had healed. His hatred of Corrigan
+had been kept alive by a recollection of the fight,
+by a memory of the big man&#8217;s quickness to take advantage
+of the banker&#8217;s foul trick, and by the passion for
+revenge that had seized him, that held him in a burning
+clutch. Jealousy of the big man he would not have
+admitted; but something swelled his chest when he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+thought of Corrigan coming West in the same car with
+the girl&mdash;a vague, gnawing something that made his
+teeth clench and his facial muscles cord.</p>
+<p>Rosalind had not told him that she had recognized
+him, that during the ten years of his exile he had been
+her ideal, but she could close her eyes at this minute
+and imagine herself on the stair-landing at Hester
+Keyes&#8217; party, could feel the identical wave of thrilling
+admiration that had passed over her when her gaze
+had first rested on him. Yes, it had survived, that girlhood
+passion, but she had grown much older and experienced,
+and she could not let him see what she felt.
+But her curiosity was keener than ever; in no other
+man of her acquaintance had she felt this intense
+interest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I remember you telling me the other day that your
+men would have used their rifles, had the railroad company
+attempted to set men to work in the cut. I presume
+you must have given them orders to shoot. I
+can&#8217;t understand you. You were raised in the East,
+your parents are wealthy; it is presumed they gave you
+advantages&mdash;in fact, you told me they had sent you
+to college. You must have learned respect for the law
+while there. And yet you would have had your men
+resist forcibly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told you before that I respected the law&mdash;so
+long as the law is just and the fellow I&#8217;m fighting is
+governed by it. But I refuse to fight under a rule
+that binds one of my hands, while my opponent sails
+into me with both hands free. I&#8217;ve never been a believer
+in the doctrine of &#8216;turn the other cheek.&#8217; We are made
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+with a capacity for feeling, and it boils, unrestrained,
+in me. I never could play the hypocrite; I couldn&#8217;t
+say &#8216;no&#8217; when I thought &#8216;yes&#8217; and make anybody believe
+it. I couldn&#8217;t lie and evade and side-step, even to
+keep from getting licked. I always told the truth and
+expressed my feelings in language as straight, simple,
+and direct as I could. It wasn&#8217;t always the discreet
+way. Perhaps it wasn&#8217;t always the wise way. I won&#8217;t
+argue that. But it was the only way I knew. It caused
+me a lot of trouble&mdash;I was always in trouble. My
+record in college would make a prize fighter turn green
+with envy. I&#8217;m not proud of what I&#8217;ve made of my
+life. But I haven&#8217;t changed. I do what my heart
+prompts me to do, and I say what I think, regardless
+of consequences.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That would be a very good method&mdash;if everybody
+followed it,&#8221; said the girl. &#8220;Unfortunately, it invites
+enmity. Subtlety will take you farther in the world.&#8221;
+She was smitten with an impulse, unwise, unconventional.
+But the conventions! The East seemed effete
+and far. Besides, she spoke lightly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let us be perfectly frank, then. I think that perhaps
+you take yourself too seriously. Life is a tragedy
+to the tragic, a joke to the humorous, a drab canvas
+to the unimaginative. It all depends upon what temperament
+one sees it through. I dare say that I see
+you differently than you see yourself. &#8217;O wad some
+power the giftie gi&#8217;e us to see oursel&#8217;s as ithers see us&#8217;,&#8221;
+she quoted, and laughed at the queer look in his eyes,
+for his admiration for her had leaped like a living
+thing at her bubbling spirits, and he was, figuratively,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+forced to place his heel upon it. &#8220;I confess it seems
+to me that you take a too tragic view of things,&#8221; she
+went on. &#8220;You are like D&#8217;Artagnan, always eager to
+fly at somebody&#8217;s throat. Possibly, you don&#8217;t give other
+people credit for unselfish motives; you are too suspicious;
+and what you call plain talk may seem impertinence
+to others&mdash;don&#8217;t you think? In any event,
+people don&#8217;t like to hear the truth told about themselves&mdash;especially
+by a big, earnest, sober-faced man who
+seems to speak with conviction, and, perhaps, authority.
+I think you look for trouble, instead of trying to
+evade it. I think, too,&#8221; she said, looking straight at
+him, &#8220;that you face the world in a too physical fashion;
+that you place too much dependence upon brawn and
+fire. That, following your own method of speaking
+your mind, is what I think of you. I tremble to imagine
+what you think of me for speaking so plainly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laughed, his voice vibrating, and bold passion
+gleamed in his eyes. He looked fairly at her, holding
+her gaze, compelling it with the intensity of his own,
+and she drew a deep, tremulous breath of understanding.
+There followed a tense, breathless silence. And
+then&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve brought it on yourself,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I love
+you. You are going to marry me&mdash;someday. That&#8217;s
+what I think of you!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-097.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 384px; height: 574px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 384px;'>
+&#8220;YOU ARE GOING TO MARRY ME&mdash;SOME DAY. THAT&#8217;S WHAT I THINK OF YOU!&#8221;<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>She got to her feet, her cheeks flaming, confused,
+half-frightened, though a fierce exultation surged within
+her. She had half expected this, half dreaded it, and
+now that it had burst upon her in such volcanic fashion
+she realized that she had not been entirely prepared.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+She sought refuge in banter, facing him, her cheeks
+flushed, her eyes dancing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Firebrand,&#8217;&#8221; she said. &#8220;The name fits you&mdash;Mr.
+Carson was right. I warned you&mdash;if you remember&mdash;that
+you placed too much dependence on brawn and
+fire. You are making it very hard for me to see you
+again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He had risen too, and stood before her, and he now
+laughed frankly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told you I couldn&#8217;t play the hypocrite. I have
+said what I think. I want you. But that doesn&#8217;t mean
+that I am going to carry you away to the mountains.
+I&#8217;ve got it off my mind, and I promise not to mention
+it again&mdash;until you wish it. But don&#8217;t forget that some
+day you are going to love me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How marvelous,&#8221; said she, tauntingly, though in
+her confusion she could not meet his gaze, looking
+downward. &#8220;How do you purpose to bring it about?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By loving you so strongly that you can&#8217;t help yourself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;With your confidence&mdash;&#8221; she began. But he interrupted,
+laughing:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re going to forget it, now,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I
+promised to show you that <i>Pueblo</i>, and we&#8217;ll have just
+about time enough to make it and back to the Bar B
+before dark.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And they rode away presently, chatting on indifferent
+subjects. And, keeping his promise, he said not
+another word about his declaration. But the girl, stealing
+glances at him, wondered much&mdash;and reached no
+decision.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></p>
+<p>When they reached the abandoned Indian village,
+many of its houses still standing, he laughed. &#8220;That
+would make a dandy fort.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Always thinking of fighting,&#8221; she mocked. But
+her eyes flashed as she looked at him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='X_THE_SPIRIT_OF_MANTI' id='X_THE_SPIRIT_OF_MANTI'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<h3>THE SPIRIT OF MANTI</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Benham private car had clacked eastward
+over the rails three weeks before, bearing with it
+as a passenger only the negro autocrat. At the last moment,
+discovering that she could not dissuade Rosalind
+from her mad decision to stay at Blakeley&#8217;s ranch,
+Agatha had accompanied her. The private car was now
+returning, bearing the man who had poetically declared
+to his fawning Board of Directors: &#8220;Our railroad is
+the magic wand that will make the desert bloom like the
+rose. We are embarked upon a project, gentlemen, so
+big, so vast, that it makes even your president feel a
+pulse of pride. This project is nothing more nor less
+than the opening of a region of waste country which
+an all-wise Creator has permitted to slumber for ages,
+for no less purpose than to reserve it to the horny-handed
+son of toil of our glorious country. It will
+awaken to the clarion call of our wealth, our brains,
+and our genius.&#8221; He then mentioned Corrigan and
+the Midland grant&mdash;another reservation of Providence,
+which a credulous and asinine Congress had
+bestowed, in fee-simple, upon a certain suave gentleman,
+named Marchmont&mdash;and disseminated such other
+details as a servile board of directors need know; and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+then he concluded with a flowery peroration that left
+his hearers smirking fatuously.</p>
+<p>And today J. Chalfant Benham was come to look
+upon the first fruits of his efforts.</p>
+<p>As he stepped down from the private car he was
+greeted by vociferous cheers from a jostling and enthusiastic
+populace&mdash;for J. C. had very carefully wired
+the time of his arrival and Corrigan had acted accordingly,
+knowing J. C. well. J. C. was charmed&mdash;he
+said so, later, in a speech from a flimsy, temporary
+stand erected in the middle of the street in front of the
+<i>Plaza</i>&mdash;and in saying so he merely told the truth. For,
+next to money-making, adulation pleased him most. He
+would have been an able man had he ignored the latter
+passion. It seared his intellect as a pernicious habit
+blasts the character. It sat on his shoulders&mdash;extravagantly
+squared; it shone in his eyes&mdash;inviting inspection;
+his lips, curved with smug complacence, betrayed
+it as, sitting in Corrigan&#8217;s office after the conclusion
+of the festivities, he smiled at the big man.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Manti is a wonderful town&mdash;a <i>wonderful</i> town!&#8221;
+he declared. &#8220;It may be said that success is lurking
+just ahead. And much of the credit is due to your
+efforts,&#8221; he added, generously.</p>
+<p>Corrigan murmured a polite disclaimer, and plunged
+into dry details. J. C. had a passion for dry details.
+For many hours they sat in the office, their heads close
+together. Braman was occasionally called in. Judge
+Lindman was summoned after a time. J. C. shook the
+Judge&#8217;s hand warmly and then resumed his chair, folding
+his chubby hands over his corpulent stomach.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Judge Lindman,&#8221; he said; &#8220;you thoroughly understand
+our position in this Midland affair.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge glanced at Corrigan. &#8220;Thoroughly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No doubt there will be some contests. But the
+present claimants have no legal status. Mr. &mdash; (here
+J. C. mentioned a name that made the Judge&#8217;s eyes
+brighten) tells me there will be no hitch. There could
+not be, of course. In the absence of any court record
+of possible transfers, the title to the land, of course,
+reverts to the Midland Company. As Mr. Corrigan
+has explained to me, he is entirely within his rights, having
+secured the title to the land from Mr. Marchmont,
+representing the Midland. You have no record of any
+transfers from the Midland to the present claimants
+or their predecessors, have you? There is no such
+record?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge saw Corrigan&#8217;s amused grin, and surmised
+that J. C. was merely playing with him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said, with some bitterness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then of course you are going to stand with Mr.
+Corrigan against the present claimants?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I presume so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;H&#8217;m,&#8221; said J. C. &#8220;If there is any doubt about it,
+perhaps I had better remind you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge groaned in agony of spirit. &#8220;It won&#8217;t
+be necessary to remind me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I thought. Well, gentlemen&mdash;&#8221; J. C. arose
+&#8220;&mdash;that will be all for this evening.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Thus he dismissed the Judge, who went to his cot
+behind a partition in the courthouse, while Corrigan
+and J. C. stepped outside and walked slowly toward
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+the private car. They lingered at the steps, and presently
+J. C. called and a negro came out with two chairs.
+J. C. and Corrigan draped themselves in the chairs
+and smoked. Dusk was settling over Manti; lights
+appeared in the windows of the buildings; a medley of
+noises reached the ears of the two men. By day Manti
+was lively enough, by night it was a maelstrom of
+frenzied action. A hundred cow-ponies were hitched
+to rails that skirted the street in front of store and
+saloon; cowboys from ranches, distant and near, rollicked
+from building to building, touching elbows with
+men less picturesquely garbed; the strains of crude
+music smote the flat, dead desert air; yells, shouts,
+laughter filtered through the bedlam; an engine, attached
+to a train of cars on the main track near the
+private car, wheezed steam in preparation for its eastward
+trip, soon to begin.</p>
+<p>Benham had solemn thoughts, sitting there, watching.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That crowd wouldn&#8217;t have much respect for law.
+They&#8217;re living at such a pitch that they&#8217;d lose their
+senses entirely if any sudden crisis should arise. I&#8217;d
+feel my way carefully, Corrigan&mdash;if I were you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan laughed deeply. &#8220;Don&#8217;t lose any sleep over
+it. There are fifty deputy marshals in that crowd&mdash;and
+they&#8217;re heeled. The rear room in the bank building
+is a young arsenal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Benham started. &#8220;How on earth&mdash;&#8221; he began.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Law and order,&#8221; smiled Corrigan. &#8220;A telegram
+did it. The territory wants a reputation for safety.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By the way,&#8221; said Benham, after a silence; &#8220;I <i>had</i>
+to take that Trevison affair out of your hands. We
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+don&#8217;t want to antagonize the man. He will be valuable
+to us&mdash;later.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Carrington, the engineer I sent out here to look
+over the country before we started work, did considerable
+nosing around Trevison&#8217;s land while in the vicinity.
+He told me there were unmistakable signs of coal of a
+good quality and enormous quantity. We ought to be
+able to drive a good bargain with Trevison one of
+these days&mdash;if we handle him carefully.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan frowned and grunted. &#8220;His land is included
+in that of the Midland grant. He shall be
+treated like the others. If that is your only objection&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t,&#8221; said Benham. &#8220;I have discovered that
+&#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison is really Trevison Brandon, the disgraced
+son of Orrin Brandon, the millionaire.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The darkness hid Corrigan&#8217;s ugly pout. &#8220;How did
+you discover that?&#8221; he said, coolly, after a little.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My daughter mentioned it in one of her letters to
+me. I confirmed, by quizzing Brandon, senior. Brandon
+is powerful and obstinate. If he should discover
+what our game is he would fight us to the last ditch.
+The whole thing would go to smash, perhaps.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You didn&#8217;t tell him about his son being out here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That it&#8217;s my land; that I&#8217;m going to take it away
+from Trevison, father or no father. I&#8217;m going to
+break him. That&#8217;s what I mean!&#8221; Corrigan&#8217;s big
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+hands were clenched on the arms of his chair; his eyes
+gleamed balefully in the semi-darkness. J. C. felt a
+tremor of awed admiration for him. He laughed, nervously.
+&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said, &#8220;if you think you can handle
+it&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>They sat there for a long time, smoking in silence.
+One thought dominated Corrigan&#8217;s mind: &#8220;Three
+weeks, and exchanging confidences&mdash;damn him!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>A discordant note floated out of the medley of sound
+in palpitating Manti, sailed over the ridiculous sky line
+and smote the ears of the two on the platform. The
+air rocked an instant later with a cheer, loud, pregnant
+with enthusiasm. And then a mass of men, close-packed,
+undulating, moved down the street toward the
+private car.</p>
+<p>Benham&#8217;s face whitened and he rose from his chair.
+&#8220;Good God!&#8221; he said; &#8220;what&#8217;s happened?&#8221; He felt
+Corrigan&#8217;s hand on his shoulder, forcing him back into
+his chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It can&#8217;t concern us,&#8221; said the big man; &#8220;wait; we&#8217;ll
+know pretty soon. Something&#8217;s broke loose.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The two men watched&mdash;Benham breathless, wide-eyed;
+Corrigan with close-set lips and out-thrust chin.
+The mass moved fast. It passed the <i>Plaza</i>, far up the
+street, receiving additions each second as men burst
+out of doors and dove to the fringe; and grew in
+front as other men skittered into it, hanging to its edge
+and adding to the confusion. But Corrigan noted that
+the mass had a point, like a wedge, made by three men
+who seemed to lead it. Something familiar in the stature
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+and carriage of one of the men struck Corrigan,
+and he strained his eyes into the darkness the better
+to see. He could be sure of the identity of the man,
+presently, and he set his jaws tighter and continued
+to watch, with bitter malignance in his gaze, for the
+man was Trevison. There was no mistaking the broad
+shoulders, the set of the head, the big, bold and confident
+poise of the man. At the point of the wedge he
+looked what he was&mdash;the leader; he dominated the
+crowd; it became plain to Corrigan as the mass moved
+closer that he was intent on something that had aroused
+the enthusiasm of his followers, for there were shouts
+of: &#8220;That&#8217;s the stuff! Give it to them! Run &#8217;em out!&#8221;</p>
+<p>For an instant as the crowd passed the <i>Elk</i> saloon,
+its lights revealing faces in its glare, Corrigan thought
+its destination was the private car, and his hand went
+to his hip. It was withdrawn an instant later, though,
+when the leader swerved and marched toward the train
+on the main track. In the light also, Corrigan saw
+something that gave him a hint of the significance of it
+all. His laugh broke the tension of the moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Denver Ed and Poker Charley,&#8221; he said to
+Benham. &#8220;It&#8217;s likely they&#8217;ve been caught cheating and
+have been invited to make themselves scarce.&#8221; And he
+laughed again, with slight contempt, at Benham&#8217;s sigh
+of relief.</p>
+<p>The mass surged around the rear coach of the train.
+There was some laughter, mingled with jeers, and while
+this was at its height a man broke from the mass and
+walked rapidly toward Corrigan and Benham. It was
+Braman. Corrigan questioned him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s two professional gamblers. They&#8217;ve been
+fleecing Manti&#8217;s easy marks with great facility. Tonight
+they had Clay Levins in the back room of the <i>Belmont</i>.
+He had about a thousand dollars (the banker looked
+at Corrigan and closed an eye), and they took it away
+from him. It looked square, and Levins didn&#8217;t kick.
+Couldn&#8217;t anyway&mdash;he&#8217;s lying in the back room of the
+<i>Belmont</i> now, paralyzed. I think that somebody told
+Levins&#8217; wife about him shooting Marchmont yesterday,
+and Mrs. Levins likely sent Trevison after hubby&mdash;knowing
+hubby&#8217;s appetite for booze. Levins isn&#8217;t
+giving the woman a square deal, so far as that is concerned,&#8221;
+went on the banker; &#8220;she and the kids are in
+want half the time, and I&#8217;ve heard that Trevison&#8217;s
+helped them out on quite a good many occasions. Anyway,
+Trevison appeared in town this afternoon, looking
+for Levins. Before he found him he heard these
+two beauties framing up on him. That&#8217;s the result&mdash;the
+two beauties go out. The crowd was for stringing
+them up, but Trevison wouldn&#8217;t have it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Marchmont?&#8221; interrupted Benham. &#8220;It isn&#8217;t possible&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not?&#8221; grinned Corrigan. &#8220;Yes, sir, the former
+president of the Midland Company was shot to
+death yesterday for pocket-picking.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord!&#8221; said Benham.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So Levins&#8217; wife sent Trevison for hubby,&#8221; said
+Corrigan, quietly. &#8220;She&#8217;s <i>that</i> thick with Trevison, is
+she?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get that out of your mind, Jeff,&#8221; returned the
+banker, noting Corrigan&#8217;s tone. &#8220;Everybody that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+knows of the case will tell you that everything&#8217;s straight
+there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; Corrigan laughed, &#8220;I&#8217;m glad to hear it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The train steamed away as they talked, and the crowd
+began to break up and scatter toward the saloons.
+Before that happened, however, there was a great jam
+around Trevison; he was shaking hands right and left.
+Voices shouted that he was &#8220;all there!&#8221; As he started
+away he was forced to shove his way through the press
+around him.</p>
+<p>Benham had been watching closely this evidence of
+Trevison&#8217;s popularity; he linked it with some words that
+his daughter had written to him regarding the man,
+and as a thought formed in his mind he spoke it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d reconsider about hooking up with that man
+Trevison, Corrigan. He&#8217;s one of those fellows that
+win popularity easily, and it won&#8217;t do you any good to
+antagonize him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right,&#8221; laughed Corrigan, coldly.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XI_FOR_THE__KIDDIES' id='XI_FOR_THE__KIDDIES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<h3>FOR THE &#8220;KIDDIES&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Trevison dropped from Nigger at the dooryard
+of Levins&#8217; cabin, and looked with a grim smile at
+Levins himself lying face downward across the saddle
+on his own pony. He had carried Levins out of the
+<i>Belmont</i> and had thrown him, as he would have thrown
+a sack of meal, across the saddle, where he had lain
+during the four-mile ride, except during two short intervals
+in which Trevison had lifted him off and laid him
+flat on the ground, to rest. Trevison had meditated,
+not without a certain wry humor, upon the strength and
+the protracted potency of Manti&#8217;s whiskey, for not once
+during his home-coming had Levins shown the slightest
+sign of returning consciousness. He was as slack
+as a meal sack now, as Trevison lifted him from the
+pony&#8217;s back and let him slip gently to the ground at his
+feet. A few minutes later, Trevison was standing in
+the doorway of the cabin, his burden over his shoulder,
+the weak glare of light from within the cabin stabbing
+the blackness of the night and revealing him to the
+white-faced woman who had answered his summons.</p>
+<p>Her astonishment had been of the mute, agonized
+kind; her eyes, hollow, eloquent with unspoken misery
+and resignation, would have told Trevison that this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+was not the first time, had he not known from personal
+observation. She stood watching, gulping, shame and
+mortification bringing patches of color into her cheeks,
+as Trevison carried Levins into a bedroom and laid
+him down, removing his boots. She was standing near
+the door when Trevison came out of the bedroom; she
+was facing the blackness of the desert night&mdash;a blacker
+future, unknowingly&mdash;and Trevison halted on the
+threshold of the bedroom door and set his teeth in sympathy.
+For the woman deserved better treatment. He
+had known her for several years&mdash;since the time when
+Levins, working for him, had brought her from a ranch
+on the other side of the Divide, announcing their marriage.
+It had been a different Levins, then, as it was a
+different wife who stood at the door now. She had
+faded; the inevitable metamorphosis wrought by neglect,
+worry and want, had left its husks&mdash;a wan, tired-looking
+woman of thirty who had only her hopes to
+nourish her soul. There were children, too&mdash;if that
+were any consolation. Trevison saw them as he glanced
+around the cabin. They were in another bed; through
+an archway he could see their chubby faces. His lungs
+filled and his lips straightened.</p>
+<p>But he grinned presently, in an effort to bring cheer
+into the cabin, reaching into a pocket and bringing out
+the money he had recovered for Levins.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are nearly a thousand dollars here. Two
+tin-horn gamblers tried to take it from Clay, but I
+headed them off. Tell Clay&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Levins&#8217; face whitened; it was more money than
+she had ever seen at one time.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Clay&#8217;s?&#8221; she interrupted, perplexedly. &#8220;Why,
+where&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I haven&#8217;t the slightest idea&mdash;but he had it, they
+tried to take it away from him&mdash;it&#8217;s here now&mdash;it
+belongs to you.&#8221; He shoved it into her hands and
+stepped back, smiling at the stark wonder and joy in
+her eyes. He saw the joy vanish&mdash;concern and haunting
+worry came into her eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They told me that Clay shot&mdash;killed&mdash;a man yesterday.
+Is it true?&#8221; She cast a fearing look at the
+bed where the children lay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The damned fools!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then it&#8217;s true!&#8221; She covered her face with her
+hands, the money in them. Then she took the hands
+away and looked at the money in them, loathingly. &#8220;Do
+you think Clay&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; he said shortly, anticipating. &#8220;That couldn&#8217;t
+be. For the man Clay killed had this money on him.
+Clay accused him of picking his pocket. Clay gave
+the bartender in the <i>Plaza</i> the number of each bill
+before he saw them after taking the bills out of the
+pickpocket&#8217;s clothing. So it can&#8217;t be as you feared.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She murmured incoherently and pressed both hands
+to her breast. He laughed and walked to the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you need it, you and the kiddies. I&#8217;m glad
+to have been of some service to you. Tell Clay he
+owes me something for cartage. If there is anything
+I can do for you and Clay and the kiddies I&#8217;d be only
+too glad.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing&mdash;now,&#8221; said the woman, gratitude shining
+from her eyes, mingling with a worried gleam.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+&#8220;Oh!&#8221; she added, passionately; &#8220;if Clay was only different!
+Can&#8217;t you help him to be strong, Mr. Trevison?
+Like you? Can&#8217;t you be with him more, to try
+to keep him straight for the sake of the children?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clay&#8217;s odd, lately,&#8221; Trevison frowned. &#8220;He seems
+to have changed a lot. I&#8217;ll do what I can, of course.&#8221;
+He stepped out of the door and then looked back,
+calling: &#8220;I&#8217;ll put Clay&#8217;s pony away. Good night.&#8221;
+And the darkness closed around him.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Over at Blakeley&#8217;s ranch, J. C. Benham had just
+finished an inspection of the interior and had sank into
+the depths of a comfortable chair facing his daughter.
+Blakeley and his wife had retired, the deal that
+would place the ranch in possession of Benham having
+been closed. J. C. gazed critically at his daughter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Like it here, eh?&#8221; he said. &#8220;Well, you look it.&#8221;
+He shook a finger at her. &#8220;Agatha has been writing
+to me rather often, lately,&#8221; he added. There followed
+no answer and J. C. went on, narrowing his eyes at
+the girl. &#8220;She tells me that this fellow who calls himself
+&#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison has proven himself a&mdash;shall we
+say, persistent?&mdash;escort on your trips of inspection
+around the ranch.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind&#8217;s face slowly crimsoned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;H&#8217;m,&#8221; said Benham.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought Corrigan&mdash;&#8221; he began. The girl&#8217;s eyes
+chilled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;H&#8217;m,&#8221; said Benham, again.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XII_EXPOSED_TO_THE_SUNLIGHT' id='XII_EXPOSED_TO_THE_SUNLIGHT'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<h3>EXPOSED TO THE SUNLIGHT</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was a month before Trevison went to town,
+again. Only once during that time did he see Rosalind
+Benham, for the Blakeleys had vacated, and goods
+and servants had arrived from the East and needed attention.
+Rosalind presided at the Bar B ranchhouse, under
+Agatha&#8217;s chaperonage, and she had invited Trevison
+to visit her whenever the mood struck him. He had
+been in the mood many times, but had found no opportunity,
+for the various activities of range work claimed
+his attention. After a critical survey of Manti and
+vicinity, J. C. had climbed aboard his private car to
+be whisked to New York, where he reported to his
+Board of Directors that Manti would one day be one
+of the greatest commercial centers of the West.</p>
+<p>Vague rumors of a legal tangle involving the land
+around Manti had reached Trevison&#8217;s ears, and this
+morning he had jumped on Nigger, determined to run
+the rumors down. He made a wide swing, following
+the river, which took him miles from his own property
+and into the enormous basin which one day the engineers
+expected to convert into a mammoth lake from
+which the thirst of many dry acres of land was to be
+slaked; and halting Nigger near the mouth of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+gorge, watched the many laborers, directed by various
+grades of bosses, at work building the foundation of
+the dam. Later, he crossed the basin, followed the
+well-beaten trail up the slope to the level, and shortly
+he was in Hanrahan&#8217;s saloon across the street from
+Braman&#8217;s bank, listening to the plaint of Jim Lefingwell,
+the Circle Cross owner, whose ranch was east of
+town. Lefingwell was big, florid, and afflicted with perturbation
+that was almost painful. So exercised was he
+that he was at times almost incoherent.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s boomin&#8217;, ain&#8217;t she? Meanin&#8217; this man&#8217;s town,
+of course. An&#8217; a man&#8217;s got a right to cash in on a
+boom whenever he gits the chance. Well, I&#8217;d figgered
+to cash in. I ain&#8217;t no hawg an&#8217; I got savvy enough to
+perceive without the aid of any damn fortune-teller
+that cattle is done in this country&mdash;considered as the
+main question. I&#8217;ve got a thousand acres of land&mdash;which
+I paid for in spot cash to Dick Kessler about
+eight years ago. If Dick was here he&#8217;d back me up in
+that. But he ain&#8217;t here&mdash;the doggone fool went an&#8217;
+died about four years ago, leavin&#8217; me unprotected. Well,
+now, not digressin&#8217; any, I gits the idea that I&#8217;m goin&#8217;
+to unload consid&#8217;able of my thousand acres on the sufferin&#8217;
+fools that&#8217;s yearnin&#8217; to come into this country an&#8217;
+work their heads off raisin&#8217; alfalfa an&#8217; hawgs, an&#8217; cabbages
+an&#8217; sons with Pick-a-dilly collars to be eddicated
+East an&#8217; come back home some day an&#8217; lift the mortgage
+from the old homestead&mdash;which job they always
+falls down on&mdash;findin&#8217; it more to their likin&#8217; to mortgage
+their souls to buy jew&#8217;l&#8217;ry for fast wimmin. Well,
+not digressin&#8217; any, I run a-foul of a guy last week which
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
+was dead set on investin&#8217; in ten acres of my land,
+skirtin&#8217; one of the irrigation ditches which they&#8217;re figgerin&#8217;
+on puttin&#8217; in. The price I wanted was a heap
+satisfyin&#8217; to the guy. But he suggests that before he
+forks over the coin we go down to the courthouse an&#8217;
+muss up the records to see if my title is clear. Well,
+not digressin&#8217; any, she ain&#8217;t! She ain&#8217;t even nowheres
+clear a-tall&mdash;she ain&#8217;t even there! She&#8217;s wiped off,
+slick an&#8217; clean! There ain&#8217;t a damned line to show
+that I ever bought my land from Dick Kessler, an&#8217; there
+ain&#8217;t nothin&#8217; on no record to show that Dick Kessler
+ever owned it! What in hell do you think of that?</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, not digressin&#8217; any,&#8221; he went on as Trevison
+essayed to speak; &#8220;that ain&#8217;t the worst of it. While
+I was in there, talkin&#8217; to Judge Lindman, this here big
+guy that you fit with&mdash;Corrigan&mdash;comes in. I gathers
+from the trend of his remarks that I never had a legal
+title to my land&mdash;that it belongs to the guy which
+bought it from the Midland Company&mdash;which is him.
+Now what in hell do you think of that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew Dick Kessler,&#8221; said Trevison, soberly. &#8220;He
+was honest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Square as a dollar!&#8221; violently affirmed Lefingwell.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s too bad,&#8221; sympathized Trevison. &#8220;That
+places you in a mighty bad fix. If there&#8217;s anything I
+can do for you, why&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. &#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison?&#8221; said a voice at Trevison&#8217;s
+elbow. Trevison turned, to see a short, heavily built
+man smiling mildly at him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m a deputy from Judge Lindman&#8217;s court,&#8221; announced
+the man. &#8220;I&#8217;ve got a summons for you. Saw
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+you coming in here&mdash;saves me a trip to your place.&#8221;
+He shoved a paper into Trevison&#8217;s hands, grinned, and
+went out. For an instant Trevison stood, looking after
+the man, wondering how, since the man was a stranger
+to him, he had recognized him&mdash;and then he opened
+the paper to discover that he was ordered to appear
+before Judge Lindman the following day to show cause
+why he should not be evicted from certain described
+property held unlawfully by him. The name, Jefferson
+Corrigan, appeared as plaintiff in the action.</p>
+<p>Lefingwell was watching Trevison&#8217;s face closely, and
+when he saw it whiten, he muttered, understandingly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got it, too, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221; Trevison shoved the paper into a pocket.
+&#8220;Looks like you&#8217;re not going to be skinned alone, Lefingwell.
+Well, so-long; I&#8217;ll see you later.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He strode out, leaving Lefingwell slightly stunned
+over his abrupt leave-taking. A minute later he was
+in the squatty frame courthouse, towering above Judge
+Lindman, who had been seated at his desk and who
+had risen at his entrance.</p>
+<p>Trevison shoved the summons under Lindman&#8217;s nose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I just got this,&#8221; he said. &#8220;What does it mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is perfectly understandable,&#8221; the Judge smiled
+with forced affability. &#8220;The plaintiff, Mr. Jefferson
+Corrigan, is a claimant to the title of the land now
+held by you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan can have no claim on my land; I bought
+it five years ago from old Buck Peters. He got it from
+a man named Taylor. Corrigan is bluffing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge coughed and dropped his gaze from the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+belligerent eyes of the young man. &#8220;That will be determined
+in court,&#8221; he said. &#8220;The entire land transactions
+in this county, covering a period of twenty-five
+years, are recorded in that book.&#8221; And the Judge indicated
+a ledger on his desk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take a look at it.&#8221; Trevison reached for the
+ledger, seized it, the Judge protesting, half-heartedly,
+though with the judicial dignity that had become habitual
+from long service in his profession.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is a high-handed proceeding, young man. You
+are in contempt of court!&#8221; The Judge tried, but could
+not make his voice ring sincerely. It seemed to him
+that this vigorous, clear-eyed young man could see the
+guilt that he was trying to hide.</p>
+<p>Trevison laughed grimly, holding the Judge off with
+one hand while he searched the pages of the book,
+leaning over the desk. He presently closed the book
+with a bang and faced the Judge, breathing heavily,
+his muscles rigid, his eyes cold and glittering.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s trickery here!&#8221; He took the ledger up
+and slammed it down on the desk again, his voice vibrating.
+&#8220;Judge Lindman, this isn&#8217;t a true record&mdash;it is
+not the original record! I saw the original record five
+years ago, when I went personally to Dry Bottom
+with Buck Peters to have my deed recorded! This
+record is a fake&mdash;it has been substituted for the original!
+I demand that you stay proceedings in this matter
+until a search can be made for the original record!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is the original record.&#8221; Again the Judge tried
+to make his voice ring sincerely, and again he failed.
+His one mistake had not hardened him and judicial dignity
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+could not help him to conceal his guilty knowledge.
+He winced as he felt Trevison&#8217;s burning gaze on him,
+and could not meet the young man&#8217;s eyes, boring like
+metal points into his consciousness. Trevison sprang
+forward and seized him by the shoulders.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By God&mdash;you know it isn&#8217;t the original!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge succeeded in meeting Trevison&#8217;s eyes,
+but his age, his vacillating will, his guilt, could not
+combat the overpowering force and virility of this volcanic
+youth, and his gaze shifted and fell.</p>
+<p>He heard Trevison catch his breath&mdash;shrilling it
+into his lungs in one great sob&mdash;and then he stood,
+white and shaking, beside the desk, looking at Trevison
+as the young man went out of the door&mdash;a laugh
+on his lips, mirthless, bitter, portending trouble and
+violence.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Corrigan was sitting at his desk in the bank building
+when Trevison entered the front door. The big man
+seemed to have been expecting his visitor, for just
+before the latter appeared at the door Corrigan took
+a pistol from a pocket and laid it on the desk beside
+him, placing a sheet of paper over it. He swung slowly
+around and faced Trevison, cold interest in his gaze.
+He nodded shortly as Trevison&#8217;s eyes met his.</p>
+<p>In a dozen long strides Trevison was at his side.
+The young man was pale, his lips were set, he was
+breathing fast, his nostrils were dilated&mdash;he was at
+that pitch of excitement in which a word, a look or a
+movement brings on action, instantaneous, unrecking of
+consequences. But he exercised repression that made
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span>
+the atmosphere of the room tingle with tension of the
+sort that precedes the clash of mighty forces&mdash;he
+deliberately sat on one corner of Corrigan&#8217;s desk, one
+leg dangling, the other resting on the floor, one hand
+resting on the idle leg, his body bent, his shoulders
+drooping a little forward. His voice was dry and
+light&mdash;Patrick Carson would have said his grin was
+tiger-like.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So that&#8217;s the kind of a whelp you are!&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Corrigan caught his breath; his hands clenched, his
+face reddened darkly. He shot a quick glance at the
+sheet of paper under which he had placed the pistol.
+Trevison interpreted it, brushed the paper aside, disclosing
+the weapon. His lips curled; he took the
+pistol, &#8220;broke&#8221; it, tossed cartridges and weapon into
+a corner of the desk and laughed lowly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;So you were expecting me,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Well, I&#8217;m
+here. You want my land, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want the land that I&#8217;m entitled to under the terms
+of my purchase&mdash;the original Midland grant, consisting
+of one-hundred thousand acres. It belongs to me,
+and I mean to have it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re a liar, Corrigan,&#8221; said the young man, holding
+the other&#8217;s gaze coldly; &#8220;you&#8217;re a lying, sneaking
+crook. You have no claim to the land, and you know
+it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan smiled stiffly. &#8220;The record of the deal I
+made with Jim Marchmont years before any of you
+people usurped the property is in my pocket at this
+minute. The court, here, will uphold it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison narrowed his eyes at the big man and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
+laughed, bitter humor in the sound. It was as though
+he had laughed to keep his rage from leaping, naked
+and murderous, into this discussion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It takes nerve, Corrigan, to do what you are
+attempting; it does, by Heaven&mdash;sheer, brazen gall!
+It&#8217;s been done, though, by little, pettifogging shysters,
+by piking real-estate crooks&mdash;thousands of parcels of
+property scattered all over the United States have been
+filched in that manner. But a hundred-thousand acres!
+It&#8217;s the biggest steal that ever has been attempted, to
+my knowledge, short of a Government grab, and your
+imagination does you credit. It&#8217;s easy to see what&#8217;s
+been done. You&#8217;ve got a fake title from Marchmont,
+antedating ours; you&#8217;ve got a crooked judge here, to
+befuddle the thing with legal technicalities; you&#8217;ve got
+the money, the power, the greed, and the cold-blooded
+determination. But I don&#8217;t think you understand what
+you&#8217;re up against&mdash;do you? Nearly every man who
+owns this land that you want has worked hard for it.
+It&#8217;s been bought with work, man&mdash;work and lonesomeness
+and blood&mdash;and souls. And now you want to
+sweep it all away with one stroke. You want to step
+in here and reap the benefit; you want to send us out
+of here, beggars.&#8221; His voice leaped from its repression;
+it now betrayed the passion that was consuming
+him; it came through his teeth: &#8220;You can&#8217;t hand me
+that sort of a raw deal, Corrigan, and make me like
+it. Understand that, right now. You&#8217;re bucking the
+wrong man. You can drag the courts into it; you can
+wriggle around a thousand legal corners, but damn you,
+you can&#8217;t avert what&#8217;s bound to come if you don&#8217;t lay
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+off this deal, and that&#8217;s a fight!&#8221; He laughed, full-throated,
+his voice vibrating from the strength of the
+passion that blazed in his eyes. He revealed, for an
+instant to Corrigan the wild, reckless untamed youth
+that knew no law save his own impulses, and the big
+man&#8217;s eyes widened with the revelation, though he gave
+no other sign. He leaned back in his chair, smiling
+coldly, idly flecking a bit of ash from his shirt where
+it had fallen from his cigar.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am prepared for a fight. You&#8217;ll get plenty of
+it before you&#8217;re through&mdash;if you don&#8217;t lie down and
+be good.&#8221; There was malice in his look, complacent
+consciousness of his power. More, there was an impulse
+to reveal to this young man whom he intended
+to ruin, at least one of the motives that was driving
+him. He yielded to the impulse.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m going to tell you something. I think I would
+have let you out of this deal, if you hadn&#8217;t been so
+fresh. But you made a grand-stand play before the
+girl I am going to marry. You showed off your horse
+to make a bid for her favor. You paraded before her
+window in the car to attract her attention. I saw you.
+You rode me down. You&#8217;ll get no mercy. I&#8217;m going
+to break you. I&#8217;m going to send you back to your
+father, Brandon, senior, in worse condition than when
+you left, ten years ago.&#8221; He sneered as Trevison
+started and stepped on the floor, rigid.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How did you recognize me?&#8221; Curiosity had dulled
+the young man&#8217;s passion; his tone was hoarse.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How?&#8221; Corrigan laughed, mockingly. &#8220;Did you
+think you could repose any confidence in a woman you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
+have known only about a month? Did you think she
+wouldn&#8217;t tell me&mdash;her promised husband? She has
+told me&mdash;everything that she succeeded in getting out
+of you. She is heart and soul with me in this deal. She
+is ambitious. Do you think she would hesitate to sacrifice
+a clod-hopper like you? She&#8217;s very clever, Trevison;
+she&#8217;s deep, and more than a match for you in
+wits. Fight, if you like, you&#8217;ll get no sympathy there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s faith in Miss Benham had received a
+shock; Corrigan&#8217;s words had not killed it, however.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re a liar!&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Corrigan flushed, but smiled icily. &#8220;How many people
+know that you have coal on your land, Trevison?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He saw Trevison&#8217;s hands clench, and he laughed in
+grim amusement. It pleased him to see his enemy
+writhe and squirm before him; the grimness came
+because of a mental picture, in his mind at this minute,
+of Trevison confiding in the girl. He looked up,
+the smile freezing on his lips, for within a foot of his
+chest was the muzzle of Trevison&#8217;s pistol. He saw
+the trigger finger contracting; saw Trevison&#8217;s free hand
+clenched, the muscles corded and knotted&mdash;he felt the
+breathless, strained, unreal calm that precedes tragedy,
+grim and swift. He slowly stiffened, but did not shrink
+an inch. It took him seconds to raise his gaze to Trevison&#8217;s
+face, and then he caught his breath quickly and
+smiled with straight lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; you won&#8217;t do it, Trevison,&#8221; he said, slowly;
+&#8220;you&#8217;re not that kind.&#8221; He deliberately swung around
+in the chair and drew another cigar from a box on the
+desk top, lit it and leaned back, again facing the pistol.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p>
+<p>Trevison restored the pistol to the holster, brushing
+a hand uncertainly over his eyes as though to clear his
+mental vision, for the shock that had come with the
+revelation of Miss Benham&#8217;s duplicity had made his
+brain reel with a lust to kill. He laughed hollowly.
+His voice came cold and hard:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re right&mdash;it wouldn&#8217;t do. It would be plain
+murder, and I&#8217;m not quite up to that. You know your
+men, don&#8217;t you&mdash;you coyote&#8217;s whelp! You know I&#8217;ll
+fight fair. You&#8217;ll do yours underhandedly. Get up!
+There&#8217;s your gun! Load it! Let&#8217;s see if you&#8217;ve got
+the nerve to face a gun, with one in your own hand!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll do my fighting in my own way.&#8221; Corrigan&#8217;s
+eyes kindled, but he did not move. Trevison made a
+gesture of contempt, and wheeled, to go. As he turned
+he caught a glimpse of a hand holding a pistol, as it
+vanished into a narrow crevice between a jamb and
+the door that led to the rear room. He drew his own
+weapon with a single movement, and swung around to
+Corrigan, his muscles tensed, his eyes alert and chill
+with menace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll bore you if you wink an eyelash!&#8221; he warned,
+in a whisper.</p>
+<p>He leaped, with the words, to the door, lunging
+against it, sending it crashing back so that it smashed
+against the wall, overbalancing some boxes that reposed
+on a shelf and sending them clattering. He stood in
+the opening, braced for another leap, tall, big, his muscles
+swelling and rippling, recklessly eager. Against
+the partition, which was still swaying, his arms outstretched,
+a pistol in one hand, trying to crowd still
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+farther back to escape the searching glance of Trevison&#8217;s
+eyes, was Braman.</p>
+<p>He had overheard Trevison&#8217;s tense whisper to Corrigan.
+The cold savagery in it had paralyzed him, and
+he gasped as Trevison&#8217;s eyes found him, and the pistol
+that he tried to raise dangled futilely from his nerveless
+fingers. It thudded heavily upon the boards of
+the floor an instant later, a shriek of fear mingling
+with the sound as he went down in a heap from a vicious,
+deadening blow from Trevison&#8217;s fist.</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s leap upon Braman had been swift; he was
+back in the doorway instantly, looking at Corrigan, his
+eyes ablaze with rage, wild, reckless, bitter. He
+laughed&mdash;the sound of it brought a grayish pallor to
+Corrigan&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That explains your nerve!&#8221; he taunted. &#8220;It&#8217;s a
+frame-up. You sent the deputy after me&mdash;pointed me
+out when I went into Hanrahan&#8217;s! That&#8217;s how he knew
+me! You knew I&#8217;d come in here to have it out with
+you, and you figured to have Braman shoot me when
+my back was turned! Ha, ha!&#8221; He swung his pistol
+on Corrigan; the big man gripped the arms of his chair
+and sat rigid, staring, motionless. For an instant there
+was no sound. And then Trevison laughed again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bah!&#8221; he said; &#8220;I can&#8217;t use your methods! You&#8217;re
+safe so long as you don&#8217;t move.&#8221; He laughed again
+as he looked down at the banker. Reaching down, he
+grasped the inert man by the scruff of the neck and
+dragged him through the door, out into the banking
+room, past Corrigan, who watched him wonderingly
+and to the front, there he dropped him and turning,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
+answered the question that he saw shining in Corrigan&#8217;s
+eyes:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t work in the dark! We&#8217;ll take this case out
+into the sunlight, so the whole town can have a look
+at it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stooped swiftly, grasped Braman around the
+middle, swung him aloft and hurled him through the
+window, into the street, the glass, shattered, clashing
+and jangling around him. He turned to Corrigan,
+laughing lowly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get up. Manti will want to know. I&#8217;m going to
+do the talking!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He forced Corrigan to the front door, and stood
+on the threshold behind him, silent, watching.</p>
+<p>A hundred doorways were vomiting men. The crash
+of glass had carried far, and visions of a bank robbery
+filled many brains as their owners raced toward
+the doorway where Trevison stood, the muzzle of his
+pistol jammed firmly against Corrigan&#8217;s back.</p>
+<p>The crowd gathered, in the manner peculiar to such
+scenes, coming from all directions and converging at
+one point, massing densely in front of the bank building,
+surrounding the fallen banker, pushing, jostling,
+straining, craning necks for better views, eager-voiced,
+curious.</p>
+<p>No one touched Braman. On the contrary, there
+were many in the front fringe that braced their bodies
+against the crush, shoving backward, crying that a
+man was hurt and needed breathing space. They were
+unheeded, and when the banker presently recovered consciousness
+he was lifted to his feet and stood, pressed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
+close to the building, swaying dizzily, pale, weak and
+shaken.</p>
+<p>Word had gone through the crowd that it was not
+a robbery, for there were many there who knew Trevison;
+they shouted greetings to him, and he answered
+them, standing back of Corrigan, grim and somber.</p>
+<p>Foremost in the crowd was Mullarky, who on
+another day had seen a fight at this same spot. He had
+taken a stand directly in front of the door of the bank,
+and had been using his eyes and his wits rapidly since
+his coming. And when two or three men from the
+crowd edged forward and tried to push their way to
+Corrigan, Mullarky drew a pistol, leaped to the door
+landing beside Trevison and trained his weapon, on
+them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stand back, or I&#8217;ll plug you, sure as I&#8217;m a foot
+high! There&#8217;s hell to pay here, an&#8217; me friend gets a
+square deal&mdash;whatever he&#8217;s done!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Right!&#8221; came other voices from various points in
+the crowd; &#8220;a square deal&mdash;no interference!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Judge Lindman came out into the street, urged by
+curiosity. He had stepped down from the doorway of
+the courthouse and had instantly been carried with the
+crowd to a point directly in front of Corrigan and
+Trevison, where he stood, bare-headed, pale, watching
+silently. Corrigan saw him, and smiled faintly at him.
+The easterner&#8217;s eye sought out several faces in the
+crowd near him, and when he finally caught the gaze
+of a certain individual who had been eyeing him inquiringly
+for some moments, he slowly closed an eye and
+moved his head slightly toward the rear of the building.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
+Instantly the man whistled shrilly with his fingers,
+as though to summon someone far down the street,
+and slipping around the edge of the crowd made his
+way around to the rear of the bank building, where he
+was joined presently by other men, roughly garbed, who
+carried pistols. One of them climbed in through a
+window, opened the door, and the others&mdash;numbering
+now twenty-five or thirty, dove into the room.</p>
+<p>Out in front a silence had fallen. Trevison had lifted
+a hand and the crowd strained its ears to hear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve caught a crook!&#8221; declared Trevison, the frenzy
+of fight still surging through his veins. &#8220;He&#8217;s not a
+cheap crook&mdash;I give him credit for that. All he wants
+to do is to steal the whole county. He&#8217;ll do it, too,
+if we don&#8217;t head him off. I&#8217;ll tell you more about him
+in a minute. There&#8217;s another of his stripe.&#8221; He
+pointed to Braman, who cringed. &#8220;I threw him out
+through the window, where the sunlight could shine
+on him. He tried to shoot me in the back&mdash;the big
+crook here, framed up on me. I want you all to
+know what you&#8217;re up against. They&#8217;re after all the
+land in this section; they&#8217;ve clouded every title. It&#8217;s
+a raw, dirty deal. I see now, why they haven&#8217;t sold a
+foot of the land they own here; why they&#8217;ve shoved the
+cost of leases up until it&#8217;s ruination to pay them. They&#8217;re
+land thieves, commercial pirates. They&#8217;re going to
+euchre everybody out of&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison caught a gasp from the crowd&mdash;concerted,
+sudden. He saw the mass sway in unison, stiffen, stand
+rigid; and he turned his head quickly, to see the door
+behind him, and the broken window through which he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span>
+had thrown Braman&mdash;the break running the entire
+width of the building&mdash;filled with men armed with
+rifles.</p>
+<p>He divined the situation, sensed his danger&mdash;the
+danger that faced the crowd should one of its members
+make a hostile movement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Steady there, boys!&#8221; he shouted. &#8220;Don&#8217;t start
+anything. These men are here through prearrangement&mdash;it&#8217;s
+another frame-up. Keep your guns out
+of sight!&#8221; He turned, to see Corrigan grinning contemptuously
+at him. He met the look with naked exultation
+and triumph.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Got your body-guard within call, eh?&#8221; he jeered.
+&#8220;You need one. You&#8217;ve cut me short, all right; but
+I&#8217;ve said enough to start a fire that will rage through
+this part of the country until every damned thief is
+burned out! You&#8217;ve selected the wrong man for a victim,
+Corrigan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stepped down into the street, sheathing his pistol.
+He heard Corrigan&#8217;s voice, calling after him,
+saying:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Grand-stand play again!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison turned; the gaze of the two men met, held,
+their hatred glowing bitter in their eyes; the gaze
+broke, like two sharp blades rasping apart, and Corrigan
+turned to his deputies, scowling; while Trevison
+pushed his way through the crowd.</p>
+<p>Five minutes later, while Corrigan was talking with
+the deputies and Braman in the rear room of the bank
+building, Trevison was standing in the courthouse talking
+with Judge Lindman. The Judge stared out into
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+the street at some members of the crowd that still
+lingered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This town will be a volcano of lawlessness if it
+doesn&#8217;t get a square deal from you, Lindman,&#8221; said
+Trevison. &#8220;You have seen what a mob looks like.
+You&#8217;re the representative of justice here, and if we
+don&#8217;t get justice we&#8217;ll come and hang you in spite of
+a thousand deputies! Remember that!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stalked out, leaving behind him a white-faced,
+trembling old man who was facing a crisis which made
+the future look very black and dismal. He was wondering
+if, after all, hanging wouldn&#8217;t be better than
+the sunlight shining on a deed which each day he
+regretted more than on the preceding day. And Trevison,
+riding Nigger out of town, was estimating the probable
+effect of his crowd-drawing action upon Judge
+Lindman, and considering bitterly the perfidy of the
+woman who had cleverly drawn him on, to betray him.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIII_ANOTHER_LETTER' id='XIII_ANOTHER_LETTER'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<h3>ANOTHER LETTER</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>That afternoon, Corrigan rode to the Bar B. The
+ranchhouse was of the better class, big, imposing,
+well-kept, with a wide, roofed porch running across
+the front and partly around both sides. It stood in a
+grove of fir-balsam and cottonwood, on a slight eminence,
+and could be seen for miles from the undulating
+trail that led to Manti. Corrigan arrived shortly after
+noon, to find Rosalind gone, for a ride, Agatha told
+him, after she had greeted him at the edge of the
+porch.</p>
+<p>Agatha had not been pleased over Rosalind&#8217;s rides
+with Trevison as a companion. She was loyal to her
+brother, and she did not admire the bold recklessness
+that shone so frankly and unmistakably in Trevison&#8217;s
+eyes. Had she been Rosalind she would have preferred
+the big, sleek, well-groomed man of affairs who had
+called today. And because of her preference for Corrigan,
+she sat long on the porch with him and told
+him many things&mdash;things that darkened the big man&#8217;s
+face. And when, as they were talking, Rosalind came,
+Agatha discreetly retired, leaving the two alone.</p>
+<p>For a time after the coming of Rosalind, Corrigan
+sat in a big rocking chair, looking thoughtfully down
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+the Manti trail, listening to the girl talk of the country,
+picturing her on a distant day&mdash;not too distant,
+either, for he meant to press his suit&mdash;sitting beside
+him on the porch of another house that he meant to
+build when he had achieved his goal. These thoughts
+thrilled him as they had never thrilled him until the
+entrance of Trevison into his scheme of things. He
+had been sure of her then. And now the knowledge
+that he had a rival, filled him with a thousand emotions,
+the most disturbing of which was jealousy. The rage
+in him was deep and malignant as he coupled the mental
+pictures of his imagination with the material record
+of Rosalind&#8217;s movements with his rival, as related by
+Agatha. It was not his way to procrastinate; he meant
+to exert every force at his command, quickly, resistlessly,
+to destroy Trevison, to blacken him and damn
+him, in the eyes of the girl who sat beside him. But
+he knew that in the girl&#8217;s presence he must be wise and
+subtle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a great country, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; he said, his eyes
+on the broad reaches of plain, green-brown in the shimmering
+sunlight. &#8220;Look at it&mdash;almost as big as some
+of the Old-world states! It&#8217;s a wonderful country.
+I feel like a feudal baron, with the destinies of an
+important principality in the clutch of my hand!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; it must give one a feeling of great responsibility
+to know that one has an important part in the
+development of a section like this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laughed, deep in his throat, at the awe in her
+voice. &#8220;I ought to have seen its possibilities years ago&mdash;I
+should have been out here, preparing for this.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+But when I bought the land I had no idea it would
+one day be so valuable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bought it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A hundred thousand acres of it. I got it very
+cheap.&#8221; He told her about the Midland grant and his
+purchase from Marchmont.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never heard of that before!&#8221; she told him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It wasn&#8217;t generally known. In fact, it was apparently
+generally considered that the land had been sold
+by the Midland Company to various people&mdash;in small
+parcels. Unscrupulous agents engineered the sales, I
+suppose. But the fact is that I made the purchase from
+the Midland Company years ago&mdash;largely as a personal
+favor to Jim Marchmont, who needed money
+badly. And a great many of the ranch-owners around
+here really have no title to their land, and will have
+to give it up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She breathed deeply. &#8220;That will be a great disappointment
+to them, now that there exists the probability
+of a great advance in the value of the land.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was the owners&#8217; lookout. A purchaser should
+see that his deed is clear before closing a deal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What owners will be affected?&#8221; She spoke with a
+slight breathlessness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Many.&#8221; He named some of them, leaving Trevison
+to the last, and then watching her furtively out
+of the corners of his eyes and noting, with straightened
+lips, the quick gasp she gave. She said nothing;
+she was thinking of the great light that had been in
+Trevison&#8217;s eyes on the day he had told her of his
+ten years of exile; she could remember his words, they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+had been vivid fixtures in her mind ever since: &#8220;I
+own five thousand acres, and about a thousand acres of
+it is the best coal land in the United States. I wouldn&#8217;t
+sell it for love or money, for when your father gets
+his railroad running, I&#8217;m going to cash in on ten of
+the leanest and hardest and lonesomest years that any
+man ever put in.&#8221;</p>
+<p>How hard it would be for him to give it all up;
+to acknowledge defeat, to feel those ten wasted years
+behind him, empty, unproductive; full of shattered
+hopes and dreams changed to nightmares! She sat,
+white of face, gripping the arms of her chair, feeling a
+great, throbbing sympathy for him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will take it all?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He will still hold one hundred and sixty acres&mdash;the
+quarter-section granted him by the government,
+which he has undoubtedly proved on.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;&#8221; she began, and paused, for to go further
+would be to inject her personal affairs into the conversation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison is an evil in the country,&#8221; he went on,
+speaking in a judicial manner, but watching her narrowly.
+&#8220;It is men like him who retard civilization. He
+opposes law and order&mdash;defies them. It is a shock,
+I know, to learn that the title to property that you
+have regarded as your own for years, is in jeopardy.
+But still, a man can play the man and not yield to lawless
+impulses.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What has happened?&#8221; She spoke breathlessly,
+for something in Corrigan&#8217;s voice warned her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very little&mdash;from Trevison&#8217;s viewpoint, I suppose,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+he laughed. &#8220;He came into my office this morning,
+after being served with a summons from Judge
+Lindman&#8217;s court in regard to the title of his land, and
+tried to kill me. Failing in that, he knocked poor, inoffensive
+little Braman down&mdash;who had interfered in
+my behalf&mdash;and threw him bodily through the front
+window of the building, glass and all. It&#8217;s lucky for
+him that Braman wasn&#8217;t hurt. After that he tried to
+incite a riot, which Judge Lindman nipped in the bud by
+sending a number of deputies, armed with rifles, to the
+scene. It was a wonderful exhibition of outlawry. I
+was very sorry to have it happen, and any more such
+outbreaks will result in Trevison&#8217;s being jailed&mdash;if not
+worse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God!&#8221; she panted, in a whisper, and became
+lost in deep thought.</p>
+<p>They sat for a time, without speaking. She studied
+the profile of the man and compared its reposeful
+strength with that of the man who had ridden with
+her many times since her coming to Blakeley&#8217;s. The
+turbulent spirit of Trevison awed her now, frightened
+her&mdash;she feared for his future. But she pitied him;
+the sympathy that gripped her made icy shivers run
+over her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;From what I understand, Trevison has always
+been a disturber,&#8221; resumed Corrigan. &#8220;He disgraced
+himself at college, and afterwards&mdash;to such an extent
+that his father cut him off. He hasn&#8217;t changed, apparently;
+he is still doing the same old tricks. He had
+some sort of a love affair before coming West, your
+father told me. God help the girl who marries him!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p>
+<p>The girl flushed at the last sentence; she replied to
+the preceding one:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Hester Keyes threw him over, after he broke
+with his father.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She did not see Corrigan&#8217;s eyes quicken, for she was
+wondering if, after all, Hester Keyes had not acted
+wisely in breaking with Trevison. Certainly, Hester had
+been in a position to know him better than some of
+those critics who had found fault with her for her
+action&mdash;herself, for instance. She sighed, for the
+memory of her ideal was dimming. A figure that represented
+violence and bloodshed had come in its place.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hester Keyes,&#8221; said Corrigan, musingly. &#8220;Did
+she marry a fellow named Harvey&mdash;afterwards?
+Winslow Harvey, if I remember rightly. He died soon
+after?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;do you know her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Slightly.&#8221; Corrigan laughed. &#8220;I knew her father.
+Well, well. So Trevison worshiped there, did he?
+Was he badly hurt&mdash;do you know?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said Corrigan, getting up, and speaking
+lightly, as though dismissing the subject from his mind;
+&#8220;I presume he was&mdash;and still is, for that matter. A
+person never forgets the first love.&#8221; He smiled at her.
+&#8220;Won&#8217;t you go with me for a short ride?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The ride was taken, but a disturbing question lingered
+in Rosalind&#8217;s mind throughout, and would not be solved.
+Had Trevison forgotten Hester Keyes? Did he think
+of her as&mdash;as&mdash;well, as she, herself, sometimes
+thought of Trevison&mdash;as she thought of him now&mdash;with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+a haunting tenderness that made his faults recede,
+as the shadows vanish before the sunshine?</p>
+<p>What Corrigan thought was expressed in a satisfied
+chuckle, as later, he loped his horse toward Manti.
+That night he wrote a letter and sent it East. It was
+addressed to Mrs. Hester Harvey, and was subscribed:
+&#8220;Your old friend, Jeff.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIV_A_RUMBLE_OF_WAR' id='XIV_A_RUMBLE_OF_WAR'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<h3>A RUMBLE OF WAR</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The train that carried Corrigan&#8217;s letter eastward
+bore, among its few other passengers, a young
+man with a jaw set like a steel trap, who leaned forward
+in his seat, gripping the back of the seat in front
+of him; an eager, smoldering light in his eyes, who rose
+at each stop the train made and glared belligerently
+and intolerantly at the coach ends, muttering guttural
+anathemas at the necessity for delays. The spirit of
+battle was personified in him; it sat on his squared
+shoulders; it was in the thrust of his chin, stuck out as
+though to receive blows, which his rippling muscles
+would be eager to return. Two other passengers in
+the coach watched him warily, and once, when he got
+up and walked to the front of the coach, opening the
+door and looking out, to let in the roar and whir and
+the clatter, one of the passengers remarked to the
+other: &#8220;That guy is in a temper where murder would
+come easy to him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The train left Manti at nine o&#8217;clock in the evening.
+At midnight it pulled up at the little frame station in
+Dry Bottom and the young man leaped off and strode
+rapidly away into the darkness of the desert town. A
+little later, J. Blackstone Graney, attorney at law, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
+former Judge of the United States District Court at
+Dry Bottom, heard a loud hammering on the door of
+his residence at the outskirts of town. He got up, with
+a grunt of resentment for all heavy-fisted fools abroad
+on midnight errands, and went downstairs to admit a
+grim-faced stranger who looked positively bloodthirsty
+to the Judge, under the nervous tension of his midnight
+awakening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m &#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison, owner of the Diamond K
+ranch, near Manti,&#8221; said the stranger, with blunt sharpness
+that made the Judge blink. &#8220;I&#8217;ve a case on in the
+Manti court at ten o&#8217;clock tomorrow&mdash;today,&#8221; he corrected.
+&#8220;They are going to try to swindle me out of
+my land, and I&#8217;ve got to have a lawyer&mdash;a real one.
+I could have got half a dozen in Manti&mdash;such as
+they are&mdash;but I want somebody who is wise in the
+law, and with the sort of honor that money and power
+can&#8217;t blast&mdash;I want you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Judge Graney looked sharply at his visitor, and
+smiled. &#8220;You are evidently desperately harried. Sit
+down and tell me about your case.&#8221; He waved to a
+chair and Trevison dropped into it, sitting on its edge.
+The Judge took another, and with the kerosene lamp
+between them on a table, Trevison related what had
+occurred during the previous morning in Manti. When
+he concluded, the Judge&#8217;s face was serious.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If what you say is true, it is a very awkward, not
+to say suspicious, situation. Being the only lawyer in
+Dry Bottom, until the coming of Judge Lindman, I
+have had occasion many times to consult the record
+you speak of, and if my memory serves me well, I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span>
+have noted several times&mdash;quite casually, of course,
+since I have never been directly concerned with the
+records of the land in your vicinity&mdash;that several transfers
+of title to the original Midland grant have been
+recorded. Your deed would show, of course, the date
+of your purchase from Buck Peters, and we shall, perhaps,
+be able to determine the authenticity of the present
+record in that manner. But if, as you believe, the
+records have been tampered with, we are facing a long,
+hard legal battle which may or may not result in an
+ultimate victory for us&mdash;depending upon the power
+behind the interests opposed to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll fight them to the Supreme Court of the United
+States!&#8221; declared Trevison. &#8220;I&#8217;ll fight them with
+the law or without it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know it,&#8221; said Graney, with a shrewd glance at
+the other&#8217;s grim face. &#8220;But be careful not to do anything
+that will jeopardize your liberty. If those men
+are what you think they are, they would be only
+too glad to have you break some law that would give
+them an excuse to jail you. You couldn&#8217;t do much fighting
+then, you know.&#8221; He got up. &#8220;There&#8217;s a train
+out of here in about an hour&mdash;we&#8217;ll take it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>About six o&#8217;clock that morning the two men stepped
+off the train at Manti. Graney went directly to a hotel,
+to wash and breakfast, while Trevison, a little tired
+and hollow-eyed from loss of sleep and excitement, and
+with a two days&#8217; growth of beard on his face, which
+made him look worse than he actually felt, sought the
+livery stable where he had left Nigger the night before,
+mounted the animal and rode rapidly out of town
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+toward the Diamond K. He took a trail that led
+through the cut where on another morning he had
+startled the laborers by riding down the wall&mdash;Nigger
+eating up the ground with long, sure, swift strides&mdash;passing
+Pat Carson and his men at a point on the level
+about a quarter of a mile beyond the cut. He waved a
+hand to Carson as he flashed by, and something in
+his manner caused Carson to remark to the engineer
+of the dinky engine: &#8220;Somethin&#8217;s up wid Trevison
+ag&#8217;in, Murph&mdash;he&#8217;s got a domned mean look in his
+eye. I&#8217;m the onluckiest son-av-a-gun in the worruld,
+Murph! First I miss seein&#8217; this fire-eater bate the
+face off the big ilephant, Corrigan, an&#8217; yisterday I was
+figgerin&#8217; on goin&#8217; to town&mdash;but didn&#8217;t; an&#8217; I miss
+seein&#8217; that little whiffet of a Braman flyin&#8217; through the
+windy. Do ye&#8217;s know that there&#8217;s a feelin&#8217; ag&#8217;in Corrigan
+an&#8217; the railroad in town, an&#8217; thot this mon Trevison
+is the fuse that wud bust the boom av discontint.
+I&#8217;m beginnin&#8217; to feel a little excited meself. Now what
+do ye suppose that gang av min wid Winchesters was
+doin&#8217;, comin&#8217; from thot direction this mornin&#8217;?&#8221; He
+pointed toward the trail that Trevison was riding.
+&#8220;An&#8217; that big stiff, Corrigan, wid thim!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison got the answer to this query the minute he
+reached the Diamond K ranchhouse. His foreman
+came running to him, pale, disgusted, his voice snapping
+like a whip:</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ve busted your desk an&#8217; rifled it. Twenty
+guys who said they was deputies from the court in
+Manti, an&#8217; Corrigan. I was here alone, watchin&#8217;, as
+you told me, but couldn&#8217;t move a finger&mdash;damn &#8217;em!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></p>
+<p>Trevison dismounted and ran into the house. The
+room that he used as an office was in a state of disorder.
+Papers, books, littered the floor. It was evident
+that a thorough search had been made&mdash;for something.
+Trevison darted to the desk and ran a hand into
+the pigeonhole in which he kept the deed which he
+had come for. The hand came out, empty. He sprang
+to the door of a small closet where, in a box that contained
+some ammunition that he kept for the use of
+his men, he had placed the money that Rosalind Benham
+had brought to him. The money was not there.
+He walked to the center of the room and stood for
+an instant, surveying the mass of litter around him,
+reeling, rage-drunken, murder in his heart. Barkwell,
+the foreman, watching him, drew great, long breaths
+of sympathy and excitement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shall I get the boys an&#8217; go after them damn
+sneaks?&#8221; he questioned, his voice tremulous. &#8220;We&#8217;ll
+clean &#8217;em out&mdash;smoke &#8217;em out of the county!&#8221; he
+threatened. He started for the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait!&#8221; Trevison had conquered the first surge
+of passion; his grin was cold and bitter as he crossed
+glances with his foreman. &#8220;Don&#8217;t do anything&mdash;yet.
+I&#8217;m going to play the peace string out. If it doesn&#8217;t
+work, why then&mdash;&#8221; He tapped his pistol holster significantly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You get a few of the boys and stay here with
+them. It isn&#8217;t probable that they&#8217;ll try anything like
+that again, because they&#8217;ve got what they wanted. But
+if they happen to come again, hold them until I come.
+I&#8217;m going to court.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p>
+<p>Later, in Manti, he was sitting opposite Graney in
+a room in the hotel to which the Judge had gone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;H&#8217;m,&#8221; said the latter, compressing his lips; &#8220;that&#8217;s
+sharp practice. They are not wasting any time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was it legal?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The law is elastic&mdash;some judges stretch it more
+than others. A search-warrant and a writ of attachment
+probably did the business in this case. What I
+can&#8217;t understand is why Judge Lindman issued the writ
+at all&mdash;if he did so. You are the defendant, and you
+certainly would have brought the deed into court as
+a means of proving your case.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison had mentioned the missing money, though
+he did not think it important to explain where it had
+come from. And Judge Graney did not ask him. But
+when court opened at the appointed time, with a dignity
+which was a mockery to Trevison, and Judge Graney
+had explained that he had come to represent the defendant
+in the action, he mildly inquired the reason for the
+forcible entry into his client&#8217;s house, explaining also
+that since the defendant was required to prove his case
+it was optional with him whether or not the deed be
+brought into court at all.</p>
+<p>Corrigan had been on time; he had nodded curtly to
+Trevison when he had entered to take the chair in
+which he now sat, and had smiled when Trevison had
+deliberately turned his back. He smiled when Judge
+Graney asked the question&mdash;a faint, evanescent smirk.
+But at Judge Lindman&#8217;s reply he sat staring stolidly,
+his face an impenetrable mask:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There was no mention of a deed in the writ of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
+attachment issued by the court. Nor has the court any
+knowledge of the existence of such a deed. The officers
+of the court were commanded to proceed to the defendant&#8217;s
+house, for the purpose of finding, if possible, and
+delivering to this court the sum of twenty-seven hundred
+dollars, which amount, representing the money
+paid to the defendant by the railroad company for certain
+grants and privileges, is to remain in possession of
+the court until the title to the land in litigation has
+been legally awarded.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the court officers seized the defendant&#8217;s deed,
+also,&#8221; objected Judge Graney.</p>
+<p>Judge Lindman questioned a deputy who sat in the
+rear of the room. The latter replied that he had seen
+no deed. Yes, he admitted, in reply to a question of
+Judge Graney&#8217;s, it might have been possible that Corrigan
+had been alone in the office for a time.</p>
+<p>Graney looked inquiringly at Corrigan. The latter
+looked steadily back at him. &#8220;I saw no deed,&#8221; he said,
+coolly. &#8220;In fact, it wouldn&#8217;t be <i>possible</i> for me to see
+any deed, for Trevison has no title to the property he
+speaks of.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Judge Graney made a gesture of impotence to Trevison,
+then spoke slowly to the court. &#8220;I am afraid that
+without the deed it will be impossible for us to proceed.
+I ask a continuance until a search can be made.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Judge Lindman coughed. &#8220;I shall have to refuse
+the request. The plaintiff is anxious to take possession of
+his property, and as no reason has been shown why
+he should not be permitted to do so, I hereby return
+judgment in his favor. Court is dismissed.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I give notice of appeal,&#8221; said Graney.</p>
+<p>Outside a little later Judge Graney looked gravely
+at Trevison. &#8220;There&#8217;s knavery here, my boy; there&#8217;s
+some sort of influence behind Lindman. Let&#8217;s see some
+of the other owners who are likely to be affected.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This task took them two days, and resulted in the
+discovery that no other owner had secured a deed to
+his land. Lefingwell explained the omission.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A sale is a sale,&#8221; he said; &#8220;or a sale <i>has</i> been a
+sale until now. Land has changed hands out here
+just the same as we&#8217;d trade a horse for a cow or a pipe
+for a jack-knife. There was no questions asked. When
+a man had a piece of land to sell, he sold it, got his
+money an&#8217; didn&#8217;t bother to give a receipt. Half the
+damn fools in this country wouldn&#8217;t know a deed from
+a marriage license, an&#8217; they haven&#8217;t been needin&#8217; one
+or the other. For when a man has a wife she&#8217;s continually
+remindin&#8217; him of it, an&#8217; he can&#8217;t forget it&mdash;he&#8217;s
+got her. It&#8217;s the same with his land&mdash;he&#8217;s got it.
+So far as I know there&#8217;s never been a deed issued for
+my land&mdash;or any of the land in that Midland grant,
+except Trevison&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It looks as though Corrigan had considered that
+phase of the matter,&#8221; dryly observed Judge Graney.
+&#8220;The case doesn&#8217;t look very hopeful. However, I
+shall take it before the Circuit Court of Appeals, in
+Santa Fe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was gone a week, and returned, disgusted, but
+determined.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They denied our appeal; said they might have
+considered it if we had some evidence to offer showing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span>
+that we had some sort of a claim to the title. When
+I told them of my conviction that the records had been
+tampered with, they laughed at me.&#8221; The Judge&#8217;s
+eyes gleamed indignantly. &#8220;Sometimes, I feel heartily
+in sympathy with people who rail at the courts&mdash;their
+attitude is often positively asinine.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps the long arm of power has reached to
+Santa Fe?&#8221; suggested Trevison.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It won&#8217;t reach to Washington,&#8221; declared the Judge,
+decisively. &#8220;And if you say the word, I&#8217;ll go there and
+see what I can do. It&#8217;s an outrage!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was hoping you&#8217;d go&mdash;there&#8217;s no limit,&#8221; said
+Trevison. &#8220;But as I see the situation, everything
+depends upon the discovery of the original record. I&#8217;m
+convinced that it is still in existence, and that Judge
+Lindman knows where it is. I&#8217;m going to get it, or&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Easy, my friend,&#8221; cautioned the Judge. &#8220;I know
+how you feel. But you can&#8217;t fight the law with lawlessness.
+You lie quiet until you hear from me. That
+is all there is to be done, anyway&mdash;win or lose.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison clenched his teeth. &#8220;I might feel that
+way about it, if I had been as careless of my interests
+as the other owners here, but I safeguarded my interests,
+trusted them to the regularly recognized law out
+here, and I&#8217;m going to fight for them! Why, good
+God, man; I&#8217;ve worked ten years for that land! Do
+you think I will see it go <i>without</i> a fight?&#8221; He
+laughed, and the Judge shook his head at the sound.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XV_A_MUTUAL_BENEFIT_ASSOCIATION' id='XV_A_MUTUAL_BENEFIT_ASSOCIATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<h3>A MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Unheeding the drama that was rapidly and
+invisibly (except for the incident of Braman and
+the window) working itself out in its midst, Manti
+lunged forward on the path of progress, each day
+growing larger, busier, more noisy and more important.
+Perhaps Manti did not heed, because Manti was itself
+a drama&mdash;the drama of creation. Each resident, each
+newcomer, settled quickly and firmly into the place
+that desire or ambition or greed urged him; put forth
+whatever energy nature had endowed him with, and
+pushed on toward the goal toward which the town
+was striving&mdash;success; collectively winning, unrecking
+of individual failure or tragedy&mdash;those things were
+to be expected, and they fell into the limbo of forgotten
+things, easily and unnoticed. Wrecks, disasters, were
+certain. They came&mdash;turmoil engulfed them.</p>
+<p>Which is to say that during the two weeks that had
+elapsed since the departure of Judge Graney for Washington,
+Manti had paid very little attention to &#8220;Brand&#8221;
+Trevison while he haunted the telegraph station and
+the post-office for news. He was pointed out, it is
+true, as the man who had hurled banker Braman
+through the window of his bank building; there was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
+a hazy understanding that he was having some sort of
+trouble with Corrigan over some land titles, but in the
+main Manti buzzed along, busy with its visions and its
+troubles, leaving Trevison with his.</p>
+<p>The inaction, with the imminence of failure after
+ten years of effort, had its effect on Trevison. It fretted
+him; he looked years older; he looked worried and
+harassed; he longed for a chance to come to grips in
+an encounter that would ease the strain. Physical action
+it must be, for his brain was a muddle of passion and
+hatred in which clear thoughts, schemes, plans, plots,
+were swallowed and lost. He wanted to come into
+physical contact with the men and things that were
+thwarting him; he wanted to feel the thud and jar of
+blows; to catch the hot breath of open antagonism; he
+yearned to feel the strain of muscles&mdash;this fighting in
+the dark with courts and laws and lawyers, according
+to rules and customs, filled him with a raging impotence
+that hurt him. And then, at the end of two weeks came
+a telegram from Judge Graney, saying merely: &#8220;Be
+patient. It&#8217;s a long trail.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison got on Nigger and returned to the Diamond
+K.</p>
+<p>The six o&#8217;clock train arrived in Manti that evening
+with many passengers, among whom was a woman
+of twenty-eight at whom men turned to look the
+second time. Her traveling suit spoke eloquently of
+that personal quality which a language, seeking new
+and expressive phrases describes as &#8220;class.&#8221; It fitted
+her smoothly, tightly, revealing certain lines of her
+graceful figure that made various citizens of Manti
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+gasp. &#8220;Looks like she&#8217;d been poured into it,&#8221;
+remarked an interested lounger. She lingered on the
+station platform until she saw her trunks safely deposited,
+and then, drawing her skirts as though fearful of
+contamination, she walked, self-possessed and cool,
+through the doorway of the <i>Castle</i> hotel&mdash;Manti&#8217;s
+aristocrat of hostelries.</p>
+<p>Shortly afterwards she admitted Corrigan to her
+room. She had changed from her traveling suit to a
+gown of some soft, glossy material that accentuated the
+lines revealed by the discarded habit. The worldly-wise
+would have viewed the lady with a certain expressive
+smile that might have meant much or nothing. And
+the lady would have looked upon that smile as she
+now looked at Corrigan, with a faint defiance that had
+quite a little daring in it. But in the present case
+there was an added expression&mdash;two, in fact&mdash;pleasure
+and expectancy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;I&#8217;m here.&#8221; She bowed, mockingly, laughingly,
+compressing her lips as she noted the quick fire
+that flamed in her visitor&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all over, Jeff; I won&#8217;t go back to it. If
+that&#8217;s why&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right,&#8221; he said, smiling as he took the
+chair she waved him to; &#8220;I&#8217;ve erased a page or two
+from the past, myself. But I can&#8217;t help admiring you;
+you certainly are looking fine! What have you been
+doing to yourself?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She draped herself in a chair where she could look
+straight at him, and his compliment made her mouth
+harden at the corners.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; she said; &#8220;in your letter you promised
+you&#8217;d take me into your confidence. I&#8217;m ready.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s purely a business proposition. Each realizes
+on his effort. You help me to get Rosalind Benham
+through the simple process of fascinating Trevison;
+I help you to get Trevison by getting Miss Benham.
+It&#8217;s a sort of mutual benefit association, as it were.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does Trevison look like, Jeff&mdash;tell me?&#8221;
+The woman leaned forward in her chair, her eyes glowing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you women!&#8221; said Corrigan, with a gesture
+of disgust. &#8220;He&#8217;s a handsome fool,&#8221; he added; &#8220;if
+that&#8217;s what you want to know. But I haven&#8217;t any compliments
+to hand him regarding his manners&mdash;he&#8217;s a
+wild man!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d love to see him!&#8221; breathed the woman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, keep your hair on; you&#8217;ll see him soon
+enough. But you&#8217;ve got to understand this: He&#8217;s on
+my land, and he gets off without further fighting&mdash;if
+you can hold him. That&#8217;s understood, eh? You win
+him back and get him away from here. If you double-cross
+me, he finds out what you are!&#8221; He flung the
+words at her, roughly.</p>
+<p>She spoke quietly, though color stained her cheeks.
+&#8220;Not &#8216;are,&#8217; Jeff&mdash;what I was. That would be bad
+enough. But have no fear&mdash;I shall do as you ask.
+For I want him&mdash;I have wanted him all the time&mdash;even
+during the time I was chained to that little beast,
+Harvey. I wouldn&#8217;t have been what I am&mdash;if&mdash;if&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cut it out!&#8221; he advised brutally; &#8220;the man always
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span>
+gets the blame, anyway&mdash;so it&#8217;s no novelty to hear
+that sort of stuff. So you understand, eh? You choose
+your own method&mdash;but get results&mdash;quick! I want
+to get that damned fool away from here!&#8221; He got up
+and paced back and forth in the room. &#8220;If he takes
+Rosalind Benham away from me I&#8217;ll kill him! I&#8217;ll kill
+him, anyway!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has it gone very far between them?&#8221; The concern
+in her voice brought a harsh laugh from Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Far enough, I guess. He&#8217;s been riding with her;
+every day for three weeks, her aunt told me. He&#8217;s a
+fiery, impetuous devil!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry,&#8221; she consoled. &#8220;And now,&#8221; she
+directed; &#8220;get out of here. I&#8217;ve been on the go for
+days and days, and I want to sleep. I shall go out
+to see Rosalind tomorrow&mdash;to surprise her, Jeff&mdash;to
+surprise her. Ha, ha!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll have a rig here for you at nine o&#8217;clock,&#8221; said
+Corrigan. &#8220;Take your trunks&mdash;she won&#8217;t order you
+away. Tell her that Trevison sent for you&mdash;don&#8217;t
+mention my name; and stick to it! Well, pleasant
+dreams,&#8221; he added as he went out.</p>
+<p>As the door closed the woman stood looking at it, a
+sneer curving her lips.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVI_WHEREIN_A_WOMAN_LIES' id='XVI_WHEREIN_A_WOMAN_LIES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<h3>WHEREIN A WOMAN LIES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t you going to welcome me, dearie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>From the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse Rosalind
+had watched the rapid approach of the buckboard,
+and she now stood at the edge of the step leading to
+the porch, not more than ten or fifteen feet distant from
+the vehicle, shocked into dumb amazement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes&mdash;of course. That is&mdash;Why, what
+on earth brought you out here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A perfectly good train&mdash;as far as your awfully
+crude town of Manti; and this&mdash;er&mdash;spring-legged
+thing, the rest of the way,&#8221; laughed Hester Harvey.
+She had stepped down, a trifle flushed, inwardly amused,
+outwardly embarrassed&mdash;which was very good acting;
+but looking very attractive and girlish in the simple
+dress she had donned for the occasion&mdash;and for the
+purpose of making a good impression. So attractive
+was she that the contemplation of her brought a sinking
+sensation to Rosalind that drooped her shoulders,
+and caused her to look around, involuntarily, for something
+to lean upon. For there flashed into her mind at
+this instant the conviction that she had herself to blame
+for this visitation&mdash;she had written to Ruth Gresham,
+and Ruth very likely had disseminated the news, after
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
+the manner of all secrets, and Hester had heard it.
+And of course the attraction was &#8220;Brand&#8221; Trevison! A
+new emotion surged through Rosalind at this thought,
+an emotion so strong that it made her gasp&mdash;jealousy!</p>
+<p>She got through the ordeal somehow&mdash;with an
+appearance of pleasure&mdash;though it was hard for her
+to play the hypocrite! But so soon as she decently
+could, without cutting short the inevitable inconsequential
+chatter which fills the first moments of renewed
+friendships, she hurried Hester to a room and during
+her absence sat immovable in her chair on the porch
+staring stonily out at the plains.</p>
+<p>It was not until half an hour later, when they were
+sitting on the porch, that Hester delivered the stroke
+that caused Rosalind&#8217;s hands to fall nervelessly into her
+lap, her lips to quiver and her eyes to fill with a reflection
+of a pain that gripped her hard, somewhere inside.
+For Hester had devised her method, as suggested by
+Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It may seem odd to you&mdash;if you know anything
+of the manner of my breaking off with Trevison Brandon&mdash;but
+he wrote me about a month ago, asking me
+to come out here. I didn&#8217;t accept the invitation at
+once&mdash;because I didn&#8217;t want him to be too sure, you
+know, dearie. Men are always presuming and pursuing,
+dearie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you didn&#8217;t hear of Trevison&#8217;s whereabouts
+from Ruth Gresham?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, no, dearie! He wrote directly to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind hadn&#8217;t <i>that</i> to reproach herself with, at
+any rate!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, I couldn&#8217;t go to his ranch&mdash;the Diamond
+K, isn&#8217;t it?&mdash;so, noting from one of the newspapers
+that you had come here, I decided to take advantage
+of <i>your</i> hospitality. I&#8217;m just wild to see the dear
+boy! Is his ranch far? For you know,&#8221; she added,
+with a malicious look at the girl&#8217;s pale face; &#8220;I must
+not keep him waiting, now that I am here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You won&#8217;t find him prosperous.&#8221; It hurt Rosalind
+to say that, but the hurt was slightly offset by a savage
+resentment that gripped her when she thought of
+how quickly Hester had thrown Trevison over when
+she had discovered that he was penniless. And she
+had a desperate hope that the dismal aspect of Trevison&#8217;s
+future would appall Hester&mdash;as it would were
+the woman still the mercenary creature she had been
+ten years before. But Hester looked at her with grave
+imperturbability.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard something about his trouble. About some
+land, isn&#8217;t it? I didn&#8217;t learn the particulars. Tell me
+about it&mdash;won&#8217;t you, dearie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind&#8217;s story of Trevison&#8217;s difficulties did not
+have the effect that she anticipated.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The poor, dear boy!&#8221; said Hester&mdash;and she
+seemed genuinely moved. Rosalind gulped hard over
+the shattered ruins of this last hope and got up, fighting
+against an inhospitable impulse to order Hester
+away. She made some slight excuse and slipped to her
+room, where she stayed long, elemental passions battling
+riotously within her.</p>
+<p>She realized now how completely she had yielded to
+the spell that the magnetic and impetuous exile had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+woven about her; she knew now that had he pressed
+her that day when he had told her of his love for her
+she must have surrendered. She thought, darkly, of
+his fiery manner that day, of his burning looks, his hot,
+impulsive words, of his confidences. Hypocrisy all!
+For while they had been together he must have been
+thinking of sending for Hester! He had been trifling
+with her! Faith in an ideal is a sacred thing, and shattered,
+it lights the fires of hate and scorn, and the emotions
+that seethed through Rosalind&#8217;s veins as in her
+room she considered Trevison&#8217;s unworthiness, finally
+developed into a furious vindictiveness. She wished
+dire, frightful calamities upon him, and then, swiftly
+reacting, her sympathetical womanliness forced the
+dark passions back, and she threw herself on the bed,
+sobbing, murmuring: &#8220;Forgive me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Later, when she had made herself presentable, she
+went downstairs again, concealing her misery behind
+a steady courtesy and a smile that sometimes was a
+little forced and bitter, to entertain her guest. It was
+a long, tiresome day, made almost unbearable by Hester&#8217;s
+small talk. But she got through it. And when,
+rather late in the afternoon, Hester inquired the way
+to the Diamond K, announcing her intention of visiting
+Trevison immediately, she gave no evidence of the
+shocked surprise that seized her. She coolly helped
+Hester prepare for the trip, and when she drove away
+in the buckboard, stood on the ground at the edge of
+the porch, watching as the buckboard and its occupant
+faded into the shimmering haze of the plains.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVII_JUSTICE_VS_LAW' id='XVII_JUSTICE_VS_LAW'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<h3>JUSTICE VS. LAW</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Impatience, intolerable and vicious, gripped
+Trevison as he rode homeward after his haunting
+vigil at Manti. The law seemed to him to be like
+a house with many doors, around and through which
+one could play hide and seek indefinitely, with no possibility
+of finding one of the doors locked. Judge
+Graney had warned him to be cautious, but as he rode
+into the dusk of the plains the spirit of rebellion seized
+him. Twice he halted Nigger and wheeled him, facing
+Manti, already agleam and tumultuous, almost yielding
+to his yearning to return and force his enemy to some
+sort of physical action, but each time he urged the horse
+on, for he could think of no definite plan. He was
+half way to the Diamond K when he suddenly started
+and sat rigid and erect in the saddle, drawing a deep
+breath, his nerves tingling from excitement. He
+laughed lowly, exultingly, as men laugh when under
+the stress of adversity they devise sudden, bold plans
+of action, and responding to the slight knee press Nigger
+turned, reared, and then shot like a black bolt
+across the plains at an angle that would not take him
+anywhere near the Diamond K.</p>
+<p>Half an hour later, in a darkness which equaled that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
+of the night on which he had carried the limp and drink-saturated
+Clay Levins to his wife, Trevison was dismounting
+at the door of the gun-man&#8217;s cabin. A little
+later, standing in the glare of lamplight that shone
+through the open doorway, he was reassuring Mrs.
+Levins and asking for her husband. Shortly afterward,
+he was talking lowly to Levins as the latter
+saddled his pony out at the stable.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll do it&mdash;for you,&#8221; Levins told him. And then
+he chuckled. &#8220;It&#8217;ll seem like old times.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Justice versus Law, tonight,&#8221; laughed Trevison;
+&#8220;it&#8217;s a case of &#8216;the end justifying the means.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Manti never slept. At two o&#8217;clock in the morning
+the lights in the gambling rooms of the <i>Belmont</i> and
+the <i>Plaza</i> were still flickering streams out into the desert
+night; weak strains of discord were being drummed
+out of a piano in a dance hall; the shuffling of feet
+smote the dead, flat silence of the night with an odd,
+weird resonance. Here and there a light burned in
+a dwelling or store, or shone through the wall of a tent-house.
+But Manti&#8217;s one street was deserted&mdash;the only
+peace that Manti ever knew, had descended.</p>
+<p>Two men who had dismounted at the edge of town
+had hitched their horses in the shadow of a wagon
+shed in the rear of a store building, and were making
+their way cautiously down the railroad tracks toward
+the center of town. They kept in the shadows of the
+buildings as much as possible&mdash;for space was valuable
+now and many buildings nuzzled the railroad
+tracks; but when once they were forced to pass through
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+a light from a window their faces were revealed in it
+for an instant&mdash;set, grim and determined.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ve got to move quickly,&#8221; said one of the men
+as they neared the courthouse; &#8220;it will be daylight soon.
+Damn a town that never sleeps!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The other laughed lowly. &#8220;I&#8217;ve said the same thing,
+often,&#8221; he whispered. &#8220;Easy now&mdash;here we are!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They paused in the shadow of the building and whispered
+together briefly. A sound reached their ears
+as they stood. Peering around the corner nearest them
+they saw the bulk of a man appear. He walked almost
+to the corner of the building where they crouched, and
+they held their breath, tensing their muscles. Just when
+it seemed they must be discovered, the man wheeled,
+walked away, and vanished into the darkness toward
+the other side of the building. Presently he returned,
+and repeated the maneuver. As he vanished the second
+time, the larger man of the two in wait, whispered
+to the other:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s the sentry! Stand where you are&mdash;I&#8217;ll show
+Corrigan&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The words were cut short by the reappearance of the
+sentry. He came close to the corner, and wheeled, to
+return. A lithe black shape leaped like a huge cat,
+and landed heavily on the sentry&#8217;s shoulders, bringing
+a pained grunt from him. The grunt died in a gurgle
+as iron fingers closed on his throat; he was jammed,
+face down, into the dust and held there, smothering,
+until his body slacked and his muscles ceased rippling.
+Then a handkerchief was slipped around his mouth
+and drawn tightly. He was rolled over, still unconscious,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>
+his hands tied behind him. Then he was borne
+away into the darkness by the big man, who carried
+him as though he were a child.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Locked in a box-car,&#8221; whispered the big man, returning:
+&#8220;They&#8217;ll get him; they&#8217;re half unloaded.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Without further words they returned to the shadow
+of the building.</p>
+<p>Judge Lindman had not been able to sleep until long
+after his usual hour for retiring. The noise, and certain
+thoughts, troubled him. It was after midnight
+when he finally sought his cot, and he was in a heavy
+doze until shortly after two, when a breath of air,
+chilled by its clean sweep over the plains, searched him
+out and brought him up, sitting on the edge of the cot,
+shivering.</p>
+<p>The rear door of the courthouse was open. In front
+of the iron safe at the rear of the room he saw a man,
+faintly but unmistakably outlined in the cross light from
+two windows. He was about to cry out when his throat
+was seized from behind and he was borne back on the
+cot resistlessly. Held thus, a voice which made him
+strain his eyes in an effort to see the owner&#8217;s face, hissed
+in his ear:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to kill you, but I&#8217;ll do it if you cry
+out! I mean business! Do you promise not to betray
+us?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge wagged his head weakly, and the grip
+on his throat relaxed. He sat up, aware that the fingers
+were ready to grip his throat again, for he could
+feel the big shape lingering beside him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;This is an outrage!&#8221; he gasped, shuddering. &#8220;I
+know you&mdash;you are Trevison. I shall have you punished
+for this.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The other laughed lowly and vibrantly. &#8220;That&#8217;s
+your affair&mdash;if you dare! You say a word about this
+visit and I&#8217;ll feed your scoundrelly old carcass to the
+coyotes! Justice is abroad tonight and it won&#8217;t be
+balked. I&#8217;m after that original land record&mdash;and I&#8217;m
+going to have it. You know where it is&mdash;you&#8217;ve got
+it. Your face told me that the other day. You&#8217;re only
+half-heartedly in this steal. Be a man&mdash;give me the
+record&mdash;and I&#8217;ll stand by you until hell freezes over!
+Quick! Is it in the safe?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge wavered in agonized indecision. But
+thoughts of Corrigan&#8217;s wrath finally conquered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&mdash;it isn&#8217;t in the safe,&#8221; he said. And then, aware
+of his error because of the shrill breath the other drew,
+he added, quaveringly: &#8220;There is no&mdash;the original
+record is in my desk&mdash;you&#8217;ve seen it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bah!&#8221; The big shape backed away&mdash;two or
+three feet, whispering back at the Judge. &#8220;Open your
+mouth and you&#8217;re a dead man. I&#8217;ve got you covered!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Cowering on his cot the Judge watched the big shape
+join the other at the safe. How long it remained there,
+he did not know. A step sounded in the silence that
+reigned outside&mdash;a third shape loomed in the doorway.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Judge Lindman!&#8221; called a voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Y-es?&#8221; quavered the Judge, aware that the big
+shape in the room was now close to him, menacing him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your door&#8217;s open! Where&#8217;s Ed? There&#8217;s something
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
+wrong! Get up and strike a light. There&#8217;ll be
+hell to pay if Corrigan finds out we haven&#8217;t been watching
+your stuff. Damn it! A man can&#8217;t steal time for
+a drink without something happens. Jim and Bill
+and me just went across the street, leaving Ed here.
+They&#8217;re coming right&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He had been entering the room while talking, fingering
+in his pockets for a match. His voice died in a
+quick gasp as Trevison struck with the butt of his
+pistol. The man fell, silently.</p>
+<p>Another voice sounded outside. Trevison crouched
+at the doorway. A form darkened the opening. Trevison
+struck, missed, a streak of fire split the night&mdash;the
+newcomer had used his pistol. It went off again&mdash;the
+flame-spurt shooting ceilingward, as Levins clinched
+the man from the rear. A third man loomed in the
+doorway; a fourth appeared, behind him. Trevison
+swung at the head of the man nearest him, driving
+him back upon the man behind, who cursed, plunging
+into the room. The man whom Levins had seized was
+shouting orders to the others. But these suddenly
+ceased as Levins smashed him on the head with the
+butt of a pistol. Two others remained. They were
+stubborn and courageous. But it was miserable work,
+in the dark&mdash;blows were misdirected, friend striking
+friend; other blows went wild, grunts of rage and
+impotent curses following. But Trevison and Levins
+were intent on escaping&mdash;a victory would have been
+hollow&mdash;for the thud and jar of their boots on the
+bare floor had been heard; doors were slamming; from
+across the street came the barking of a dog; men were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>
+shouting questions at one another; from the box-car
+on the railroad tracks issued vociferous yells and curses.
+Trevison slipped out through the door, panting. His
+opponent had gone down, temporarily disabled from
+sundry vicious blows from a fist that had worked like
+a piston rod. A figure loomed at his side. &#8220;I got
+mine!&#8221; it said, triumphantly; &#8220;we&#8217;d better slope.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Another five minutes and I&#8217;d have cracked it,&#8221;
+breathed Levins as they ran. &#8220;What&#8217;s Corrigan havin&#8217;
+the place watched for?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got me. Afraid of the Judge, maybe. The
+Judge hasn&#8217;t his whole soul in this deal; it looks to me
+as though Corrigan is forcing him. But the Judge has
+the original record, all right; and it&#8217;s in that safe, too!
+God! If they&#8217;d only given us a minute or two longer!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They fled down the track, running heavily, for the
+work had been fast and the tension great, and when
+they reached the horses and threw themselves into the
+saddles, Manti was ablaze with light. As they raced
+away in the darkness a grim smile wreathed Trevison&#8217;s
+face. For though he had not succeeded in this
+enterprise, he had at least struck a blow&mdash;and he had
+corroborated his previous opinion concerning Judge
+Lindman&#8217;s knowledge of the whereabouts of the original
+record.</p>
+<p>It was three o&#8217;clock and the dawn was just breaking
+when Trevison rode into the Diamond K corral and
+pulled the saddle from Nigger. Levins had gone
+home.</p>
+<p>Trevison was disappointed. It had been a bold
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span>
+scheme, and well planned, and it would have succeeded
+had it not been for the presence of the sentries. He
+had not anticipated that. He laughed grimly, remembering
+Judge Lindman&#8217;s fright. Would the Judge
+reveal the identity of his early-morning visitor? Trevison
+thought not, for if the original record were in the
+safe, and if for any reason the Judge wished to conceal
+its existence from Corrigan, a hint of the identity
+of the early-morning visitors&mdash;especially of one&mdash;might
+arouse Corrigan&#8217;s suspicions.</p>
+<p>But what if Corrigan knew of the existence of the
+original record? There was the presence of the guards
+to indicate that he did. But there was Judge Lindman&#8217;s
+half-heartedness to disprove that line of reasoning.
+Also, Trevison was convinced that if Corrigan
+knew of the existence of the record he would destroy
+it; it would be dangerous, in the hands of an enemy.
+But it would be an admirable weapon of self-protection
+in the hands of a man who had been forced into wrong-doing&mdash;in
+the hands of Judge Lindman, for instance.
+Trevison opened the door that led to his office, thrilling
+with a new hope. He lit a match, stepped across
+the floor and touched the flame to the wick of the kerosene
+lamp&mdash;for it was not yet light enough for him
+to see plainly in the office&mdash;and stood for an instant
+blinking in its glare. A second later he reeled back
+against the edge of the desk, his hands gripping it,
+dumb, amazed, physically sick with a fear that he had
+suddenly gone insane. For in a big chair in a corner of
+the room, sleepy-eyed, tired, but looking very becoming
+in her simple dress with a light cloak over it, the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+collar turned up, so that it gave her an appearance of
+attractive negligence, a smile of delighted welcome on
+her face, was Hester Harvey.</p>
+<p>She got up as he stood staring dumfoundedly at her
+and moved toward him, with an air of artful supplication
+that brought a gasp out of him&mdash;of sheer relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t you welcome me, Trev? I have come very
+far, to see you.&#8221; She held out her hands and went
+slowly toward him, mutely pleading, her eyes luminous
+with love&mdash;which she did not pretend, for the boy
+she had known had grown into the promise of his youth&mdash;big,
+magnetic&mdash;a figure for any woman to love.</p>
+<p>He had been looking at her intently, narrowly, searchingly.
+He saw what she herself had not seen&mdash;the
+natural changes that ten years had brought to her. He
+saw other things&mdash;that she had not suspected&mdash;a certain
+blasé sophistication; a too bold and artful expression
+of the eyes&mdash;as though she knew their power
+and the lure of them; the slightly hard curve in the
+corners of her mouth; a second character lurking
+around her&mdash;indefinite, vague, repelling&mdash;the subconscious
+self, that no artifice can hide&mdash;the sin and the
+shame of deeds unrepented. If there had been a time
+when he had loved her, its potence could not leap the
+lapse of years and overcome his repugnance for her
+kind, and he looked at her coldly, barring her progress
+with a hand, which caught her two and held them in
+a grip that made her wince.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are you doing here? How did you get in?
+When did you come?&#8221; He fired the questions at her
+roughly, brutally.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Trev.&#8221; She gulped, her smile fading palely.
+The conquest was not to be the easy one she had thought&mdash;though
+she really wanted him&mdash;more than ever,
+now that she saw she was in danger of losing him.
+She explained, earnestly pleading with eyes that had
+lost their power to charm him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard you were here&mdash;that you were in trouble.
+I want to help you. I got here night before last&mdash;to
+Manti. Rosalind Benham had written about you to
+Ruth Gresham&mdash;a friend of hers in New York. Ruth
+Gresham told me. I went directly from Manti to
+Benham&#8217;s ranch. Then I came here&mdash;about dusk, last
+night. There was a man here&mdash;your foreman, he
+said. I explained, and he let me in. Trev&mdash;won&#8217;t you
+welcome me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t the first time I&#8217;ve been in trouble.&#8221; His
+laugh was harsh; it made her cringe and cry:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve repented for that. I shouldn&#8217;t have done it;
+I don&#8217;t know what was the matter with me. Harvey
+had been telling me things about you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You wouldn&#8217;t have believed him&mdash;&#8221; He laughed,
+cynically. &#8220;There&#8217;s no use of haggling over <i>that</i>&mdash;it&#8217;s
+buried, and I&#8217;ve placed a monument over it: &#8216;Here
+lies a fool that believed in a woman.&#8217; I don&#8217;t reproach
+you&mdash;you couldn&#8217;t be blamed for not wanting to marry
+an idiot like me. But I haven&#8217;t changed. I still have
+my crazy ideas of honor and justice and square-dealing,
+and my double-riveted faith in my ability to triumph
+over all adversity. But women&mdash;Bah! you&#8217;re
+all alike! You scheme, you plot, you play for place;
+you are selfish, cold; you snivel and whine&mdash;There
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+is more of it, but I can&#8217;t think of any more. But&mdash;let&#8217;s
+face this matter squarely. If you still like me, I&#8217;m
+sorry for you, for I can&#8217;t say that the sight of you has
+stirred any old passion in me. You shouldn&#8217;t have
+come out here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re terribly resentful, Trev. And I don&#8217;t
+blame you a bit&mdash;I deserve it all. But don&#8217;t send
+me away. Why, I&mdash;love you, Trev; I&#8217;ve loved you
+all these years; I loved you when I sent you away&mdash;while
+I was married to Harvey; and more afterwards&mdash;and
+now, deeper than ever; and&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He shook his head and looked at her steadily&mdash;cynicism,
+bald derision in his gaze. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry; but
+it can&#8217;t be&mdash;you&#8217;re too late.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He dropped her hands, and she felt of the fingers
+where he had gripped them. She veiled the quick,
+savage leap in her eyes by drooping the lids.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You love Rosalind Benham,&#8221; she said, quietly,
+looking at him with a mirthless smile. He started, and
+her lips grew a trifle stiff. &#8220;You poor boy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why the pity?&#8221; he said grimly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because she doesn&#8217;t care for you, Trev. She told
+me yesterday that she was engaged to marry a man
+named Corrigan. He is out here, she said. She
+remarked that she had found you very amusing during
+the three or four weeks of Corrigan&#8217;s absence, and
+she seemed delighted because the court out here had
+ruled that the land you thought was yours belongs to
+the man who is to be her husband.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stiffened at this, for it corroborated Corrigan&#8217;s
+words: &#8220;She is heart and soul with me in this deal,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+She is ambitious.&#8221; Trevison&#8217;s lips curled scornfully.
+First, Hester Keyes had been ambitious, and now it
+was Rosalind Benham. He fought off the bitter resentment
+that filled him and raised his head, laughing, glossing
+over the hurt with savage humor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;m doing some good in the world, after
+all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trev,&#8221; Hester moved toward him again, &#8220;don&#8217;t
+talk like that&mdash;it makes me shiver. I&#8217;ve been through
+the fire, boy&mdash;we&#8217;ve both been through it. I wasted
+myself on Harvey&mdash;you&#8217;ll do the same with Rosalind
+Benham. Ten years, boy&mdash;think of it! I&#8217;ve loved
+you for that long. Doesn&#8217;t that make you understand&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s nothing quite so dead as a love that a man
+doesn&#8217;t want to revive,&#8221; he said shortly; &#8220;do you
+understand that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She shuddered and paled, and a long silence came
+between them. The cold dawn that was creeping over
+the land stole into the office with them and found the
+fires of affection turned to the ashes of unwelcome
+memory. The woman seemed to realize at last, for
+she gave a little shiver and looked up at Trevison with
+a wan smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I think I understand, Trev. Oh, I am <i>so</i> sorry!
+But I am not going away. I am going to stay in Manti,
+to be near you&mdash;if you want me. And you will want
+me, some day.&#8221; She went close to him. &#8220;Won&#8217;t you
+kiss me&mdash;once, Trev? For the sake of old times?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d better go,&#8221; he said gruffly, turning his head.
+And then, as she opened the door and stood upon the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+threshold, he stepped after her, saying: &#8220;I&#8217;ll get your
+horse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s two of them,&#8221; she laughed tremulously.
+&#8220;I came in a buckboard.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two, then,&#8221; he said soberly as he followed her
+out. &#8220;And say&mdash;&#8221; He turned, flushing. &#8220;You came
+at dusk, last night. I&#8217;m afraid I haven&#8217;t been exactly
+thoughtful. Wait&mdash;I&#8217;ll rustle up something to eat.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I couldn&#8217;t touch it, thank you. Trev&mdash;&#8221; She
+started toward him impulsively, but he turned his back
+grimly and went toward the corral.</p>
+<p>Sunrise found Hester back at the Bar B. Jealous,
+hurt eyes had watched from an upstairs window the
+approach of the buckboard&mdash;had watched the Diamond
+K trail the greater part of the night. For, knowing
+of the absence of women at the Diamond K, Rosalind
+had anticipated Hester&#8217;s return the previous
+evening&mdash;for the distance that separated the two
+ranches was not more than two miles. But the girl&#8217;s
+vigil had been unrewarded until now. And when at
+last she saw the buckboard coming, scorn and rage,
+furious and deep, seized her. Ah, it was bold, brazen,
+disgraceful!</p>
+<p>But she forced herself to calmness as she went down
+stairs to greet her guest&mdash;for there might have been
+some excuse for the lapse of propriety&mdash;some accident&mdash;something,
+anything.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I expected you last night,&#8221; she said as she met
+Hester at the door. &#8220;You were delayed I presume.
+Has anything happened?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing, dearie.&#8221; Only the bold significance of
+Hester&#8217;s smile hid its deliberate maliciousness. &#8220;Trev
+was so glad to see me that he simply wouldn&#8217;t let me
+go. And it was daylight before we realized it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl gasped. And now, looking at the woman,
+she saw what Trevison had seen&mdash;staring back at her,
+naked and repulsive. She shuddered, and her face
+whitened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are hotels at Manti, Mrs. Harvey,&#8221; she said
+coldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well!&#8221; The woman did not change her
+smile. &#8220;I shall be very glad to take advantage of your
+kind invitation. For Trev tells me that presently there
+will be much bitterness between your crowd and himself,
+and I am certain that he wouldn&#8217;t want me to
+stay here. If you will kindly have a man bring my
+trunks&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>And so she rode toward Manti. Not until the varying
+undulations of the land hid her from view of the
+Bar B ranchhouse did she lose the malicious smile.
+Then it faded, and furious sobs of disappointment shook
+her.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XVIII_LAW_INVOKED_AND_DEFIED' id='XVIII_LAW_INVOKED_AND_DEFIED'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+<h3>LAW INVOKED AND DEFIED</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>As soon as the deputies had gone, two of them
+nursing injured heads, and all exhibiting numerous
+bruises, Judge Lindman rose and dressed. In the
+ghostly light preceding the dawn he went to the safe,
+his fingers trembling so that he made difficult work with
+the combination. He got a record from out of the
+safe, pulled out the bottom drawer, of a series filled
+with legal documents and miscellaneous articles, laid
+the record book on the floor and shoved the drawer
+in over it. An hour later he was facing Corrigan, who
+on getting a report of the incident from one of the deputies,
+had hurried to get the Judge&#8217;s version. The Judge
+had had time to regain his composure, though he was
+still slightly pale and nervous.</p>
+<p>The Judge lied glibly. He had seen no one in the
+courthouse. His first knowledge that anyone had been
+there had come when he had heard the voice of one,
+of the deputies, calling to him. And then all he had
+seen was a shadowy figure that had leaped and struck.
+After that there had been some shooting. And then
+the men had escaped.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one spoke?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a word,&#8221; said the Judge. &#8220;That is, of course,
+no one but the man who called to me.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Did they take anything?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is there to take? There is nothing of value.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gieger says one of them was working at the safe.
+What&#8217;s in there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some books and papers and supplies&mdash;nothing
+of value. That they tried to get into the safe would
+seem to indicate that they thought there was money
+there&mdash;Manti has many strangers who would not hesitate
+at robbery.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They didn&#8217;t get into the safe, then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I haven&#8217;t looked inside&mdash;nothing seems to be disturbed,
+as it would were the men safe-blowers. In
+their hurry to get away it would seem, if they had come
+to get into the safe, they would have left something
+behind&mdash;tools, or something of that character.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let&#8217;s have a look at the safe. Open it!&#8221; Corrigan
+seemed to be suspicious, and with a pulse of trepidation,
+the Judge knelt and worked the combination.
+When the door came open Corrigan dropped on his
+knees in front of it and began to pull out the contents,
+scattering them in his eagerness. He stood up after
+a time, scowling, his face flushed. He turned on the
+Judge, grasped him by the shoulders, his fingers gripping
+so hard that the Judge winced.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Lindman,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Those men
+were not ordinary robbers. Experienced men would
+know better than to crack a safe in a courthouse when
+there&#8217;s a bank right next door. I&#8217;ve an idea that it
+was some of Trevison&#8217;s work. You&#8217;ve done or said
+something that&#8217;s given him the notion that you&#8217;ve got
+the original record. Have you?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I swear I have said nothing,&#8221; declared the Judge.</p>
+<p>Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and
+then released him. &#8220;You burned it, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge nodded, and Corrigan compressed his
+lips. &#8220;I suppose it&#8217;s all right, but I can&#8217;t help wishing
+that I had been here to watch the ceremony of burning
+that record. I&#8217;d feel a damn sight more secure.
+But understand this: If you double-cross me in any
+detail of this game, you&#8217;ll never go to the penitentiary
+for what Benham knows about you&mdash;I&#8217;ll choke the
+gizzard out of you!&#8221; He took a turn around the
+room, stopping at last in front of the Judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now we&#8217;ll talk business. I want you to issue an
+order permitting me to erect mining machinery on
+Trevison&#8217;s land. We need coal here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Graney gave notice of appeal,&#8221; protested the Judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Which the Circuit Court denied.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;ll go to Washington,&#8221; persisted the Judge,
+gulping. &#8220;I can&#8217;t legally do it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan laughed. &#8220;Appoint a receiver to operate
+the mine, pending the Supreme Court decision. Appoint
+Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. There
+is no record or deed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no need of haste,&#8221; Lindman cautioned;
+&#8220;you can&#8217;t get mining machinery here for some time
+yet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan laughed, dragging the Judge to a window,
+from which he pointed out some flat-cars standing on
+a siding, loaded with lumber, machinery, corrugated
+iron, shutes, cables, trucks, &#8220;T&#8221; rails, and other articles
+that the Judge did not recognize.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p>
+<p>The Judge exclaimed in astonishment. Corrigan
+grunted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ordered that stuff six weeks ago, in anticipation of
+my victory in your court. You can see how I trusted
+in your honesty and perspicacity. I&#8217;ll have it on the
+ground tomorrow&mdash;some of it today. Of course I
+want to proceed legally, and in order to do that I&#8217;ll
+have to have the court order this morning. You do
+whatever is necessary.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At daylight he was in the laborers&#8217; camp, skirting
+the railroad at the edge of town, looking for Carson.
+He found the big Irishman in one of the larger tent-houses,
+talking with the cook, who was preparing breakfast
+amid a smother of smoke and the strong mingled
+odors of frying bacon and coffee. Corrigan went
+only to the flap of the tent, motioning Carson outside.</p>
+<p>Walking away from the tent toward some small
+frame buildings down the track, Corrigan said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are several carloads of material there,&#8221;
+pointing to the flat-cars which he had shown to the
+Judge. &#8220;I&#8217;ve hired a mining man to superintend the
+erection of that stuff&mdash;it&#8217;s mining machinery and material
+for buildings. I want you to place as many of
+your men as you can spare at the disposal of the engineer;
+his name&#8217;s Pickand, and you&#8217;ll find him at the
+cars at eight o&#8217;clock. I&#8217;ll have some more laborers sent
+over from the dam. Give him as many men as he
+wants; go with him yourself, if he wants you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are ye goin&#8217; to mine?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Coal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been looking over the land with Pickand; he
+says we&#8217;ll sink a shaft at the base of the butte below
+the mesa, where you are laying tracks now. We won&#8217;t
+have to go far, Pickand says. There&#8217;s coal&mdash;thick
+veins of it&mdash;running back into the wall of the butte.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right, sir,&#8221; said Carson. But he scratched his
+head in perplexity, eyeing Corrigan sidelong. &#8220;Ye
+woudn&#8217;t be sayin&#8217; that ye&#8217;ll be diggin&#8217; for coal on the
+railroad&#8217;s right av way, wud ye?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; snapped Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thin it will be on Trevison&#8217;s land. Have ye bargained
+wid him for it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No! Look here, Carson. Mind your own business
+and do as you&#8217;re told!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m elicted, I s&#8217;pose; but it&#8217;s a job I ain&#8217;t admirin&#8217;
+to do. If ye&#8217;ve got half the sinse I give ye credit for
+havin&#8217;, ye&#8217;ll be lettin&#8217; that mon Trevison alone&mdash;I&#8217;d
+a lot sooner smoke a segar in that shed av dynamite
+than to cross him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan smiled and turned to look in the direction
+in which the Irishman was pointing. A small, flat-roofed
+frame building, sheathed with corrugated iron,
+met his view. Crude signs, large enough to be read
+hundreds of feet distant, were affixed to the walls:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;CAUTION. DYNAMITE.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you keep much of it there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Enough for anny blastin&#8217; we have to do. There&#8217;s
+plenty&mdash;half a ton, mebbe.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;s got the key?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Meself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan returned to town, breakfasted, mounted
+a horse and rode out to the dam, where he gave orders
+for some laborers to be sent to Carson. At nine o&#8217;clock
+he was back in Manti talking with Pickand, and watching
+the dinky engine as it pulled the loaded flat-cars
+westward over the tracks. He left Pickand and went
+to his office in the bank building, where he conferred
+with some men regarding various buildings and
+improvements in contemplation, and shortly after ten,
+glancing out of a window, he saw a buckboard stop in
+front of the <i>Castle</i> hotel. Corrigan waited a little,
+then closed his desk and walked across the street.
+Shortly he confronted Hester Harvey in her room. He
+saw from her downcast manner that she had failed. His
+face darkened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wouldn&#8217;t work, eh? What did he say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The woman was hunched down in her chair, still
+wearing the cloak that she had worn in Trevison&#8217;s office;
+the collar still up, the front thrown open. Her hair
+was disheveled; dark lines were under her eyes; she
+glared at Corrigan in an abandon of savage dejection.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He turned me down&mdash;cold.&#8221; Her laugh held
+the bitterness of self-derision. &#8220;I&#8217;m through, there,
+Jeff.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hell!&#8221; cursed the man. She looked at him, her
+lips curving with amused contempt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you&#8217;re all right&mdash;don&#8217;t worry. That&#8217;s all
+you care about, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; She laughed harshly at the
+quickened light in his eyes. &#8220;You&#8217;d see me sacrifice
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
+myself; you wouldn&#8217;t give me a word of sympathy.
+That&#8217;s you! That&#8217;s the way of all men. Give, give,
+give! That&#8217;s the masculine chorus&mdash;the hunting-song
+of the human wolf-pack!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk like that&mdash;it ain&#8217;t like you, kid. You
+were always the gamest little dame I ever knew.&#8221; He
+essayed to take the hand that was twisted in the folds
+of her cloak, but she drew it away from him in a fury.
+And the eagerness in his eyes betrayed the insincerity
+of his attempt at consolation; she saw it&mdash;the
+naked selfishness of his look&mdash;and sneered at him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You want the good news, eh? The good for you?
+That&#8217;s all you care about. After you get it, I&#8217;ll get
+the husks of your pity. Well, here it is. I&#8217;ve poisoned
+them both&mdash;against each other. I told him she was
+against him in this land business. And it hurt me to
+see how gamely he took it, Jeff!&#8221; her voice broke, but
+she choked back the sob and went on, hoarsely: &#8220;He
+didn&#8217;t make a whimper. Not even when I told him
+you were going to marry her&mdash;that you were engaged.
+But there was a fire in those eyes of his that I would
+give my soul to see there for me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;yes,&#8221; said the man, impatiently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you devil!&#8221; she railed at him. &#8220;I&#8217;ve made
+him think it was a frame-up between you and her&mdash;to
+get information out of him; I told him that she
+had strung him along for a month or so&mdash;amusing
+herself. And he believes it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I&#8217;ve made her believe that he sent for me,&#8221;
+she went on, her voice leaping to cold savagery. &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+stayed all night at his place, and I went back to the Bar
+B in the morning&mdash;this morning&mdash;and made Rosalind
+Benham think&mdash;Ha, ha! She ordered me away
+from the house&mdash;the hussy! She&#8217;s through with him&mdash;any
+fool could tell that. But it&#8217;s different with him,
+Jeff. He won&#8217;t give her up; he isn&#8217;t that kind. He&#8217;ll
+fight for her&mdash;and he&#8217;ll have her!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The eager, pleased light died out of Corrigan&#8217;s face,
+his lips set in an ugly pout. But he contrived to smile
+as he got up.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve done well&mdash;so far. But don&#8217;t give him up.
+Maybe he&#8217;ll change his mind. Stay here&mdash;I&#8217;ll stake
+you to the limit.&#8221; He laid a roll of bills on a stand&mdash;she
+did not look at them&mdash;and approached her in a
+second endeavor to console her. But she waved him
+away, saying: &#8220;Get out of here&mdash;I want to think!&#8221;
+And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Selfish?&#8221; he muttered, going down the street.
+&#8220;Well, what of it? That&#8217;s a human weakness, isn&#8217;t
+it? Get what you want, and to hell with other people!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed
+rest. He had watched Hester Harvey go with no conscious
+regret, but with a certain grim pity, which was
+as futile as her visit. But, lying on the bed he fought
+hard against the bitter scorn that raged in him over
+the contemplation of Rosalind Benham&#8217;s duplicity. He
+found it hard to believe that she had been duping him,
+for during the weeks of his acquaintance with her he
+had studied her much&mdash;with admiration-weighted
+prejudice, of course, since she made a strong appeal
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+to him&mdash;and he had been certain, then, that she was
+as free from guile as a child&mdash;excepting any girl&#8217;s
+natural artifices by which she concealed certain emotions
+that men had no business trying to read. He had
+read some of them&mdash;his business or not&mdash;and he had
+imagined he had seen what had fired his blood&mdash;a
+reciprocal affection. He would not have declared himself,
+otherwise.</p>
+<p>He went to sleep, thinking of her. He awoke about
+noon, to see Barkwell standing at his side, shaking him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you got any understandin&#8217; with that railroad
+gang that they&#8217;re to do any minin&#8217; on the Diamond K
+range?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, they&#8217;re gettin&#8217; ready to do it. Over at the
+butte near the railroad cut. I passed there a while ago
+an&#8217; quizzed the big guy&mdash;Corrigan&mdash;about a gang
+workin&#8217; there. He says they&#8217;re goin&#8217; to mine coal.
+I asked him if he had your permission an&#8217; he said he
+didn&#8217;t need it. I reckon they ain&#8217;t none shy on gall
+where that guy come from!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison got out of bed and buckled on his cartridge
+belt and pistol. &#8220;The boys are working the Willow
+Creek range,&#8221; he said, sharply. &#8220;Get them, tell
+them to load up with plenty of cartridges, and join me
+at the butte.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He heard Barkwell go leaping down the stairs, his
+spurs striking the step edges, and a few minutes later,
+riding Nigger out of the corral he saw the foreman
+racing away in a dust cloud. He followed the bed of
+the river, himself, going at a slow lope, for he wanted
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+time to think&mdash;to gain control of the rage that boiled
+in his veins. He conquered it, and when he came in
+sight of the butte he was cool and deliberate, though
+on his face was that &#8220;mean&#8221; look that Carson had
+once remarked about to his friend Murphy, partly hidden
+by the &#8220;tiger&#8221; smile which, the Irishman had discovered,
+preceded action, ruthless and swift.</p>
+<p>The level below the butte was a-buzz with life and
+energy. Scores of laborers were rushing about under
+the direction of a tall, thin, bespectacled man who
+seemed to be the moving spirit in all the activity. He
+shouted orders to Carson&mdash;Trevison saw the big figure
+of the Irishman dominating the laborers&mdash;who
+repeated them, added to them; sending men scampering
+hither and thither. Pausing at a little distance
+down the level, Trevison watched the scene. At first
+all seemed confusion, but presently he was able to
+discern that method ruled. For he now observed that
+the laborers were divided into &#8220;gangs.&#8221; Some were
+unloading the flat-cars, others were &#8220;assembling&#8221; a
+stationary engine near the wall of the butte. They had
+a roof over it, already. Others were laying tracks that
+intersected with the main line; still others were erecting
+buildings along the level. They were on Trevison&#8217;s
+land&mdash;there was no doubt of that. Moreover,
+they were erecting their buildings and apparatus at the
+point where Trevison himself had contemplated making
+a start. He saw Corrigan seated on a box on one
+of the flat-cars, smoking a cigar; another man, whom
+Trevison recognized as Gieger&mdash;he would have been
+willing to swear the man was one of those who had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+thwarted his plans in the courthouse&mdash;standing beside
+him, a Winchester rifle resting in the hollow of his left
+arm. Trevison urged Nigger along the level, down
+the track, and halted near Corrigan and Gieger. He
+knew that Corrigan had seen him, but it pleased the
+other to pretend that he had not.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is your work, Corrigan&mdash;I take it?&#8221; said
+Trevison, bluntly.</p>
+<p>Corrigan turned slowly. He was a good actor, for
+he succeeded in getting a fairly convincing counterfeit
+of surprise into his face as his gaze fell on his enemy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have taken it correctly, sir.&#8221; He smiled
+blandly, though there was a snapping alertness in his
+eyes that belied his apparent calmness. He turned to
+Gieger, ignoring Trevison. &#8220;Organization is the
+thing. Pickand is a genius at it,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s eyes flamed with rage over this deliberate
+insult. But in it he saw a cold design to make him lose
+his temper. The knowledge brought a twisting smile to
+his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have permission to begin this work, I suppose?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan turned again, as though astonished at the
+persistence of the other. &#8220;Certainly, sir. This work
+is being done under a court order, issued this morning.
+I applied for it yesterday. I am well within my legal
+rights, the court having as you are aware, settled the
+question of the title.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I have appealed the case?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have not been informed that you have done so.
+In any event such an appeal would not prevent me mining
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
+the coal on the property, pending the hearing of
+the case in the higher court. Judge Lindman has appointed
+a receiver, who is bonded; and the work is to
+proceed under his direction. I am here merely as an
+onlooker.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked fairly at Trevison, his eyes gleaming
+with cold derision. The expression maddened the other
+beyond endurance, and his eyes danced the chill glitter
+of meditated violence, unrecking consequences.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re a sneaking crook, Corrigan, and you know
+it! You&#8217;re going too far! You&#8217;ve had Braman appointed
+in order to escape the responsibility! You&#8217;re
+hiding behind him like a coward! Come out into the
+open and fight like a man!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s face bloated poisonously, but he made
+no hostile move. &#8220;I&#8217;ll kill you for that some day!&#8221;
+he whispered. &#8220;Not now,&#8221; he laughed mirthlessly as
+the other stiffened; &#8220;I can&#8217;t take the risk right now&mdash;I&#8217;ve
+too much depending on me. But you&#8217;ve been
+damned impertinent and troublesome, and when I get
+you where I want you I&#8217;m going to serve you like this!&#8221;
+And he took the cigar from his mouth, dropped it to
+the floor of the car and ground it to pieces under his
+heel. He looked up again, at Trevison, and their
+gaze met, in each man&#8217;s eyes glowed the knowledge of
+imminent action, ruthless and terrible.</p>
+<p>Trevison broke the tension with a laugh that came
+from between his teeth. &#8220;Why delay?&#8221; he mocked.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve been ready for the grinding process since the first
+day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Enough of this!&#8221; Corrigan turned to Gieger with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+a glance of cold intolerance. &#8220;This man is a nuisance,&#8221;
+he said to the deputy. &#8220;Carry out the mandate of the
+court and order him away. If he doesn&#8217;t go, kill him!
+He is a trespasser, and has no right here!&#8221; And he
+glared at Trevison.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got to get out, mister,&#8221; said the deputy.
+He tapped his rifle menacingly, betraying a quick accession
+of rage that he caught, no doubt, from Corrigan.
+Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little.
+For an instant he meditated resistance, and dropped
+his right hand to the butt of his pistol. A shout distracted
+his attention. It came from behind him&mdash;it
+sounded like a warning, and he wheeled, to see Carson
+running toward him, not more than ten feet distant,
+waving his hands, a huge smile on his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Domned if it ain&#8217;t Trevison!&#8221; he yelled as he
+lunged forward and caught Trevison&#8217;s right hand in his
+own, pulling the rider toward him. &#8220;I&#8217;ve been wantin&#8217;
+to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now&mdash;about thim
+cows which me brother in Illinoy has been askin&#8217; me
+about, an&#8217; divvil a chance have I had to see ye!&#8221; And
+as he yanked Trevison&#8217;s shoulders downward with a
+sudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered,
+rapidly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Diputies&mdash;thirty av thim wid Winchesters&mdash;on
+the other side av the flat-cars. It&#8217;s a thrap to do away
+wid ye&mdash;I heard &#8217;em cookin&#8217; it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; ye wudn&#8217;t be sellin&#8217; &#8217;em to me at twinty-five,
+eh?&#8221; he said, aloud. &#8220;Go &#8217;long wid ye&mdash;ye&#8217;re a
+domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!&#8221; And
+he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+laughed gleefully as the animal lunged at him, ears
+laid back, mouth open.</p>
+<p>His eyes cold, his lips hard and straight, Trevison
+spurred the black again to the flat-car.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The bars are down between us, Corrigan; it&#8217;s man
+to man from now on. Law or no law, I give you
+twenty-four hours to get your men and apparatus off
+my land. After that I won&#8217;t be responsible for what
+happens!&#8221; He heard a shout behind him, a clatter,
+and he turned to see ten or twelve of his men racing
+over the level toward him. At the same instant he
+heard a sharp exclamation from Corrigan; heard Gieger
+issue a sharp order, and a line of men raised their
+heads above the flat-cars, rifles in their hands, which
+they trained on the advancing cowboys.</p>
+<p>Nigger leaped; his rider holding up one hand, the
+palm toward his men, as a sign to halt, while he charged
+into them. Trevison talked fast to them, while the
+laborers, suspending work, watched, muttering; and
+the rifles, resting on the flat-cars, grew steadier in their
+owners&#8217; hands. The silence grew deeper; the tension
+was so great that when somewhere a man dropped a
+shovel, it startled the watchers like a sudden bomb.</p>
+<p>It was plain that Trevison&#8217;s men wanted to fight. It
+was equally plain that Trevison was arguing to dissuade
+them. And when, muttering, and casting belligerent
+looks backward, they finally drew off, Trevison following,
+there was a sigh of relief from the watchers,
+while Corrigan&#8217;s face was black with disappointment.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XIX_A_WOMAN_RIDES_IN_VAIN' id='XIX_A_WOMAN_RIDES_IN_VAIN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+<h3>A WOMAN RIDES IN VAIN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Out of Rosalind Benham&#8217;s resentment against
+Trevison for the Hester Harvey incident grew a
+sudden dull apathy&mdash;which presently threatened to
+become an aversion&mdash;for the West. Its crudeness,
+the uncouthness of its people; the emptiness, the monotony,
+began to oppress her. Noticing the waning of her
+enthusiasm, Agatha began to inject energetic condemnations
+of the country into her conversations with the
+girl, and to hint broadly of the contrasting allurements
+of the East.</p>
+<p>But Rosalind was not yet ready to desert the Bar B.
+She had been hurt, and her interest in the country had
+dulled, but there were memories over which one might
+meditate until&mdash;until one could be certain of some
+things. This was hope, insistently demanding delay of
+judgment. The girl could not forget the sincere ring
+in Trevison&#8217;s voice when he had told her that he would
+never go back to Hester Harvey. Arrayed against this
+declaration was the cold fact of Hester&#8217;s visit, and
+Hester&#8217;s statement that Trevison had sent for her. In
+this jumble of contradiction hope found a fertile field.</p>
+<p>If Corrigan had anticipated that the knowledge of
+Hester&#8217;s visit to Trevison would have the effect of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
+centering Rosalind&#8217;s interest on him, he had erred.
+Corrigan was magnetic; the girl felt the lure of him.
+In his presence she was continually conscious of his
+masterfulness, with a dismayed fear that she would
+yield to it. She knew this sensation was not love, for
+it lacked the fire and the depth of the haunting, breathless
+surge of passion that she had felt when she had
+held Trevison off the day when he had declared his love
+for her&mdash;that she felt whenever she thought of him.
+But with Trevison lost to her&mdash;she did not know what
+would happen, then. For the present her resentment
+was sufficient to keep her mind occupied.</p>
+<p>She had a dread of meeting Corrigan this morning.
+Also, Agatha&#8217;s continued deprecatory speeches had
+begun to annoy her, and at ten o&#8217;clock she ordered one
+of the men to saddle her horse.</p>
+<p>She rode southward, following a trail that brought
+her to Levins&#8217; cabin. The cabin was built of logs,
+smoothly hewn and tightly joined, situated at the edge
+of some timber in a picturesque spot at a point where a
+shallow creek doubled in its sweep toward some broken
+country west of Manti.</p>
+<p>Rosalind had visited Mrs. Levins many times. The
+warmth of her welcome on her first visit had resulted
+in a quick intimacy which, with an immediate estimate
+of certain needs by Rosalind, had brought her back in
+the rôle of Lady Bountiful. &#8220;Chuck&#8221; and &#8220;Sissy&#8221;
+Levins welcomed her vociferously as she splashed
+across the river to the door of the cabin this morning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re clean spoilin&#8217; them, Miss Rosalind!&#8221; declared
+the mother, watching from the doorway;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+&#8220;they&#8217;ve got so they expect you to bring them a present
+every time you come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sundry pats and kisses sufficed to assuage the pangs
+of disappointment suffered by the children, and shortly
+afterward Rosalind was inside the cabin, talking with
+Mrs. Levins, and watching Clay, who was painstakingly
+mending a breach in his cartridge belt.</p>
+<p>Rosalind had seen Clay once only, and that at a distance,
+and she stole interested glances at him. There
+was a certain attraction in Clay&#8217;s lean face, with its
+cold, alert furtiveness, but it was an attraction that bred
+chill instead of warmth, for his face revealed a wild,
+reckless, intolerant spirit, remorseless, contemptuous of
+law and order. Several times she caught him watching
+her, and his narrowed, probing glances disconcerted
+her. She cut her visit short because of his presence,
+and when she rose to go he turned in his chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You like this country, ma&#8217;am?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;yes. But it is much different, after the
+East.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some smoother there, eh? Folks are slicker?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She eyed him appraisingly, for there was an undercurrent
+of significance in his voice. She smiled. &#8220;Well&mdash;I
+suppose so. You see, competition is keener in the
+East, and it rather sharpens one&#8217;s wits, I presume.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;H&#8217;m. I reckon you&#8217;re right. This railroad has
+brought some <i>mighty</i> slick ones here. Mighty slick an&#8217;
+gally.&#8221; He looked at her truculently. &#8220;Corrigan&#8217;s
+one of the slick ones. Friend of yours, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clay!&#8221; remonstrated his wife, sharply.</p>
+<p>He turned on her roughly. &#8220;You keep out of this!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
+I ain&#8217;t meanin&#8217; nothin&#8217; wrong. But I reckon when anyone&#8217;s
+got a sneakin&#8217; coyote for a friend an&#8217; don&#8217;t know
+it, it&#8217;s doin&#8217; &#8217;em a good turn to spit things right out,
+frank an&#8217; fair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This Corrigan ain&#8217;t on the level, ma&#8217;am. Do you
+know what he&#8217;s doin&#8217;? He&#8217;s skinnin&#8217; the folks in this
+country out of about a hundred thousand acres of land.
+He&#8217;s clouded every damn title. He&#8217;s got a fake bill
+of sale to show that he bought the land years ago&mdash;which
+he didn&#8217;t&mdash;an&#8217; he&#8217;s got a little beast of a judge
+here to back him up in his play. They&#8217;ve done away
+with the original record of the land, an&#8217; rigged up
+another, which makes Corrigan&#8217;s title clear. It&#8217;s the
+rankest robbery that any man ever tried to pull off,
+an&#8217; if he&#8217;s a friend of yourn you ought to cut him off
+your visitin&#8217; list!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you know that? Who told you?&#8221; asked
+the girl, her face whitening, for the man&#8217;s vehemence
+and evident earnestness were convincing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Brand&#8217; Trevison told me. It hits him mighty
+damned hard. He had a deed to his land. Corrigan
+broke open his office an&#8217; stole it. Trevison&#8217;s certain
+sure his deed was on the record, for he went to Dry
+Bottom with Buck Peters&mdash;the man he bought the
+land from&mdash;an&#8217; seen it wrote down on the record!&#8221;
+He laughed harshly. &#8220;There&#8217;s goin&#8217; to be hell to pay
+here. Trevison won&#8217;t stand for it&mdash;though the other
+gillies are advisin&#8217; caution. Caution hell! I&#8217;m for
+cleanin&#8217; the scum out! Do you know what Corrigan
+done, yesterday? He got thirty or so deputies&mdash;pluguglies
+that he&#8217;s hired&mdash;an&#8217; hid &#8217;em behind some
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+flat-cars down on the level where they&#8217;re erectin&#8217; some
+minin&#8217; machinery. He laid a trap for &#8216;Firebrand,&#8217;
+expectin&#8217; him to come down there, rippin&#8217; mad because
+they was puttin&#8217; the minin&#8217; machinery up on his land,
+wi&#8217;out his permission. They was goin&#8217; to shoot him&mdash;Corrigan
+put &#8217;em up to it. That Carson fello&#8217;
+heard it an&#8217; put &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; wise. An&#8217; the shootin&#8217;
+didn&#8217;t come off. But that&#8217;s only the beginnin&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did Trevison tell you to tell me this?&#8221; The girl
+was stunned, amazed, incredulous. For her father was
+concerned in this, and if he had any knowledge that
+Corrigan was stealing land&mdash;if he <i>was</i> stealing it&mdash;he
+was guilty as Corrigan. If he had no knowledge
+of it, she might be able to prevent the steal by communicating
+with him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison tell me?&#8221; laughed Levins, scornfully;
+&#8220;&#8216;Firebrand&#8217; ain&#8217;t no pussy-kitten fighter which depends
+on women standin&#8217; between him an&#8217; trouble. I&#8217;m tellin&#8217;
+you on my own hook, so&#8217;s that big stiff Corrigan won&#8217;t
+get swelled up, thinkin&#8217; he&#8217;s got a chance to hitch up
+with you in the matrimonial wagon. That guy&#8217;s got
+murder in his heart, girl. Did you hear of me shootin&#8217;
+that sneak, Marchmont?&#8221; The girl had heard rumors
+of the affair; she nodded, and Levins went on. &#8220;It
+was Corrigan that hired me to do it&mdash;payin&#8217; me a
+thousand, cash.&#8221; His wife gasped, and he spoke gently
+to her. &#8220;That&#8217;s all right, Ma; it wasn&#8217;t no cold-blooded
+affair&mdash;Jim Marchmont knowed a sister of mine pretty
+intimate, when he was out here years ago, an&#8217; I settled
+a debt that I thought I owed to her, that&#8217;s all. I ain&#8217;t
+none sorry, neither&mdash;I knowed him soon as Corrigan
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+mentioned his name. But I hadn&#8217;t no time to call his
+attention to things&mdash;I had to plug him, sudden. I&#8217;m
+sorry I&#8217;ve said this, ma&#8217;am, now that it&#8217;s out,&#8221; he said
+in a changed voice, noting the girl&#8217;s distress; &#8220;but I
+felt you ought to know who you&#8217;re dealin&#8217; with.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind went out, swaying, her knees shaking. She
+heard Levins&#8217; wife reproving him; heard the man replying
+gruffly. She felt that it <i>must</i> be so. She cared
+nothing about Corrigan, beyond a certain regret, but
+a wave of sickening fear swept over her at the growing
+conviction that her father <i>must</i> know something of all
+this. And if, as Levins said, Corrigan was attempting
+to defraud these people, she felt that common justice
+required that she head him off, if possible. By defeating
+Corrigan&#8217;s aim she would, of course, be aiding Trevison,
+and through him Hester Harvey, whom she had
+grown to despise, but that hatred should not deter her.
+She mounted her horse in a fever of anxiety and raced
+it over the plains toward Manti, determined to find
+Corrigan and force him to tell her the truth.</p>
+<p>Half way to town she saw a rider coming, and she
+slowed her own horse, taking the rider to be Corrigan,
+coming to the Bar B. She saw her mistake when the
+rider was within a hundred feet of her. She blushed,
+then paled, and started to pass the rider without speaking,
+for it was Trevison. She looked up when he
+urged Nigger against her animal, blocking the trail,
+frowning.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here,&#8221; he said; &#8220;what&#8217;s wrong? Why do
+you avoid me? I saw you on the Diamond K range
+the other day, and when I started to ride toward you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+you whipped up your horse. You tried to pass me just
+now. What have I done to deserve it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She could not tell him about Hester Harvey, of
+course, and so she was silent, blushing a little. He took
+her manner as an indication of guilt, and gritted his
+teeth with the pain that the discovery caused him, for
+he had been hoping, too&mdash;that his suspicions of her
+were groundless.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not care to discuss the matter with you.&#8221; She
+looked fairly at him, her resentment flaming in her
+eyes, fiercely indignant over his effrontery in addressing
+her in that manner, after his affair with Hester Harvey.
+She was going to help him, but that did not mean that
+she was going to blind herself to his faults, or to accept
+them mutely. His bold confidence in himself&mdash;which
+she had once admired&mdash;repelled her now; she saw in
+it the brazen egotism of the gross sensualist, seeking
+new victims.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am in a hurry,&#8221; she said, stiffly; &#8220;you will pardon
+me if I proceed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He jumped Nigger off the trail and watched with
+gloomy, disappointed eyes, her rapid progress toward
+Manti. Then he urged Nigger onward, toward Levins&#8217;
+cabin. &#8220;I&#8217;ll have to erect another monument to my
+faith in women,&#8221; he muttered. And certain reckless,
+grim thoughts that had rioted in his mind since the day
+before, now assumed a definiteness that made his blood
+leap with eagerness.</p>
+<p>Later, when Rosalind sat opposite Corrigan at his
+desk, she found it hard to believe Levins&#8217; story. The
+big man&#8217;s smooth plausibility made Levins&#8217; recital seem
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+like the weird imaginings of a disordered mind, goaded
+to desperation by opposition. And again, his magnetism,
+his polite consideration for her feelings, his
+ingenuous, smiling deference&mdash;so sharply contrasted
+with Trevison&#8217;s direct bluntness&mdash;swayed her, and she
+sat, perplexed, undecided, when he finished the explanation
+she had coldly demanded of him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is the invariable defense of these squatters,&#8221; he
+added; &#8220;that they are being robbed. In this case they
+have embellished their hackneyed tale somewhat by
+dragging the court into it, and telling you that absurd
+story about the shooting of Marchmont. Could you tell
+me what possible interest I could have in wanting Marchmont
+killed? Don&#8217;t you think, Miss Rosalind, that
+Levins&#8217; reference to his sister discloses the real reason
+for the man&#8217;s action? Levins&#8217; story that I paid him a
+thousand dollars is a fabrication, pure and simple. I
+paid Jim Marchmont a thousand dollars that morning,
+which was the balance due him on our contract. The
+transaction was witnessed by Judge Lindman. After
+Marchmont was shot, Levins took the money from
+him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why wasn&#8217;t Levins arrested?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems that public opinion was with Levins. A
+great many people here knew of the ancient trouble
+between them.&#8221; He passed from that, quickly. &#8220;The
+tale of the robbery of Trevison&#8217;s office is childlike, for
+the reason that Trevison had no deed. Judge Lindman
+is an honored and respected official. And&mdash;&#8221; he
+added as a last argument &#8220;&mdash;your father is the respected
+head of a large and important railroad. Is it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
+logical to suppose that he would lend his influence and
+his good name to any such ridiculous scheme?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She sighed, almost convinced. Corrigan went on,
+earnestly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This man Trevison is a disturber&mdash;he has always
+been that. He has no respect for the law or property.
+He associates with the self-confessed murderer, Levins.
+He is a riotous, reckless, egotistical fool who, because
+the law stands in the way of his desires, wishes to
+trample it under foot and allow mob rule to take its
+place. Do you remember you mentioned that he once
+loved a woman named Hester Keyes? Well, he has
+brought Hester here&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She got up, her chin at a scornful angle. &#8220;I do not
+care to hear about his personal affairs.&#8221; She went out,
+mounted her horse, and rode slowly out the Bar B trail.
+From a window Corrigan watched her, and as she
+vanished into the distance he turned back to his desk,
+meditating darkly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison put Levins up to that. He&#8217;s showing
+yellow.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XX_AND_RIDES_AGAIN_IN_VAIN' id='XX_AND_RIDES_AGAIN_IN_VAIN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+<h3>AND RIDES AGAIN&mdash;IN VAIN</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Rosalind&#8217;s reflections as she rode toward the
+Bar B convinced her that there had been much
+truth in Corrigan&#8217;s arraignment of Trevison. Out of
+her own knowledge of him, and from his own admission
+to her on the day they had ridden to Blakeley&#8217;s
+the first time, she adduced evidence of his predilection
+for fighting, of his utter disregard for accepted authority&mdash;when
+that authority disagreed with his conception
+of justice; of his lawlessness when his desires were
+in question. His impetuosity was notorious, for it had
+earned him the sobriquet &#8220;Firebrand,&#8221; which he could
+not have acquired except through the exhibition of
+those traits that she had enumerated.</p>
+<p>She was disappointed and spiritless when she reached
+the ranchhouse, and very tired, physically. Agatha&#8217;s
+questions irritated her, and she ate sparingly of the
+food set before her, eager to be alone. In the isolation
+of her room she lay dumbly on the bed, and there the
+absurdity of Levins&#8217; story assailed her. It must be as
+Corrigan had said&mdash;her father was too great a man
+to descend to such despicable methods. She dropped
+off to sleep.</p>
+<p>When she awoke the sun had gone down, and her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+room was cheerless in the semi-dusk. She got up,
+washed, combed her hair, and much refreshed, went
+downstairs and ate heartily, Agatha watching her narrowly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are distraught, my dear,&#8221; ventured her relative.
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t think this country agrees with you.
+Has anything happened?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl answered evasively, whereat Agatha compressed
+her lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think that a trip East&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall not go home this summer!&#8221; declared Rosalind,
+vehemently. And noting the flash in the girl&#8217;s
+eyes, belligerent and defiant; her swelling breast, the
+warning brilliance of her eyes, misty with pent-up emotion,
+Agatha wisely subsided and the meal was finished
+in a strained silence.</p>
+<p>Later, Rosalind went out, alone, upon the porch
+where, huddled in a big rocker, she gazed gloomily at
+the lights of Manti, dim and distant. Something of
+the turmoil and the tumult of the town in its young
+strength and vigor, assailed her, contrasting sharply
+with the solemn peace of her own surroundings. Life
+had been a very materialistic problem to her, heretofore.
+She had lived it according to her environment,
+a mere onlooker, detached from the scheme of things.
+Something of the meaning of life trickled into her consciousness
+as she sat there watching the flickering lights
+of the town&mdash;something of the meaning of it all&mdash;the
+struggle of these new residents twanged a hidden
+chord of sympathy and understanding in her. She was
+able to visualize them as she sat there. Faces flashed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+before her&mdash;strong, stern, eager; the owner of each
+a-thrill with his ambition, going forward in the march
+of progress with definite aim, planning, plotting, scheming&mdash;some
+of them winning, others losing, but all
+obsessed with a feverish desire of success. The railroad,
+the town, the ranches, the new dam, the people&mdash;all
+were elements of a conflict, waged ceaselessly.
+She sat erect, her blood tingling. Blows were being
+struck, taken.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she cried, sharply; &#8220;it&#8217;s a game! It&#8217;s the
+spirit of the nation&mdash;to fight, to press onward, to
+win!&#8221; And in that moment she was seized with a
+throbbing sympathy for Trevison, and filled with a
+yearning that he might win, in spite of Corrigan, Hester
+Harvey, and all the others&mdash;even her father. For he
+was a courageous player of this &#8220;game.&#8221; In him was
+typified the spirit of the nation.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Rosalind might have added something to her thoughts
+had she known of the passions that filled Trevison
+when, while she sat on the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse,
+he mounted Nigger and sent him scurrying
+through the mellow moonlight toward Manti. He was
+playing the &#8220;game,&#8221; with justice as his goal. The
+girl had caught something of the spirit of it all, but
+she had neglected to grasp the all-important element
+of the relations between men, without which laws, rules,
+and customs become farcical and ridiculous. He was
+determined to have justice. He knew well that Judge
+Graney&#8217;s mission to Washington would result in failure
+unless the deed to his property could be recovered, or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
+the original record disclosed. Even then, with a weak
+and dishonest judge on the bench the issue might be
+muddled by a mass of legal technicalities. The court
+order permitting Braman to operate a mine on his property
+goaded him to fury.</p>
+<p>He stopped at Hanrahan&#8217;s saloon, finding Lefingwell
+there and talking with him for a few minutes.
+Lefingwell&#8217;s docile attitude disgusted him&mdash;he said he
+had talked the matter over with a number of the other
+owners, and they had expressed themselves as being in
+favor of awaiting the result of his appeal. He left
+Lefingwell, not trusting himself to argue the question
+of the man&#8217;s attitude, and went down to the station,
+where he found a telegram awaiting him. It was from
+Judge Graney:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Coming home. Case sent back to Circuit Court for hearing.
+Depend on you to get evidence.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Trevison crumpled the paper and shoved it savagely
+into a pocket. He stood for a long time on the station
+platform, in the dark, glowering at the lights of the
+town, then started abruptly and made his way into the
+gambling room of the <i>Plaza</i>, where he somberly
+watched the players. The rattle of chips, the whir of
+the wheel, the monotonous drone of the faro dealer,
+the hum of voices, some eager, some tense, others
+exultant or grumbling, the incessant jostling, irritated
+him. He went out the front door, stepped down into
+the street, and walked eastward. Passing an open space
+between two buildings he became aware of the figure
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+of a woman, and he wheeled as she stepped forward
+and grasped his arm. He recognized her and tried
+to pass on, but she clung to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trev!&#8221; she said, appealingly; &#8220;I want to talk
+with you. It&#8217;s very important&mdash;really. Just a minute,
+Trev. Won&#8217;t you talk <i>that</i> long! Come to my
+room&mdash;where&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Talk fast,&#8221; he admonished, holding her off,&#8220;&mdash;and
+talk here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She struggled with him, trying to come closer, twisting
+so that her body struck his, and the contact brought
+a grim laugh out of him. He seized her by the shoulders
+and held her at arm&#8217;s length. &#8220;Talk from there&mdash;it&#8217;s
+safer. Now, if you&#8217;ve anything important&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;O Trev&mdash;please&mdash;&#8221; She laughed, almost sobbing,
+but forced the tears back when she saw derision
+blazing in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told you it was all over!&#8221; He pushed her away
+and started off, but he had taken only two steps when
+she was at his side again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I saw you from my window, Trev. I&mdash;I knew it
+was you&mdash;I couldn&#8217;t mistake you, anywhere. I followed
+you&mdash;saw you go into the <i>Plaza</i>. I came to
+warn you. Corrigan has planned to goad you into doing
+some rash thing so that he will have an excuse to
+jail or kill you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where did you hear that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I just heard it. I was in the bank today, and
+I overheard him talking to a man&mdash;some officer, I
+think. Be careful, Trev&mdash;very careful, won&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Careful as I can,&#8221; he laughed, lowly. &#8220;Thank
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>
+you.&#8221; He started on again, and she grasped his arm.
+&#8220;Trev,&#8221; she pleaded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the use, Hester?&#8221; he said; &#8220;it can&#8217;t be.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, God bless you, anyway, dear,&#8221; she said chokingly.</p>
+<p>He passed on, leaving her in the shadows of the
+buildings, and walked far out on the plains. Making
+a circuit to avoid meeting the woman again, he skirted
+the back yards, stumbling over tin cans and debris in
+his progress. When he got to the shed where he had
+hitched Nigger he mounted and rode down the railroad
+tracks toward the cut, where an hour later he was
+joined by Clay Levins, who came toward him, riding
+slowly and cautiously.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Patrick Carson had wooed sleep unsuccessfully. For
+hours he lay on his cot in the tent, staring out through
+the flap at the stars. A vague unrest had seized him.
+He heard the hilarious din of Manti steadily decrease
+in volume until only intermittent noises reached his
+ears. But even when comparative peace came he was
+still wide awake.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll be gettin&#8217; the willies av I lay here much longer
+widout slape,&#8221; he confided to his pillow. &#8220;Mebbe a
+turn down the track wid me dujeen wud do the thrick.&#8221;
+He got up, lighted his pipe and strode off into the
+semi-gloom of the railroad track. He went aimlessly,
+paying little attention to objects around him. He passed
+the tents wherein the laborers lay&mdash;and smiled as
+heavy snores smote his ears. &#8220;They slape a heap
+harder than they worruk, bedad!&#8221; he observed, grinning.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+&#8220;Nothin&#8217; c&#8217;ud trouble a ginney&#8217;s conscience,
+annyway,&#8221; he scoffed. &#8220;But, accordin&#8217; to that they
+must be a heap on me own!&#8221; Which observation sent
+his thoughts to Corrigan. &#8220;Begob, there&#8217;s a man! A
+domned rogue, if iver they was one!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He passed the tents, smoking thoughtfully. He
+paused when he came to the small buildings scattered
+about at quite a distance from the tents, then left the
+tracks and made his way through the deep alkali dust
+toward them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whativer wud Corrigan be askin&#8217; about the dynamite
+for? &#8216;How much do ye kape av it?&#8217; he was askin&#8217;.
+As if it was anny av his business!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stopped puffing at his pipe and stood rigid, watching
+with bulging eyes, for he saw the door of the dynamite
+shed move outward several inches, as though someone
+inside had shoved it. It closed again, slowly, and
+Carson was convinced that he had been seen. He was
+no coward, but a cold sweat broke out on him and his
+knees doubled weakly. For any man who would visit
+the dynamite shed around midnight, in this stealthy
+manner, must be in a desperate frame of mind, and
+Carson&#8217;s virile imagination drew lurid pictures of a
+gun duel in which a stray shot penetrated the wall of
+the shed. He shivered at the roar of the explosion that
+followed; he even drew a gruesome picture of stretchers
+and mangled flesh that brought a groan out of him.</p>
+<p>But in spite of his mental stress he lunged forward,
+boldly, though his breath wheezed from his lungs in
+great gasps. His body lagged, but his will was indomitable,
+once he quit looking at the pictures of his imagination.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span>
+He was at the door of the shed in a dozen
+strides.</p>
+<p>The lock had been forced; the hasp was hanging, suspended
+from a twisted staple. Carson had no pistol&mdash;it
+would have been useless, anyway.</p>
+<p>Carson hesitated, vacillating between two courses.
+Should he return for help, or should he secrete himself
+somewhere and watch? The utter foolhardiness of
+attempting the capture of the prowler single handed
+assailed him, and he decided on retreat. He took one
+step, and then stood rigid in his tracks, for a voice
+filtered thinly through the doorway, hoarse, vibrant:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t forget the fuses.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson&#8217;s lips formed the word: &#8220;Trevison!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson&#8217;s breath came easier; his thoughts became
+more coherent, his recollection vivid; his sympathies
+leaped like living things. When his thoughts dwelt
+upon the scene at the butte during Trevison&#8217;s visit while
+the mining machinery was being erected&mdash;the trap that
+Corrigan had prepared for the man&mdash;a grim smile
+wreathed his face, for he strongly suspected what was
+meant by Trevison&#8217;s visit to the dynamite shed.</p>
+<p>He slipped cautiously around a corner of the shed,
+making no sound in the deep dust surrounding it, and
+stole back the way he had come, tingling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Begob, I&#8217;ll slape now&mdash;a little while!&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Carson vanished down the tracks a head was
+stuck out through the doorway of the shed and turned
+so that its owner could scan his surroundings.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All clear,&#8221; he whispered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get going, then,&#8221; said another voice, and two men,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+their faces muffled with handkerchiefs, bearing something
+that bulked their pockets oddly, slipped out of
+the door and fled noiselessly, like gliding shadows,
+down the track toward the cut.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Rosalind had been asleep in the rocker. A cool night
+breeze, laden with the strong, pungent aroma of sage,
+sent a shiver over her and she awoke, to see that the
+lights of Manti had vanished. An eerie lonesomeness
+had settled around her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, it must be nearly midnight!&#8221; she said. She
+got up, yawning, and stepped toward the door, wondering
+why Agatha had not called her. But Agatha
+had retired, resenting the girl&#8217;s manner.</p>
+<p>Almost to the door, Rosalind detected movement in
+the ghostly semi-light that flooded the plains between
+the porch and the picturesque spot, more than a mile
+away, on which Levins&#8217; cabin stood. She halted at the
+door and watched, and when the moving object resolved
+into a horse, loping swiftly, she strained her eyes toward
+it. At first it seemed to have no rider, but when it
+had approached to within a hundred yards of her,
+she gasped, leaped off the porch and ran toward the
+horse. An instant later she stood at the animal&#8217;s head,
+voicing her astonishment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, it&#8217;s Chuck Levins! Why on earth are you
+riding around at this hour of the night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sissy&#8217;s sick. Maw wants you to please come an&#8217;
+see what you can do&mdash;if it ain&#8217;t too much trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trouble?&#8221; The girl laughed. &#8220;I should say not!
+Wait until I saddle my horse!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p>
+<p>She ran to the porch and stole silently into the house,
+emerging with a small medicine case, which she stuck
+into a pocket of her coat. Once before she had had
+occasion to use her simple remedies on Sissy&mdash;an illness
+as simple as her remedies; but she could feel something
+of Mrs. Levins&#8217; concern for her offspring, and&mdash;and it
+was an ideal night for a gallop over the plains.</p>
+<p>It was almost midnight by the Levins&#8217; clock when
+she entered the cabin, and a quick diagnosis of her case
+with an immediate application of one of her remedies,
+brought results. At half past twelve Sissy was sleeping
+peacefully, and Chuck had dozed off, fully dressed,
+no doubt ready to re-enact his manly and heroic rôle
+upon call.</p>
+<p>It was not until Rosalind was ready to go that Mrs.
+Levins apologized for her husband&#8217;s rudeness to his
+guest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clay feels awfully bitter against Corrigan. It&#8217;s
+because Corrigan is fighting Trevison&mdash;and Trevison
+is Clay&#8217;s friend&mdash;they&#8217;ve been like brothers. Trevison
+has done so much for us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind glanced around the cabin. She had meant
+to ask Chuck why his father had not come on the midnight
+errand, but had forebore. &#8220;Mr. Levins isn&#8217;t
+here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clay went away about nine o&#8217;clock.&#8221; The woman
+did not meet Rosalind&#8217;s direct gaze; she flushed under
+it and looked downward, twisting her fingers in her
+apron. Rosalind had noted a strangeness in the woman&#8217;s
+manner when she had entered the cabin, but she
+had ascribed it to the child&#8217;s illness, and had thought
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
+nothing more of it. But now it burst upon her with
+added force, and when she looked up again Rosalind
+saw there was an odd, strained light in her eyes&mdash;a
+fear, a dread&mdash;a sinister something that she shrank
+from. Rosalind remembered the killing of Marchmont,
+and had a quick divination of impending trouble.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, Mrs. Levins? What has happened?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The woman gulped hard, and clenched her hands.
+Evidently, whatever her trouble, she had determined
+to bear it alone, but was now wavering.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell me, Mrs. Levins; perhaps I can help you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can!&#8221; The words burst sobbingly from the
+woman. &#8220;Maybe you can prevent it. But, oh, Miss
+Rosalind, I wasn&#8217;t to say anything&mdash;Clay told me not
+to. But I&#8217;m so afraid! Clay&#8217;s so hot-headed, and
+Trevison is so daring! I&#8217;m afraid they won&#8217;t stop at
+anything!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But what is it?&#8221; demanded Rosalind, catching
+something of the woman&#8217;s excitement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s about the machinery at the butte&mdash;the mining
+machinery. My God, you&#8217;ll never say I told you&mdash;will
+you? But they&#8217;re going to blow it up tonight&mdash;Clay
+and Trevison; they&#8217;re going to dynamite it! I&#8217;m
+afraid there will be murder done!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why didn&#8217;t you tell me before?&#8221; The girl stood
+rigid, white, breathless.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I ought to,&#8221; moaned the woman. &#8220;But I was
+afraid you&#8217;d tell&mdash;Corrigan&mdash;somebody&mdash;and&mdash;and
+they&#8217;d get into trouble with the law!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t tell&mdash;but I&#8217;ll stop it&mdash;if there&#8217;s time!
+For your sake. Trevison is the one to blame.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></p>
+<p>She inquired about the location of the butte; the
+shortest trail, and then ran out to her horse. Once in
+the saddle she drew a deep breath and sent the animal
+scampering into the flood of moonlight.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Down toward the cut the two men ran, and when they
+reached a gully at a distance of several hundred feet
+from the dynamite shed they came upon their horses.
+Mounting, they rode rapidly down the track toward the
+butte where the mining machinery was being erected.
+They had taken the handkerchiefs off while they ran,
+and now Trevison laughed with the hearty abandon of
+a boy whose mischievous prank has succeeded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was easy. I thought I heard a noise, though,
+when you backed against the door and shoved it open.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nobody usually monkeys around a dynamite shed
+at night,&#8221; returned Levins. &#8220;Whew! There&#8217;s enough
+of that stuff there to blow Manti to Kingdom Come&mdash;wherever
+that is.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They rode boldly across the level at the base of the
+butte, for they had reconnoitered after meeting on the
+plains just outside of town, and knew Corrigan had
+left no one on guard.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a cinch,&#8221; Levins declared as they dismounted
+from their horses in the shelter of a shoulder of the
+butte, about a hundred yards from where the corrugated
+iron building, nearly complete, loomed somberly
+on the level. &#8220;But if they&#8217;d ever get evidence that we
+done it&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison laughed lowly, with a grim humor that
+made Levins look sharply at him. &#8220;That abandoned
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+pueblo on the creek near your shack is built like a fortress,
+Levins.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What in hell has this job got to do with that dobie
+pile?&#8221; questioned the other.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Plenty. Oh, you&#8217;re curious, now. But I&#8217;m going
+to keep you guessing for a day or two.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll go loco&mdash;give you time,&#8221; scoffed Levins.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Somebody else will go crazy when this stuff lets
+go,&#8221; laughed Trevison, tapping his pockets.</p>
+<p>Levins snickered. They trailed the reins over the
+heads of their horses, and walked swiftly toward the
+corrugated iron building. Halting in the shadow of it,
+they held a hurried conference, and then separated,
+Trevison going toward the engine, already set up, with
+its flimsy roof covering it, and working around it for a
+few minutes, then darting from it to a small building
+filled with tools and stores, and to a pile of machinery
+and supplies stacked against the wall of the butte.
+They worked rapidly, elusive as shadows in the deep
+gloom of the wall of the butte, and when their work
+was completed they met in the full glare of the moonlight
+near the corrugated iron building and whispered
+again.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Lashing her horse over a strange trail, Rosalind
+Benham came to a thicket of gnarled fir-balsam and
+scrub oak that barred her way completely. She had
+ridden hard and her horse breathed heavily during the
+short time she spent looking about her. Her own
+breath was coming sharply, sobbing in her throat, but
+it was more from excitement than from the hazard
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>
+and labor of the ride, for she had paid little attention
+to the trail, beyond giving the horse direction, trusting
+to the animal&#8217;s wisdom, accepting the risks as a matter-of-course.
+It was the imminence of violence that had
+aroused her, the portent of a lawless deed that might
+result in tragedy. She had told Mrs. Levins that she
+was doing this thing for <i>her</i> sake, but she knew better.
+She <i>did</i> consider the woman, but she realized that her
+dominating passion was for the grim-faced young man
+who, discouraged, driven to desperation by the force of
+circumstances&mdash;just or not&mdash;was fighting for what he
+considered were his rights&mdash;the accumulated results of
+ten years of exile and work. She wanted to save him
+from this deed, from the results of it, even though
+there was nothing but condemnation in her heart for
+him because of it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To the left of the thicket is a slope,&#8221; Mrs. Levins
+had told her. She stopped only long enough to get her
+bearings, and at her panting, &#8220;Go!&#8221; the horse leaped.
+They were at the crest of the slope quickly, facing the
+bottom, yawning, deep, dark. She shut her eyes as
+the horse took it, leaning back to keep from falling
+over the animal&#8217;s head, holding tightly to the pommel
+of the saddle. They got down, someway, and when
+she felt the level under them she lashed the horse again,
+and urged him around a shoulder of the precipitous
+wall that loomed above her, frowning and somber.</p>
+<p>She heard a horse whinny as she flashed past the
+shoulder, her own beast tearing over the level with
+great catlike leaps, but she did not look back, straining
+her eyes to peer into the darkness along the wall
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span>
+of the butte for sight of the buildings and machinery.</p>
+<p>She saw them soon after passing the shoulder, and
+exclaimed her thanks sharply.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>&#8220;All set,&#8221; said one of the shadowy figures near the
+corrugated iron building. A match flared, was applied
+to a stick of punk in the hands of each man, and again
+they separated, each running, applying the glowing
+wand here and there.</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s work took him longest, and when he
+leaped from the side of a mound of supplies Levins
+was already running back toward the shoulder where
+they had left their horses. They joined, then split
+apart, their weapons leaping into their hands, for they
+heard the rapid drumming of horse&#8217;s hoofs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;re coming!&#8221; panted Trevison, his jaws setting
+as he plunged on toward the shoulder of the butte.
+&#8220;Run low and duck at the flash of their guns!&#8221; he
+warned Levins.</p>
+<p>A wide swoop brought the oncoming horse around
+the shoulder of the butte into full view. As the moonlight
+shone, momentarily, on the rider, Trevison cried
+out, hoarsely:</p>
+<p>&#8220;God, it&#8217;s a woman!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He leaped, at the words, out of the shadow of the
+butte into the moonlight of the level, straight into the
+path of the running horse, which at sight of him slid,
+reared and came to a halt, snorting and trembling. Trevison
+had recognized the girl; he flung himself at the
+horse, muttering: &#8220;Dynamite!&#8221; seized the beast by
+the bridle, forced its head around despite the girl&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span>
+objections and incoherent pleadings&mdash;some phrases of
+which sank home, but were disregarded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t!&#8221; she cried, fiercely, as he struck the animal
+with his fist to accelerate its movements. She was still
+crying to him, wildly, hysterically, as he got the animal&#8217;s
+head around and slapped it sharply on the hip,
+his pistol crashing at its heels.</p>
+<p>The frightened animal clattered over the back trail,
+Trevison running after it. He reached Nigger, flung
+himself into the saddle, and raced after Levins, who
+was already far down the level, following Rosalind&#8217;s
+horse. At a turn in the butte he came upon them both,
+their horses halted, the girl berating Levins, the man
+laughing lowly at her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t!&#8221; she cried to Trevison as he rode up.
+&#8220;Please, Trevison&mdash;don&#8217;t let <i>that</i> happen! It&#8217;s criminal;
+it&#8217;s outlawry!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Too late,&#8221; he said grimly, and rode close to her
+to grasp the bridle of her horse. Standing thus, they
+waited&mdash;an age, to the girl, in reality only a few
+seconds. Then the deep, solemn silence of the night
+was split by a hollow roar, which echoed and re-echoed
+as though a thousand thunder storms had centered over
+their heads. A vivid flash, extended, effulgent, lit the
+sky, the earth rocked, the canyon walls towering above
+them seemed to sway and reel drunkenly. The girl
+covered her face with her hands. Another blast smote
+the night, reverberating on the heels of the other; there
+followed another and another, so quickly that they
+blended; then another, with a distinct interval between.
+Then a breathless, unreal calm, through which distant
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>
+echoes rumbled; then a dead silence, shattered at last
+by a heavy, distant clatter, as though myriad big hailstones
+were falling on a pavement. And then another
+silence&mdash;the period of reeling calm after an earthquake.</p>
+<p>&#8220;O God!&#8221; wailed the girl; &#8220;it is horrible!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got to get out of here&mdash;the whole of
+Manti will be here in a few minutes! Come on!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He urged Nigger farther down the canyon, and up
+a rocky slope that brought them to the mesa. The
+girl was trembling, her breath coming gaspingly. He
+faced her as they came to a halt, pityingly, with a certain
+dogged resignation in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What brought you here? Who told you we were
+here?&#8221; he asked, gruffly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t matter!&#8221; She faced him defiantly. &#8220;You
+have outraged the laws of your country tonight! I
+hope you are punished for it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laughed, derisively. &#8220;Well, you&#8217;ve seen; you
+know. Go and inform your friends. What I have done
+I did after long deliberation in which I considered fully
+the consequences to myself. Levins wasn&#8217;t concerned
+in it, so you don&#8217;t need to mention his name. Your
+ranch is in that direction, Miss Benham.&#8221; He pointed
+southeastward, Nigger lunged, caught his stride in two
+or three jumps, and fled toward the southwest. His
+rider did not hear the girl&#8217;s voice; it was drowned in
+clatter of hoofs as he and Levins rode.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXI_ANOTHER_WOMAN_RIDES' id='XXI_ANOTHER_WOMAN_RIDES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+<h3>ANOTHER WOMAN RIDES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Trevison rode in to town the next morning. On
+his way he went to the edge of the butte overlooking
+the level, and looked down upon the wreck
+and ruin he had caused. Masses of twisted steel and
+iron met his gaze; the level was littered with debris,
+which a gang of men under Carson was engaged in
+clearing away; a great section of the butte had been
+blasted out, earth, rocks, sand, had slid down upon
+much of the wreckage, partly burying it. The utter
+havoc of the scene brought a fugitive smile to his lips.</p>
+<p>He saw Carson waving a hand to him, and he
+answered the greeting, noting as he did so that Corrigan
+stood at a little distance behind Carson, watching.
+Trevison did not give him a second look,
+wheeling Nigger and sending him toward Manti at a
+slow lope. As he rode away, Corrigan called to Carson.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your friend didn&#8217;t seem to be much surprised.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Carson turned, making a grimace while his back was
+yet toward Corrigan, but grinning broadly when he
+faced around.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t he now? I wasn&#8217;t noticin&#8217;. But, begorra,
+how c&#8217;ud he be surprised, whin the whole domned
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
+country was rocked out av its bed be the blast! Wud
+ye be expictin&#8217; him to fall over in a faint on beholdin&#8217;
+the wreck?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not he,&#8221; said Corrigan, coldly; &#8220;he&#8217;s got too
+much nerve for that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ain&#8217;t he, now!&#8221; Carson looked guilelessly at the
+other. &#8220;Wud ye be havin&#8217; anny idee who done it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s eyes narrowed. &#8220;No,&#8221; he said shortly,
+and turned away.</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s appearance in Manti created a stir. He
+had achieved a double result by his deed, for besides
+destroying the property and making it impossible for
+Corrigan to resume work for a considerable time, he
+had caused Manti&#8217;s interest to center upon him sharply,
+having shocked into the town&#8217;s consciousness a conception
+of the desperate battle that was being waged
+at its doors. For Manti had viewed the devastated
+butte early that morning, and had come away, seething
+with curiosity to get a glimpse of the man whom everybody
+secretly suspected of being the cause of it. Many
+residents of the town had known Trevison before&mdash;in
+half an hour after his arrival he was known to all.
+Public opinion was heavily in his favor and many approving
+comments were heard.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t blamin&#8217; him a heap,&#8221; said a man in the <i>Belmont</i>.
+&#8220;If things is as you say they are, there ain&#8217;t
+much more that a <i>man</i> could do!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The laws is made for the guys with the coin an&#8217;
+the pull,&#8221; said another, vindictively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; dynamite ain&#8217;t carin&#8217; who&#8217;s usin&#8217; it,&#8221; said another,
+slyly. Both grinned. The universal sympathy
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>
+for the &#8220;under dog&#8221; oppressed by Justice perverted
+or controlled, had here found expression.</p>
+<p>It was so all over Manti. Admiring glances followed
+Trevison; though he said no word concerning
+the incident; nor could any man have said, judging
+from the expression of his face, that he was elated.
+He had business in Manti&mdash;he completed it, and when
+he was ready to go he got on Nigger and loped out of
+town.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That man&#8217;s nerve is as cold as a naked Eskimo
+at the North Pole,&#8221; commented an admirer. &#8220;If I&#8217;d
+done a thing like that I&#8217;d be layin&#8217; low to see if any
+evidence would turn up against me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon there ain&#8217;t a heap of evidence,&#8221; laughed
+his neighbor. &#8220;I expect everybody knows he done it,
+but knowin&#8217; an&#8217; provin&#8217; is two different things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A mile out of town Trevison met Corrigan. The
+latter halted his horse when he saw Trevison and
+waited for him to come up. The big man&#8217;s face wore
+an ugly, significant grin.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You did a complete job,&#8221; he said, eyeing the other
+narrowly. &#8220;And there doesn&#8217;t seem to be any evidence.
+But look out! When a thing like that happens there&#8217;s
+always somebody around to see it, and if I can get evidence
+against you I&#8217;ll send you up for it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He noted a slight quickening of Trevison&#8217;s eyes at
+his mention of a witness, and a fierce exultation leaped
+within him.</p>
+<p>Trevison laughed, looking the other fairly between
+the eyes. Rosalind Benham hadn&#8217;t informed on him.
+However, the day was not yet gone.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Get your evidence before you try to do any bluffing,&#8221;
+he challenged. He spurred Nigger on, not looking
+back at his enemy.</p>
+<p>Corrigan rode to the laborers&#8217; tents, where he talked
+for a time with the cook. In the mess tent he stood
+with his back to a rough, pine-topped table, his hands
+on its edge. The table had not yet been cleared from
+the morning meal, for the cook had been interested in
+the explosion. He tried to talk of it with Corrigan,
+but the latter adroitly directed the conversation otherwise.
+The cook would have said they had a pleasant
+talk. Corrigan seemed very companionable this morning.
+He laughed a little; he listened attentively when
+the cook talked. After a while Corrigan fumbled in
+his pockets. Not finding a cigar, he looked eloquently
+at the cook&#8217;s pipe, in the latter&#8217;s mouth, belching much
+smoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a single cigar,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I&#8217;m dying for a
+taste of tobacco.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The cook took his pipe from his mouth and wiped
+the stem hastily on a sleeve. &#8220;If you don&#8217;t mind I&#8217;ve
+been suckin&#8217; on it,&#8221; he said, extending it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t deprive you of it for the world.&#8221; Corrigan
+shifted his position, looked down at the table and
+smiled. &#8220;Luck, eh?&#8221; he said, picking up a black brier
+that lay on the table behind him. &#8220;Got plenty of
+tobacco?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The cook dove for a box in a corner and returned
+with a cloth sack, bulging. He watched while Corrigan
+filled the pipe, and grinned while his guest was
+lighting it.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Carson&#8217;ll be ravin&#8217; today for forgettin&#8217; his pipe.
+He must have left it layin&#8217; on the table this mornin&#8217;&mdash;him
+bein&#8217; in such a rush to get down, to the explosion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Carson&#8217;s, eh?&#8221; Corrigan surveyed it with
+casual interest. &#8220;Well,&#8221; after taking a few puffs &#8220;&mdash;I&#8217;ll
+say for Carson that he knows how to take care of
+it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He left shortly afterward, laying the pipe on the
+table where he had found it. Five minutes later he was
+in Judge Lindman&#8217;s presence, leaning over the desk
+toward the other.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want you to issue a warrant for Patrick Carson.
+I want him brought in here for examination. Charge
+him with being an accessory before the fact, or anything
+that seems to fit the case. But throw him into
+the cooler&mdash;and keep him there until he talks. He
+knows who broke into the dynamite shed, and therefore
+he knows who did the dynamiting. He&#8217;s friendly
+with Trevison, and if we can make him admit he saw
+Trevison at the shed, we&#8217;ve got the goods. He warned
+Trevison the other day, when I had the deputies lined
+up at the butte, and I found his pipe this morning near
+the door of the dynamite shed. We&#8217;ll make him talk,
+damn him!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Banker Braman had closed the door between the
+front and rear rooms, pulled down the shades of the
+windows, lighted the kerosene lamp, and by its wavering
+flicker was surveying his reflection in the small mirror
+affixed to one of the walls of the building. He was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>
+pleased, as the fatuous self-complacence of his look
+indicated, and carefully, almost fastidiously dressed,
+and he could not deny himself this last look into the
+mirror, even though he was now five minutes late with
+his appointment. The five minutes threatened to
+become ten, for, in adjusting his tie-pin it slipped from
+his fingers, struck the floor and vanished, as though an
+evil fate had gobbled it.</p>
+<p>He searched for it frenziedly, cursing lowly, but none
+the less viciously. It was quite by accident that when
+his patience was strained almost to the breaking point,
+he struck his hand against a board that formed part
+of the partition between his building and the courthouse
+next door, and tore a huge chunk of skin from
+the knuckles. He paid little attention to the injury,
+however, for the agitating of the board disclosed the
+glittering recreant, and he pounced upon it with the
+precision of a hawk upon its prey, snarling triumphantly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll nail that damned board up, some day!&#8221; he
+threatened. But he knew he wouldn&#8217;t, for by lying on
+the floor and pulling the board out a trifle, he could get
+a clear view of the interior of the courthouse, and
+could hear quite plainly, in spite of the presence of a
+wooden box resting against the wall on the other side.
+And some of the things that Braman had already heard
+through the medium of the loose board were really
+interesting, not to say instructive, to him.</p>
+<p>He was ten minutes late in keeping his appointment.
+He might have been even later without being in danger
+of receiving the censure he deserved. For the lady
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span>
+received him in a loose wrapper and gracefully disordered
+hair, a glance at which made Braman gasp in
+unfeigned admiration.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s this?&#8221; he demanded with a pretense of
+fatherly severity, which he imagined became him very
+well in the presence of women. &#8220;Not ready yet, Mrs.
+Harvey?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The woman waved him to a chair with unsmiling
+unconcern; dropped into another, crossed her legs and
+leaned back in her chair, her hands folded across the
+back of her head, her sleeves, wide and flaring, sliding
+down below her elbows. She caught Braman&#8217;s burning
+stare of interest in this revelation of negligence,
+and smiled at him in faint derision.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m tired, Croft. I&#8217;ve changed my mind about
+going to the First Merchants&#8217; Ball. I&#8217;d much rather
+sit here and chin you&mdash;if you don&#8217;t mind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a bit!&#8221; hastily acquiesced the banker. &#8220;In
+fact, I like the idea of staying here much better. It is
+more private, you know.&#8221; He grinned significantly,
+but the woman&#8217;s smile of faint derision changed merely
+to irony, which held steadily, making Braman&#8217;s cheeks
+glow crimson.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, then,&#8221; she laughed, exulting in her power
+over him; &#8220;let&#8217;s get busy. What do you want to chin
+about?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you after I&#8217;ve wet my whistle,&#8221; said the
+banker, gayly. &#8220;I&#8217;m dry as a bone in the middle of
+the Sahara desert!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take mine &#8216;straight,&#8217;&#8221; she laughed.</p>
+<p>Braman rang a bell. A waiter with glasses and a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
+bottle appeared, entered, was paid, and departed, grinning
+without giving the banker any change from a ten
+dollar bill.</p>
+<p>The woman laughed immoderately at Braman&#8217;s wolfish
+snarl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Be a sport, Croft. Don&#8217;t begrudge a poor waiter
+a few honestly earned dollars!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And now, what has the loose-board telephone told
+you?&#8221; she asked, two hours later when flushed of face
+from frequent attacks on the bottle&mdash;Braman rather
+more flushed than she&mdash;they relaxed in their chairs
+after a tilt at poker in which the woman had been the
+victor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re sure you don&#8217;t care for Trevison any more&mdash;that
+you&#8217;re only taking his end of this because of
+what he&#8217;s been to you in the past?&#8221; demanded the
+banker, looking suspiciously at her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He told me he didn&#8217;t love me any more. I couldn&#8217;t
+want him after that, could I?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should think not.&#8221; Braman&#8217;s eyes glowed with
+satisfaction. But he hesitated, yielding when she
+smiled at him. &#8220;Damn it, I&#8217;d knife Corrigan for you!&#8221;
+he vowed, recklessly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Save Trevison&mdash;that&#8217;s all I ask. Tell me what
+you heard.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan suspects Trevison of blowing up the stuff
+at the butte&mdash;as everybody does, of course. He&#8217;s
+determined to get evidence against him. He found
+Carson&#8217;s pipe at the door of the dynamite shed this
+morning. Carson is a friend of Trevison&#8217;s. Corrigan
+is going to have Judge Lindman issue a warrant
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>
+for the arrest of Carson&mdash;on some charge&mdash;and
+they&#8217;re going to jail Carson until he talks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The woman cursed profanely, sharply. &#8220;That&#8217;s
+Corrigan&#8217;s idea of a square deal. He promised me
+that no harm should come to Trevison.&#8221; She got up
+and walked back and forth in the room, Braman watching
+her with passion lying naked in his eyes, his lips
+loose and moist.</p>
+<p>She stopped in front of him, finally. &#8220;Go home,
+Croft&mdash;there&#8217;s a good boy. I want to think.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s cruelty to animals,&#8221; he laughed in a strained
+voice. &#8220;But I&#8217;ll go,&#8221; he added at signs of displeasure
+on her face. &#8220;Can I see you tomorrow night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll let you know.&#8221; She held the door open for him,
+and permitted him to take her hand for an instant.
+He squeezed it hotly, the woman making a grimace of
+repugnance as she closed the door.</p>
+<p>Swiftly she changed from her loose gown to a simple,
+short-skirted affair, slipped on boots, a felt hat,
+gloves. Leaving the light burning, she slipped out into
+the hall and called to the waiter who had served her
+and Braman. By rewarding him generously she procured
+a horse, and a few minutes later she emerged
+from the building by a rear door, mounting the animal
+and sending it clattering out into the night.</p>
+<p>Twice she lost her way and rode miles before she
+recovered her sense of direction, and when she finally
+pulled the beast to a halt at the edge of the Diamond K
+ranchhouse gallery, midnight was not far away. The
+ranchhouse was dark. She smothered a gasp of disappointment
+as she crossed the gallery floor. She was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+about to hammer on the door when it swung open and
+Trevison stepped out, peered closely at her and laughed
+shortly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s you, eh?&#8221; he said. &#8220;I thought I told you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She winced at his tone, but it did not lessen her concern
+for him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t that, Trev! And I don&#8217;t care how you treat
+me&mdash;I deserve it! But I can&#8217;t see them punish you&mdash;for
+what you did last night!&#8221; She felt him start, his
+muscles stiffen.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Something has turned up, then. You came to warn
+me? What is it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You were seen last night! They&#8217;re going to
+arrest&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So she squealed, did she?&#8221; he interrupted. He
+laughed lowly, bitterly, with a vibrant disappointment
+that wrung the woman&#8217;s heart with sympathy. But her
+brain quickly grasped the significance of his words, and
+longing dulled her sense of honor. It was too good
+an opportunity to miss. &#8220;Bah! I expected it. She
+told me she would. I was a fool to dream otherwise!&#8221;
+He turned on Hester and grasped her by the shoulders,
+and her flesh deadened under his fingers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did she tell Corrigan?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221; The woman told the lie courageously, looking
+straight into his eyes, though she shrank at the
+fire that came into them as he released her and laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where did you get your information?&#8221; His voice
+was suddenly sullen and cold.</p>
+<p>&#8220;From Braman.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He started, and laughed in humorous derision.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Braman and Corrigan are blood brothers in this deal.
+You must have captivated the little sneak completely
+to make him lose his head like that!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did it for you, Trev&mdash;for you. Don&#8217;t you see?
+Oh, I despise the little beast! But he dropped a hint
+one day when I was in the bank, and I deliberately
+snared him, hoping I might be able to gain information
+that would benefit you. And I have, Trev!&#8221; she
+added, trembling with a hope that his hasty judgment
+might result to her advantage. And how near she
+had come to mentioning Carson&#8217;s name! If Trevison
+had waited for just another second before interrupting
+her! Fortune had played favorably into her hands
+tonight!</p>
+<p>&#8220;For you, boy,&#8221; she said, slipping close to him, sinuously,
+whispering, knowing the &#8220;she&#8221; he had mentioned
+<i>must</i> be Rosalind Benham. &#8220;Old friends are
+best, boy. At least they can be depended upon not to
+betray one. Trev; let me help you! I can, and I will!
+Why, I love you, Trev! And you need me, to help
+you fight these people who are trying to ruin you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t understand.&#8221; Trevison&#8217;s voice was cold
+and passionless. &#8220;It seems I can&#8217;t <i>make</i> you understand.
+I&#8217;m grateful for what you have done for me
+tonight&mdash;very grateful. But I can&#8217;t live a lie, woman.
+I don&#8217;t love you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you love a woman who has delivered you into
+the hands of your enemies,&#8221; she moaned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t help it,&#8221; he declared hoarsely. &#8220;I don&#8217;t
+deny it. I would love her if she sent me to the gallows,
+and stood there, watching me die!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></p>
+<p>The woman bowed her head, and dropped her hands
+listlessly to her sides. In this instant she was thinking
+almost the same words that Rosalind Benham had murmured
+on her ride to Blakeley&#8217;s, when she had discovered
+Trevison&#8217;s identity: &#8220;I wonder if Hester Keyes
+knows what she has missed.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXII_A_MAN_ERRS_AND_PAYS' id='XXII_A_MAN_ERRS_AND_PAYS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+<h3>A MAN ERRS&mdash;AND PAYS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>For a time Trevison stood on the gallery, watching
+the woman as she faded into the darkness toward
+Manti, and then he laughed mirthlessly and went into
+the house, emerging with a rifle and saddle. A few minutes
+later he rode Nigger out of the corral and headed
+him southwestward. Shortly after midnight he was
+at the door of Levins&#8217; cabin. The latter grinned with
+feline humor after they held a short conference.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right,&#8221; he said; &#8220;you don&#8217;t need any of
+the boys to help you pull <i>that</i> off&mdash;they&#8217;d mebbe go
+to actin&#8217; foolish an&#8217; give the whole snap away. Besides,
+I&#8217;m a heap tickled to be let in on that sort of a jamboree!&#8221;
+There followed an interval, during which
+his grin faded. &#8220;So she peached on you, eh? She
+told my woman she wouldn&#8217;t. That&#8217;s a woman, ain&#8217;t
+it? How&#8217;s a man to tell about &#8217;em?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a secret of my own that I am not ready to
+let you in on. Don&#8217;t tell your wife where you are going
+<i>tonight</i>.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t reckonin&#8217; to. I&#8217;ll be with you in a jiffy!&#8221;
+He vanished into the cabin, reappeared, ran to the stable,
+and rode out to meet Trevison. Together they
+were swallowed up by the plains.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></p>
+<p>At eight o&#8217;clock in the morning Corrigan came out
+of the dining-room of his hotel and stopped at the
+cigar counter. He filled his case, lit one, and stood
+for a moment with an elbow on the glass of the show
+case, smoking thoughtfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was quite an accident you had at your mine.
+Have you any idea who did it?&#8221; asked the clerk, watching
+him furtively.</p>
+<p>Corrigan glanced at the man, his lips curling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You might guess,&#8221; he said through his teeth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That fellow Trevison is a bad actor,&#8221; continued
+the clerk. &#8220;And say,&#8221; he went on, confidentially; &#8220;not
+that I want to make you feel bad, but the majority of
+the people of this town are standing with him in this
+deal. They think you are not giving the land-owners
+a square deal. Not that I&#8217;m &#8216;knocking&#8217; <i>you</i>,&#8221; the
+clerk denied, flushing at the dark look Corrigan threw
+him. &#8220;That&#8217;s merely what I hear. Personally, I&#8217;m
+for you. This town needs men like you, and it can
+get along without fellows like Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; smiled Corrigan, disgusted with the
+man, but feeling that it might be well to cultivate such
+ingratiating interest. &#8220;Have a cigar.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll go you. Yes, sir,&#8221; he added, when he had got
+the weed going; &#8220;this town can get along without any
+Trevisons. These sagebrush rummies out here give
+me a pain. What this country needs is less brute force
+and more brains!&#8221; He drew his shoulders erect as
+though convinced that he was not lacking in the particular
+virtue to which he had referred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are right,&#8221; smiled Corrigan, mildly. &#8220;Brains
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>
+are all important. A hotel clerk must be well supplied.
+I presume you see and hear a great many things that
+other people miss seeing and hearing.&#8221; Corrigan
+thought this thermometer of public opinion might have
+other information.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve said it! We&#8217;ve got to keep our wits about
+us. There&#8217;s very little escapes us.&#8221; He leered at Corrigan&#8217;s
+profile. &#8220;That&#8217;s a swell Moll in number
+eleven, ain&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you know about her?&#8221; Corrigan&#8217;s face
+was inexpressive.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh say now!&#8221; The clerk guffawed close to Corrigan&#8217;s
+ear without making the big man wink an eyelash.
+&#8220;You don&#8217;t mean to tell me that you ain&#8217;t <i>on</i>! I saw
+you steer to her room one night&mdash;the night she came
+here. And once or twice, since. But of course us
+hotel clerks don&#8217;t see anything! She is down on the
+register as Mrs. Harvey. But say! You don&#8217;t see
+any married women running around the country dressed
+like her!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She may be a widow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes, maybe she might. But she shows speed,
+don&#8217;t she?&#8221; He whispered. &#8220;You&#8217;re a pretty good
+friend of mine, now, and maybe if I&#8217;d give you a tip
+you&#8217;d throw something in my way later on&mdash;eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you might start a hotel here&mdash;or something.
+And I&#8217;m thinking of blowing this joint. This town&#8217;s
+booming, and it can stand a swell hotel in a few
+months.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re on&mdash;if I build a hotel. Shoot!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p>
+<p>The clerk leaned closer, whispering: &#8220;She receives
+other men. You&#8217;re not the only one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The clerk laughed, and made a funnel of one hand.
+&#8220;The banker across the street&mdash;Braman.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan bit his cigar in two, and slowly spat that
+which was left in his mouth into a cuspidor. He contrived
+to smile, though it cost him an effort, and his
+hands were clenched.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How many times has he been here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, several.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;When was he here last?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Last night.&#8221; The clerk laughed. &#8220;Looked half
+stewed when he left. Kinda hectic, too. Him and her
+must have had a tiff, for he left early. And after he&#8217;d
+gone&mdash;right away after&mdash;she sent one of the waiters
+out for a horse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Which way did she go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;West&mdash;I watched her; she went the back way,
+from here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan smiled and went out. The expression of
+his face was such as to cause the clerk to mutter,
+dazedly: &#8220;He didn&#8217;t seem to be a whole lot interested.
+I guess I must have sized him up wrong.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan stopped at his office in the bank, nodding
+curtly to Braman. Shortly afterward he got up and
+went to the courthouse. He had ordered Judge Lindman
+to issue a warrant for Carson the previous morning,
+and had intended to see that it was served. But a
+press of other matters had occupied his attention until
+late in the night.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></p>
+<p>He tried the front door of the courthouse, to find
+it locked. The rear door was also locked. He tried
+the windows&mdash;all were fastened securely. Thinking
+the Judge still sleeping he went back to his office and
+spent an hour going over some correspondence. At
+the end of that time he visited the courthouse again.
+Angered, he went around to the side and burst the
+flimsy door in, standing in the opening, glowering, for
+the Judge&#8217;s cot was empty, and the Judge nowhere to
+be seen.</p>
+<p>Corrigan stalked through the building, cursing. He
+examined the cot, and discovered that it had been slept
+in. The Judge must have risen early. Obviously,
+there was nothing to do but to wait. Corrigan did that,
+impatiently. For a long time he sat in the chair at
+his desk, watching Braman, studying him, scowling,
+rage in his heart. &#8220;If he&#8217;s up to any dirty work,
+I&#8217;ll choke him until his tongue hangs out a yard!&#8221; was
+a mental threat that he repeated many times. &#8220;But
+he&#8217;s just mush-headed over the woman, I guess&mdash;he&#8217;s
+that kind of a fool!&#8221;</p>
+<p>At ten o&#8217;clock Corrigan jumped on his horse and
+rode out to the butte where the laborers were working,
+clearing away the debris from the explosion. No one
+there had seen Judge Lindman. Corrigan rode back
+to town, fuming with rage. Finding some of the deputies
+he sent them out to search for the Judge. One
+by one they came in and reported their failure. At
+six-thirty, after the arrival of the evening train from
+Dry Bottom, Corrigan was sitting at his desk, his face
+black with wrath, reading for the third or fourth time
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>
+a letter that he had spread out on the desk before
+him:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mr. Jefferson Corrigan</span>:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I feel it is necessary for me to take a short rest.
+Recent excitement in Manti has left me very nervous
+and unstrung. I shall be away from Manti for about
+two weeks, I think. During my absence any pending
+litigation must be postponed, of course.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+<p>The letter was signed by Judge Lindman, and postmarked
+&#8220;Dry Bottom.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan got up after a while and stuffed the letter
+into a pocket. He went out, and when he returned,
+Braman had gone out also&mdash;to supper, Corrigan surmised.
+When the banker came in an hour later, Corrigan
+was still seated at his desk. The banker smiled
+at him, and Corrigan motioned to him.</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s voice was silky. &#8220;Where were you last
+night, Braman?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The banker&#8217;s face whitened; his thoughts became
+confused, but instantly cleared when he observed from
+the expression of the big man&#8217;s face that the question
+was, apparently, a casual one. But he drew his breath
+tremulously. One could never be sure of Corrigan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I spent the night here&mdash;in the back room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you didn&#8217;t see the Judge last night&mdash;or hear
+him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan drew the Judge&#8217;s letter from the pocket
+and passed it over to Braman, watching his face steadily
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span>
+as he read. He saw a quick stain appear in the
+banker&#8217;s cheeks, and his own lips tightened.</p>
+<p>The banker coughed before he spoke. &#8220;Wasn&#8217;t
+that a rather abrupt leave-taking?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;rather,&#8221; said Corrigan, dryly. &#8220;You didn&#8217;t
+hear him walking about during the night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re rather a heavy sleeper, eh? There is only
+a thin board partition between this building and the
+courthouse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He must have left after daylight. Of course, any
+noise he might have made after that I wouldn&#8217;t have
+noticed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, of course not,&#8221; said Corrigan, passionlessly.
+&#8220;Well&mdash;he&#8217;s gone.&#8221; He seemed to have dismissed
+the matter from his mind and Braman sighed with
+relief. But he watched Corrigan narrowly during the
+remainder of the time he stayed in the office, and when
+he went out, Braman shook a vindictive fist at his
+back.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Worry, damn you!&#8221; he sneered. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know
+what was in Judge Lindman&#8217;s mind, but I hope he
+never comes back! That will help to repay you for
+that knockdown!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Corrigan went over to the <i>Castle</i> and ate supper.
+He was preoccupied and deliberate, for he was trying
+to weave a complete fabric out of the threads of Braman&#8217;s
+visits to Hester Harvey; Hester&#8217;s ride westward,
+and Judge Lindman&#8217;s abrupt departure. He had a feeling
+that they were in some way connected.</p>
+<p>At a little after seven he finished his meal, went
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
+upstairs and knocked at the door of Hester Harvey&#8217;s
+room. He stepped inside when she opened the door,
+and stood, both hands in the pockets of his trousers,
+looking at her with a smile of repressed malignance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nice night for a ride, wasn&#8217;t it?&#8221; he said, his
+lips parting a very little to allow the words to filter
+through.</p>
+<p>The woman flashed a quick, inquiring look at him,
+saw the passion in his eyes, the gleam of malevolent
+antagonism, and she set herself against it. For her
+talk with Trevison last night had convinced her of the
+futility of hope. She had gone out of his life as a
+commonplace incident slips into the oblivion of yesteryear.
+Worse&mdash;he had refused to recall it. It hurt
+her, this knowledge&mdash;his rebuff. It had aroused cold,
+wanton passions in her&mdash;she had become a woman
+who did not care. She met Corrigan&#8217;s gaze with a
+look of defiant mockery.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Swell. I enjoyed every minute of it. Won&#8217;t you
+sit down?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He held himself back, grinning coldly, for the woman&#8217;s
+look had goaded him to fury.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said; &#8220;I&#8217;ll stand. I won&#8217;t be here a minute.
+You saw Trevison last night, eh? You warned
+him that I was going to have Carson arrested.&#8221; He
+had hazarded this guess, for it had seemed to him that
+it must be the solution to the mystery, and when he
+caught the quick, triumphant light in the woman&#8217;s eyes
+at his words he knew he had not erred.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she said; &#8220;I saw him, and I told him&mdash;what
+Braman told me.&#8221; She saw his eyes glitter and she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>
+laughed harshly. &#8220;That&#8217;s what you wanted to know,
+isn&#8217;t it, Jeff&mdash;what Braman told me? Well, you
+know it. I knew you couldn&#8217;t play square with me.
+You thought you could dupe me&mdash;<i>again</i>, didn&#8217;t you?
+Well, you didn&#8217;t, for I snared Braman and pumped
+him dry. He&#8217;s kept me posted on your movements;
+and his little board telephone&mdash;Ha, ha! that makes
+you squirm, doesn&#8217;t it? But it was all wasted effort&mdash;Trevison
+won&#8217;t have me&mdash;he&#8217;s through. And I&#8217;m
+through. I&#8217;m not going to try any more. I&#8217;m going
+back East, after I get rested. You fight it out with
+Trevison. But I warn you, he&#8217;ll beat you&mdash;and I
+wish he would! As for that beast, Braman, I wish&mdash;Ah,
+let him go, Jeff,&#8221; she advised, noting the cold fury
+in his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right,&#8221; he said with a dry laugh. &#8220;You
+and Braman have done well. It hasn&#8217;t done me any
+harm, and so we&#8217;ll forget about it. What do you say
+to having a drink&mdash;and a talk. As in old times,
+eh?&#8221; He seemed suddenly to have conquered his
+passion, but the queer twitching of his lips warned
+the woman, and when he essayed to move toward her,
+smiling pallidly, she darted to the far side of a stand
+near the center of the room, pulled out a drawer, produced
+a small revolver and leveled it at him, her eyes
+wide and glittering with menace.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stay where you are, Jeff!&#8221; she ordered. &#8220;There&#8217;s
+murder in your heart, and I know it. But I don&#8217;t intend
+to be the victim. I&#8217;ll shoot if you come one step
+nearer!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He smirked at her, venomously. &#8220;All right,&#8221; he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>
+said. &#8220;You&#8217;re wise. But get out of town on the next
+train.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll go when I get ready&mdash;you can&#8217;t scare me. Let
+me alone or I&#8217;ll go to Rosalind Benham and let her
+in on the whole scheme.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes you will&mdash;not,&#8221; he laughed. &#8220;If I know anything
+about you, you won&#8217;t do anything that would
+give Miss Benham to Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right; I&#8217;d rather see her married to you&mdash;that
+would be the refinement of cruelty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laughed sneeringly and stepped out of the door.
+Waiting a short time, the woman heard his step in the
+hall. Then she darted to the door, locked it, and leaned
+against it, panting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve done it now,&#8221; she murmured. &#8220;Braman&mdash;Well,
+it serves him right!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Corrigan stopped in the barroom and got a drink.
+Then he walked to the front door and stood in it for
+an instant, finally stepping down into the street. Across
+the street in the banking room he saw a thin streak
+of light gleaming through a crevice in the doorway
+that led from the banking room to the rear. The
+light told him that Braman was in the rear room.
+Selecting a moment when the street in his vicinity was
+deserted, Corrigan deliberately crossed, standing for
+a moment in the shadow of the bank building, looking
+around him. Then he slipped around the building and
+tapped cautiously on the rear door. An instant later
+he was standing inside the room, his back against the
+door.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
+Braman, arrayed as he had been the night before,
+had opened the door. He had been just ready to
+go when he heard Corrigan&#8217;s knock.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Going out, Croft?&#8221; said Corrigan pleasantly, eyeing
+the other intently. &#8220;All lit up, too! You&#8217;re getting
+to be a gay dog, lately.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was nothing in Corrigan&#8217;s bantering words
+to bring on that sudden qualm of sickening fear that
+seized the banker. He knew it was his guilt that had
+done it&mdash;guilt and perhaps a dread of Corrigan&#8217;s
+rage if he <i>should</i> learn of his duplicity. But that word
+&#8220;lately&#8221;! If it had been uttered with any sort of an
+accent he might have been suspicious. But it had come
+with the bantering ring of the others, with no hint
+of special significance. And Braman was reassured.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I&#8217;m going out.&#8221; He turned to the mirror on
+the wall. &#8220;I&#8217;m getting rather stale, hanging around
+here so much.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right, Croft. Have a good time. How
+much money is there in the safe?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two or three thousand dollars.&#8221; The banker
+turned from the glass. &#8220;Want some? Ha, ha!&#8221; he
+laughed at the other&#8217;s short nod; &#8220;there are other gay
+dogs, I guess! How much do you want?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All you&#8217;ve got?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All! Jehoshaphat! You must have a big deal on
+tonight!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, big,&#8221; said Corrigan evenly. &#8220;Get it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He followed the banker into the banking room, carefully
+closing the door behind him, so that the light
+from the rear room could not penetrate. &#8220;That&#8217;s all
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
+right,&#8221; he reassured the banker as the latter noticed
+the action; &#8220;this isn&#8217;t a public matter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stuffed his pockets with the money the banker
+gave him, and when the other tried to close the door
+of the safe he interposed a restraining hand, laughing:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Leave it open, Croft. It&#8217;s empty now, and a cracksman
+trying to get into it would ruin a perfectly good
+safe, for nothing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They went into the rear room again, Corrigan last,
+closing the door behind him. Braman went again to
+the glass, Corrigan standing silently behind him.</p>
+<p>Standing before the glass, the banker was seized
+with a repetition of the sickening fear that had
+oppressed him at Corrigan&#8217;s words upon his entrance.
+It seemed to him that there was a sinister significance
+behind Corrigan&#8217;s present silence. A tension came
+between them, portentous of evil. Braman shivered,
+but the silence held. The banker tried to think of
+something to say&mdash;his thoughts were rioting in chaos,
+a dumb, paralyzing terror had seized him, his lips
+stuck together, the facial muscles refusing their office.
+He dropped his hands to his sides and stared into the
+glass, noting the ghastly pallor that had come over
+his face&mdash;the dull, whitish yellow of muddy marble.
+He could not turn, his legs were quivering. He knew
+it was conscience&mdash;only that. And yet Corrigan&#8217;s
+ominous silence continued. And now he caught his
+breath with a shuddering gasp, for he saw Corrigan&#8217;s
+face reflected in the glass, looking over his shoulder&mdash;a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span>
+mirthless smirk on it, the eyes cold, and dancing with
+a merciless and cunning purpose. While he watched,
+he saw Corrigan&#8217;s lips open:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s the board telephone, Braman?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The banker wheeled, then. He tried to scream&mdash;the
+sound died in a gasping gurgle as Corrigan leaped
+and throttled him. Later, he fought to loosen the grip
+of the iron fingers at his throat, twisting, squirming,
+threshing about the room in his agony. The grip held,
+tightened. When the banker was quite still Corrigan
+put out the light, went into the banking room, where
+he scattered the papers and books in the safe all around
+the room. Then he twisted the lock off the door, using
+an iron bar that he had noticed in a corner when he
+had come in, and stepped out into the shadow of the
+building.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXIII_FIRST_PRINCIPLES' id='XXIII_FIRST_PRINCIPLES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+<h3>FIRST PRINCIPLES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Judge Lindman shivered, though a merciless,
+blighting sun beat down on the great stone ledge
+that spread in front of the opening, smothering him
+with heat waves that eddied in and out, and though the
+interior of the low-ceilinged chamber pulsed with the
+fetid heat sucked in from the plains generations before.
+The adobe walls, gray-black in the subdued light, were
+dry as powder and crumbling in spots, the stone floor
+was exposed in many places; there was a strange, sickening
+odor, as though the naked, perspiring bodies of
+inhabitants in ages past had soaked the walls and floor
+with the man-scent, and intervening years of disuse
+had mingled their musty breath with it. But for the
+presence of the serene-faced, steady-eyed young man who
+leaned carelessly against the wall outside, whose shoulder
+and profile he could see, the Judge might have
+yielded completely to the overpowering conviction that
+he was dreaming, and that his adventures of the past
+twelve hours were horrors of his imagination. But he
+knew from the young man&#8217;s presence at the door that
+his experience had been real enough, and the knowledge
+kept his brain out of the threatening chaos.</p>
+<p>Some time during the night he had awakened on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
+his cot in the rear room of the courthouse to hear a
+cold, threatening voice warning him to silence. He had
+recognized the voice, as he had recognized it once
+before, under similar conditions. He had been gagged,
+his hands tied behind him. Then he had been lifted,
+carried outside, placed on the back of a horse, in front
+of his captor, and borne away in the darkness. They
+had ridden many miles before the horse came to a halt
+and he was lifted down. Then he had been forced to
+ascend a sharp slope; he could hear the horse clattering
+up behind them. But he had not been able to see anything
+in the darkness, though he felt he was walking
+along the edge of a cliff. The walk had ended abruptly,
+when his captor had forced him into his present quarters
+with a gruff admonition to sleep. Sleep had come
+hard, and he had done little of it, napping merely, sitting
+on the stone floor, his back against the wall, most
+of the time watching his captor. He had talked some,
+asking questions which his captor ignored. Then a
+period of oblivion had come, and he had awakened to
+the sunshine. For an hour he had sat where he was,
+looking out at his captor and blinking at the brilliant
+sunshine. But he had asked no questions since awakening,
+for he had become convinced of the meaning of
+all this. But he was intensely curious, now.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where have you brought me?&#8221; he demanded of
+his jailor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re awake, eh?&#8221; Trevison grinned as he
+wheeled and looked in at his prisoner. &#8220;This,&#8221; he
+waved a hand toward the ledge and its surroundings,
+&#8220;is an Indian pueblo, long deserted. It makes an
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>
+admirable prison, Judge. It is also a sort of a fort.
+There is only one vulnerable point&mdash;the slope we came
+up last night. I&#8217;ll take you on a tour of examination,
+if you like. And then you must return here, to stay
+until you disclose the whereabouts of the original land
+record.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge paled, partly from anger, partly from a
+fear that gripped him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is an outrage, Trevison! This is America!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it?&#8221; The young man smiled imperturbably.
+&#8220;There have been times during the past few weeks
+when I doubted it, very much. It <i>is</i> America, though,
+but it is a part of America that the average American
+sees little of&mdash;that he knows little of. As little,
+let us say, as he knows of the weird application of its
+laws&mdash;as applied by <i>some</i> judges.&#8221; He smiled as
+Lindman winced. &#8220;I have given up hoping to secure
+justice in the regular way, and so we are in the midst
+of a reversion to first principles&mdash;which may lead
+us to our goal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That I <i>must</i> have the original record, Judge, I
+mean to have it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I deny&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;of course. Deny, if you like. We shan&#8217;t
+argue. Do you want to explore the place? There will
+be plenty of time for talk.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stepped aside as the Judge came out, and grinned
+broadly as he caught the Judge&#8217;s shrinking look at a
+rifle he took up as he turned. It had been propped
+against the wall at his side. He swung it to the hollow
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
+of his left elbow. &#8220;Your knowledge of firearms convinces
+you that you can&#8217;t run as fast as a rifle bullet,
+doesn&#8217;t it, Judge?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge&#8217;s face indicated that he understood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ever make the acquaintance of an Indian pueblo,
+Judge?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. I came West only a year ago, and I have kept
+pretty close to my work.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you&#8217;ll feel pretty intimate with this one by
+the time you leave it&mdash;if you&#8217;re obstinate,&#8221; laughed
+Trevison. He stood still and watched the Judge. The
+latter was staring hard at his surroundings, perhaps
+with something of the awed reverence that overtakes
+the tourist when for the first time he views an ancient
+ruin.</p>
+<p>The pueblo seemed to be nothing more than a jumble
+of adobe boxes piled in an indiscriminate heap on
+a gigantic stone level surmounting the crest of a hill.
+A sheer rock wall, perhaps a hundred feet in height,
+descended to the surrounding slopes; the latter sweeping
+down to join the plains. A dust, light, dry, and
+feathery lay thickly on the adobe boxes on the surrounding
+ledge on the slopes, like a gray ash sprinkled
+from a giant sifter. Cactus and yucca dotted the slopes,
+thorny, lancelike, repellent; lava, dull, hinting of volcanic
+fire, filled crevices and depressions, and huge
+blocks of stone, detached in the progress of disintegration,
+were scattered about.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It has taken ages for this to happen!&#8221; the Judge
+heard himself murmuring.</p>
+<p>Trevison laughed lowly. &#8220;So it has, Judge. Makes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>
+you think of your school days, doesn&#8217;t it? You hardly
+remember it, though. You have a hazy sort of recollection
+of a print of a pueblo in a geography, or in a
+geological textbook, but at the time you were more interested
+in Greek roots, the Alps, Louis Quinze, the heroes
+of mythology, or something equally foreign, and you
+forgot that your own country might hold something
+of interest for you. But the history of these pueblo
+towns must be pretty interesting, if one could get at
+it. All that I have heard of it are some pretty weird
+legends. There can be no doubt, I suppose, that the
+people who inhabited these communal houses had laws
+to govern them&mdash;and judges to apply the laws. And
+I presume that then, as now, the judges were swayed
+by powerful influences in&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge glared at his tormentor. The latter
+laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is reasonable to presume, too,&#8221; he went on,
+&#8220;that in some cases the judges rendered some pretty
+raw decisions. And carrying the supposition further,
+we may believe that then, as now, the poor downtrodden
+proletariat got rather hot under the collar. There
+are always some hot-tempered fools among all classes
+and races that do, you know. They simply can&#8217;t stand
+the feel of the iron heel of the oppressor. Can you
+picture a hot-tempered fool of that tribe abducting a
+judge of the court of his people and carrying him away
+to some uninhabited place, there to let him starve until
+he decided to do the right thing?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Starve!&#8221; gasped the Judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The chambers and tunnels connecting these communal
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>
+houses&mdash;they look like mud boxes, don&#8217;t they,
+Judge? And there isn&#8217;t a soul in any of them&mdash;nor a
+bite to eat! As I was about to remark, the chambers
+and tunnels and the passages connecting these places
+are pretty bare and cheerless&mdash;if we except scorpions,
+horned toads, centipedes, tarantulas&mdash;and other
+equally undesirable occupants. Not a pleasant place
+to sojourn in until&mdash;How long can a man live without
+eating, Judge? You know, of course, that the
+Indians selected an elevated and isolated site, such as
+this, because of its strategical advantages? This makes
+an ideal fort. Nobody can get into it except by negotiating
+the slope we came up last night. And a rifle
+in the hands of a man with a yearning to use it would
+make <i>that</i> approach pretty unsafe, wouldn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God!&#8221; moaned the Judge; &#8220;you talk like a
+man bereft of his senses!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Or like a man who is determined not to be robbed
+of his rights,&#8221; added Trevison. &#8220;Well, come along.
+We won&#8217;t dwell on such things if they depress you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He took the Judge&#8217;s arm and escorted him. They
+circled the broad stone ledge. It ran in wide, irregular
+sweeps in the general outline of a huge circle, surrounded
+by the dust-covered slopes melting into the
+plains, so vast that the eye ached in an effort to comprehend
+them. Miles away they could see smoke
+befouling the blue of the sky. The Judge knew the
+smoke came from Manti, and he wondered if Corrigan
+were wondering over his disappearance. He mentioned
+that to Trevison, and the latter grinned faintly
+at him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I forgot to mention that to you. It was all
+arranged last night. Clay Levins went to Dry Bottom
+on a night train. He took with him a letter, which
+he was to mail at Dry Bottom, explaining your absence
+to Corrigan. Needless to say, your signature was
+forged. But I did so good a job that Corrigan will
+not suspect. Corrigan will get the letter by tonight.
+It says that you are going to take a long rest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge gasped and looked quickly at Trevison.
+The young man&#8217;s face was wreathed in a significant
+grin.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the first analysis, this looks like a rather strange
+proceeding,&#8221; said Trevison. &#8220;But if you get deeper
+into it you see its logic. You know where the original
+record is. I want it. I mean to have it. One life&mdash;a
+dozen lives&mdash;won&#8217;t stop me. Oh, well, we won&#8217;t
+talk about it if you&#8217;re going to shudder that way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He led the Judge up a flimsy, rotted ladder to a
+flat roof, forcing him to look into a chamber where
+vermin fled at their appearance. Then through numerous
+passages, low, narrow, reeking with a musty odor
+that nauseated the Judge; on narrow ledges where they
+had to hug the walls to keep from falling, and then
+into an open court with a stone floor, stained dark, in
+the center a huge oblong block of stone, surmounting
+a pyramid, appalling in its somber suggestiveness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The sacrificial altar,&#8221; said Trevison, grimly.
+&#8220;These stains here, are&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stopped, for the Judge had turned his back.</p>
+<p>Trevison led him away. He had to help him down
+the ladder each time they descended, and when they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span>
+reached the chamber from which they had started the
+Judge was white and shaking.</p>
+<p>Trevison pushed him inside and silently took a position
+at the door. The Judge sank to the floor of the
+chamber, groaning.</p>
+<p>The hours dragged slowly. Trevison changed his
+position twice. Once he went away, but returned in
+a few minutes with a canteen, from which he drank,
+deeply. The Judge had been without food or water
+since the night before, and thirst tortured him. The
+gurgle of the water as it came out of the canteen, maddened
+him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d like a drink, Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course. Any man would.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;May I have one?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The minute you tell me where that record is.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge subsided. A moment later Trevison&#8217;s
+voice floated into the chamber, cold and resonant:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think you&#8217;re in this thing for money, Judge.
+Corrigan has some sort of a hold on you. What is it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge did not answer.</p>
+<p>The sun climbed to the zenith. It grew intensely hot
+in the chamber. Twice during the afternoon the Judge
+asked for water, and each time he received the answer
+he had received before. He did not ask for food, for
+he felt it would not be given him. At sundown his captor
+entered the chamber and gave him a meager draught
+from the canteen. Then he withdrew and stood on
+the ledge in front of the door, looking out into the
+darkening plains, and watching him, a conviction of the
+futility of resisting him seized the Judge. He stood
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+framed in the opening of the chamber, the lines of his
+bold, strong face prominent in the dusk, the rifle held
+loosely in the crook of his left arm, the right hand
+caressing the stock, his shoulders squared, his big, lithe,
+muscular figure suggesting magnificent physical strength,
+as the light in his eyes, the set of his head and the firm
+lines of his mouth, brought a conviction of rare courage
+and determination. The sight of him thrilled the
+Judge; he made a picture that sent the Judge&#8217;s thoughts
+skittering back to things primitive and heroic. In an
+earlier day the Judge had dreamed of being like him,
+and the knowledge that he had fallen far short of
+realizing his ideal made him shiver with self-aversion.
+He stifled a moan&mdash;or tried to and did not succeed,
+for it reached Trevison&#8217;s ears and he turned quickly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you call, Judge?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes!&#8221; whispered the Judge, hoarsely. &#8220;I
+want&mdash;to tell you everything! I have longed to tell
+you all along!&#8221;</p>
+<p>An hour later they were sitting on the edge of the
+ledge, their feet dangling, the abyss below them, the
+desert stars twinkling coldly above them; around them
+the indescribable solitude of a desert night filled with
+mystery, its vague, haunting, whispering voice burdened
+with its age-old secrets. Trevison had an arm around
+the Judge&#8217;s shoulder. Their voices mingled&mdash;the
+Judge&#8217;s low, quavering; Trevison&#8217;s full, deep, sympathetic.</p>
+<p>After a while a rider appeared out of the starlit
+haze of the plains below them. The Judge started.
+Trevison laughed.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Clay Levins, Judge. I&#8217;ve been watching him
+for half an hour. He&#8217;ll stay here with you while I
+go after the record. Under the bottom drawer, eh?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Levins hallooed to them. Trevison answered, and
+he and the Judge walked forward to meet Levins at
+the crest of the slope.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Slicker&#8217;n a whistle!&#8221; declared Levins, answering
+the question Trevison put to him. &#8220;I mailed the damn
+letter an&#8217; come back on the train that brought it to
+him!&#8221; He grinned felinely at the Judge. &#8220;I reckon
+you&#8217;re a heap dry an&#8217; hungry by this time?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Judge has feasted,&#8221; said Trevison. &#8220;I&#8217;m
+going after the record. You&#8217;re to stay here with the
+Judge until I return. Then the three of us will ride
+to Las Vegas, where we will take a train to Santa Fe,
+to turn the record over to the Circuit Court.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sounds good!&#8221; gloated Levins. &#8220;But it&#8217;s too long
+around. I&#8217;m for somethin&#8217; more direct. Why not take
+the Judge with you to Manti, get the record, takin&#8217; a
+bunch of your boys with you&mdash;an&#8217; salivate that damned
+Corrigan an&#8217; his deputies!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison laughed softly. &#8220;I don&#8217;t want any violence
+if I can avoid it. My land won&#8217;t run away while
+we&#8217;re in Santa Fe. And the Judge doesn&#8217;t want to meet
+Corrigan just now. I don&#8217;t know that I blame him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s the record?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison told him, and Levins grumbled. &#8220;Corrigan&#8217;ll
+have his deputies guardin&#8217; the courthouse, most
+likely. If you run ag&#8217;in &#8217;em, they&#8217;ll bore you, sure as
+hell!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take care of myself&mdash;I promise you that!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
+he laughed, and the Judge shuddered at the sound. He
+vanished into the darkness of the ledge, returning presently
+with Nigger, led him down the slope, called a
+low &#8220;So-long&#8221; to the two watchers on the ledge, and
+rode away into the haze of the plains.</p>
+<p>Trevison rode fast, filled with a grim elation. He
+pitied the Judge. An error&mdash;a momentary weakening
+of moral courage&mdash;had plunged the jurist into
+the clutches of Corrigan; he could hardly be held responsible
+for what had transpired&mdash;he was a puppet in the
+hands of an unscrupulous schemer, with a threat of
+exposure hanging over him. No wonder he feared
+Corrigan! Trevison&#8217;s thoughts grew bitter as they
+dwelt upon the big man; the old longing to come into
+violent physical contact with the other seized him, raged
+within him, brought a harsh laugh to his lips as he rode.
+But a greater passion than he felt for the Judge or
+Corrigan tugged at him as he urged the big black over
+the plains toward the twinkling lights of Manti&mdash;a
+fierce exultation which centered around Rosalind Benham.
+She had duped him, betrayed him to his enemy,
+had played with him&mdash;but she had lost!</p>
+<p>Yet the thought of his coming victory over her was
+poignantly unsatisfying. He tried to picture her&mdash;did
+picture her&mdash;receiving the news of Corrigan&#8217;s defeat,
+and somehow it left him with a feeling of regret. The
+vengeful delight that he should have felt was absent&mdash;he
+felt sorry for her. He charged himself with being
+a fool for yielding to so strange a sentiment, but it
+lingered persistently. It fed his rage against Corrigan,
+however, doubled it, for upon him lay the blame.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p>
+<p>It was late when he reached the outskirts of Manti.
+He halted Nigger in the shadow of a shed a hundred
+yards or so down the track from the courthouse, dismounted
+and made his way cautiously down the railroad
+tracks. He was beyond the radius of the lights
+from various windows that he passed, but he moved
+stealthily, not knowing whether Corrigan had stationed
+guards about the courthouse, as Levins had warned.
+An instant after reaching a point opposite the courthouse
+he congratulated himself on his discretion, for he
+caught a glimmer of light at the edge of a window shade
+in the courthouse, saw several indistinct figures congregated
+at the side door, outside. He slipped behind
+a tool shed at the side of the track, and crouching there,
+watched and listened. A mumbling of voices reached
+him, but he could distinguish no word. But it was
+evident that the men outside were awaiting the reappearance
+of one of their number who had gone into
+the building.</p>
+<p>Trevison watched, impatiently. Then presently the
+side door opened, letting out a flood of light, which
+bathed the figures of the waiting men. Trevison
+scowled, for he recognized them as Corrigan&#8217;s deputies.
+But he was not surprised, for he had half expected
+them to be hanging around the building. Two figures
+stepped down from the door as he watched, and he
+knew them for Corrigan and Gieger. Corrigan&#8217;s voice
+reached him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The lock on this door is broken. I had to kick it
+in this morning. One of you stay inside, here. The
+rest of you scatter and keep your eyes peeled. There&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span>
+trickery afoot. Judge Lindman didn&#8217;t go to Dry Bottom&mdash;the
+agent says he&#8217;s sure of that because he saw
+every man that&#8217;s got aboard a train here within the
+last twenty-four hours&mdash;and Judge Lindman wasn&#8217;t
+among them! Levins was, though; he left on the one-thirty
+this morning and got back on the six-o&#8217;clock,
+tonight.&#8221; He vanished into the darkness beyond the
+door, but called back: &#8220;I&#8217;ll be within call. Don&#8217;t
+be afraid to shoot if you see anything suspicious!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison saw a man enter the building, and the
+light was blotted out by the closing of the door. When
+his eyes were again accustomed to the darkness he
+observed that the men were standing close together&mdash;they
+seemed to be holding a conference. Then the
+group split up, three going toward the front of the
+building; two remaining near the side door, and two
+others walking around to the rear.</p>
+<p>For an instant Trevison regretted that he had not
+taken Levins&#8217; advice about forming a posse of his
+own men to take the courthouse by storm, and he
+debated the thought of postponing action. But there
+was no telling what might happen during an interval
+of delay. In his rage over the discovery of the trick
+that had been played on him Corrigan might tear the
+interior of the building to pieces. He would be sure
+to if he suspected the presence of the original record.
+Trevison did not go for the help that would have been
+very welcome. Instead, he spent some time twirling
+the cylinder of his pistol.</p>
+<p>He grew tired of crouching after a time and lay
+flat on his stomach in the shadow of the tool shed,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span>
+watching the men as they tramped back and forth,
+around the building. He knew that sooner or later
+there would be a minute or two of relaxation, and of
+this he had determined to take advantage. But it was
+not until sound in the town had perceptibly decreased
+in volume that there was any sign of the men relaxing
+their vigil. And then he noted them congregating
+at the front of the building.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hell,&#8221; he heard one of them say; &#8220;what&#8217;s the
+use of hittin&#8217; that trail <i>all</i> night! Bill&#8217;s inside, an&#8217; we
+can see the door from here. I&#8217;m due for a smoke an&#8217;
+a palaver!&#8221; Matches flared up; the sounds of their
+voices reached Trevison.</p>
+<p>Trevison disappointedly relaxed. Then, filled with
+a sudden decision, he slipped around the back of the
+tool shed and stole toward the rear of the courthouse.
+It projected beyond the rear of the bank building,
+adjoining it, forming an L, into the shadow of which
+Trevison slipped. He stood there for an instant, breathing
+rapidly, undecided. The darkness in the shadow
+was intense, and he was forced to feel his way along
+the wall for fear of stumbling. He was leaning heavily
+on his hands, trusting to them rather than to his
+footing, when the wall seemed to give way under them
+and he fell forward, striking on his hands and knees.
+Fortunately, he had made no sound in falling, and he
+remained in the kneeling position until he got an idea
+of what had happened. He had fallen across the
+threshold of a doorway. The door had been unfastened
+and the pressure of his hands had forced it inward.
+It was the rear door of the bank building. He looked
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+inward, wondering at Braman&#8217;s carelessness&mdash;and
+stared fixedly straight into a beam of light that shone
+through a wedge-shaped crevice between two boards
+in the partition that separated the buildings.</p>
+<p>He got up silently, stepped stealthily into the room,
+closing the door behind him. He tried to fasten it
+and discovered that the lock was broken. For some
+time he stood, wondering, and then, giving it up, he
+made his way cautiously around the room, searching
+for Braman&#8217;s cot. He found that, too, empty, and he
+decided that some one had broken into the building
+during Braman&#8217;s absence. Moving away from the cot,
+he stumbled against something soft and yielding, and
+his pistol flashed into his hand in sinister preparation,
+for he knew from the feel of the soft object that it
+was a body, and he suspected that it was Braman, stalking
+him. He thought that until he remembered the
+broken lock, on the door, and then the significance of
+it burst upon him. Whoever had broken the lock had
+fixed Braman. He knelt swiftly and ran his hands
+over the prone form, drawing back at last with the low
+ejaculation: &#8220;He&#8217;s a goner!&#8221; He had no time or
+inclination to speculate over the manner of Braman&#8217;s
+death, and made catlike progress toward the crevice in
+the partition. Reaching it, he dropped on his hands
+and knees and peered through. A wooden box on the
+other side of the partition intervened, but above it he
+could see the form of the deputy. The man was
+stretched out in a chair, sideways to the crevice in the
+wall, sleeping. A grin of huge satisfaction spread over
+Trevison&#8217;s face.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></p>
+<p>His movements were very deliberate and cautious.
+But in a quarter of an hour he had pulled the board
+out until an opening was made in the partition, and
+then propping the board back with a chair he reached
+through and slowly shoved the box on the other side
+back far enough to admit his body. Crawling through,
+he rose on the other side, crossed the floor carefully,
+kneeled at the drawer where Judge Lindman had concealed
+the record, pulled it out and stuck it in the waistband
+of his trousers, in front, his eyes glittering with
+exultation. Then he began to back toward the opening
+in the partition. At the instant he was preparing
+to stoop to crawl back into the bank building, the deputy
+in the chair yawned, stretched and opened his eyes,
+staring stupidly at him. There was no mistaking the
+dancing glitter in Trevison&#8217;s eyes, no possible misinterpretation
+of his tense, throaty whisper: &#8220;One chirp
+and you&#8217;re a dead one!&#8221; And the deputy stiffened in
+the chair, dumb with astonishment and terror.</p>
+<p>The deputy had not seen the opening in the partition,
+for it was partly hidden from his view by the box
+which Trevison had encountered in entering, and before
+the man had an opportunity to look toward the place,
+Trevison commanded him again, in a sharp, cold whisper:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get up and turn your back to me&mdash;quick! Any
+noise and I&#8217;ll plug you! Move!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The deputy obeyed. Then he received an order to
+walk to the door without looking back. He readied
+the door&mdash;halted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now open it and get out!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></p>
+<p>The man did as bidden; diving headlong out into
+the darkness, swinging the door shut behind him. His
+yell to his companions mingled with the roar of Trevison&#8217;s
+pistol as he shattered the kerosene lamp. The
+bullet hit the neck of the glass bowl, a trifle below the
+burner, the latter describing a parabola in the air and
+falling into the ruin of the bowl. The chimney crashed,
+the flame from the wick touched the oil and flared up
+brilliantly.</p>
+<p>Trevison was half way through the wall by the time
+the oil ignited, and he grinned coldly at the sight. Haste
+was important now. He slipped through the opening,
+pulled the chair from between the board and wall,
+letting the board snap back, and placing the chair
+against it. He felt certain that the deputies would
+think that in some manner he had run their barricade
+and entered the building through the door.</p>
+<p>He heard voices outside, a fusillade of shots, the
+tinkle of breaking glass; against the pine boards at his
+side came the wicked thud of bullets, the splintering of
+wood as they tore through the partition and embedded
+themselves in the outside wall. He ducked low and ran
+to the rear door, swinging it open. Braman&#8217;s body
+bothered him; he could not leave it there, knowing the
+building would soon be in flames. He dragged the
+body outside, to a point several feet distant from the
+building, dropping it at last and standing erect for the
+first time to fill his lungs and look about him. Looking
+back as he ran down the tracks toward the shed where
+he had left Nigger, he saw shadowy forms of men
+running around the courthouse, which was now dully
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
+illuminated, the light from within dancing fitfully
+through the window shades. Flaming streaks rent the
+night from various points&mdash;thinking him still in the
+building the deputies were shooting through the windows.
+Manti, rudely awakened, was pouring its population
+through its doors in streams. Shouts, hoarse,
+inquisitive, drifted to Trevison&#8217;s ears. Lights blazed
+up, flickering from windows like giant fireflies. Doors
+slammed, dogs were barking, men were running. Trevison
+laughed vibrantly as he ran. But his lips closed
+tightly when he saw two or three shadowy figures darting
+toward him, coming from various directions&mdash;one
+from across the street; another coming straight down
+the railroad track, still another advancing from his
+right. He bowed his head and essayed to pass the first
+figure. It reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder,
+arresting his flight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s up?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let go, you damned fool!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man still clung to him. Trevison wrenched
+himself free and struck, viciously. The man dropped
+with a startled cry. Another figure was upon Trevison.
+He wanted no more trouble at that minute.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hell to pay!&#8221; he panted as the second man loomed
+close to him in the darkness; &#8220;Trevison&#8217;s in the courthouse!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He heard the other gasp; saw him lunge forward.
+He struck again, bitterly, and the man went to his
+knees. He was up again instantly, as Trevison fled into
+the darkness, crying resonantly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This way, boys&mdash;here he is!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan!&#8221; breathed Trevison. He ducked as a
+flame-spurt split the night; reaching a corner of the
+shed where he had left his horse as a succession of
+reports rattled behind him. Corrigan was firing at him.
+He dared not use his own pistol, lest its flash reveal his
+whereabouts, and he knew he would have no chance
+against the odds that were against him. Nor was he
+intent on murder. He flung himself into the saddle,
+and for the first time since he had come into Trevison&#8217;s
+possession Nigger knew the bite of spurs earnestly
+applied. He snorted, leaped, and plunged forward,
+the clatter of his hoofs bringing lancelike streaks of
+fire out of the surrounding blackness. Behind him
+Trevison heard Corrigan raging impotently, profanely.
+There came another scattering volley. Trevison reeled,
+caught himself, and then hung hard to the saddle-horn,
+as Nigger fled into the night, running as a coyote runs
+from the daylight.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXIV_ANOTHER_WOMAN_LIES' id='XXIV_ANOTHER_WOMAN_LIES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+<h3>ANOTHER WOMAN LIES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Shortly before midnight Aunt Agatha Benham
+laid her book down, took off her glasses, wiped
+her eyes and yawned. She sat for a time stretched out
+in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, meditatively
+looking at the flicker of the kerosene lamp, thinking
+of the conveniences she had given up in order to chaperon
+a wilful girl who did not appreciate her services.
+It was the selfishness of youth, she decided&mdash;nothing
+less. But still Rosalind might understand what a sacrifice
+her aunt was making for her. Thrilling with self-pity,
+she got up, blew out the light and ascended the
+stairs to her room. She plumped herself in a chair
+at one of the front windows before beginning to
+undress, that she might again feel the delicious thrill,
+for that was the only consolation she got from a contemplation
+of her sacrifice, Rosalind never offered her
+a word of gratitude!</p>
+<p>The thrill she anticipated was not the one she experienced&mdash;it
+was a thrill of apprehension that seized her&mdash;for
+a glowing midnight sky met her gaze as she
+stared in the direction of Manti, vast, extensive. In
+its center, directly over the town, was a fierce white
+glare with off-shoots of licking, leaping tongues of
+flame that reached skyward hungrily.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span></p>
+<p>Agatha watched for one startled instant, and then
+she was in Rosalind&#8217;s room, leaning over the bed, shaking
+her. The girl got up, dressed in her night clothes,
+and together they stood at one of the windows in the
+girl&#8217;s room, watching.</p>
+<p>The fierce white center of the fire seemed to expand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a fire&mdash;in Manti!&#8221; said the girl. &#8220;See!
+Another building has caught! Oh, I <i>do</i> hope they
+can put it out!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They stood long at the window. Once, when the
+glow grew more brilliant, the girl exclaimed sharply,
+but after a time the light began to fade, and she drew
+a breath of relief.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They have it under control,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, come to bed,&#8221; advised Agatha.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait!&#8221; said the girl. She pressed her face against
+the window and peered intently into the darkness. Then
+she threw up the sash, stuck her head out and listened.
+She drew back, her face slowly whitening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some one is coming, Aunty&mdash;and riding very
+fast!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A premonition of tragedy, associated with the fire,
+had seized the girl at her first glimpse of the light,
+though she had said nothing. The appearance of a
+rider, approaching the house at breakneck speed had
+added strength to her fears, and now, driven by the
+urge of apprehension that had seized her she flitted out
+of the room before Agatha could restrain her, and was
+down in the sitting-room in an instant, applying a match
+to the lamp. As the light flared up she heard the thunder
+of hoofs just outside the door, and she ran to it,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
+throwing it open. She shrank back, drawing her breath
+gaspingly, for the rider had dismounted and stepped
+toward her, into the dim light of the open doorway.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You!&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>A low laugh was her answer, and Trevison stepped
+over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
+From the foot of the stairs Agatha saw him, and she
+stood, nerveless and shaking with dread over the picture
+he made.</p>
+<p>He had been more than forty-eight hours without
+sleep, the storm-center of action had left its impression
+on him, and his face was gaunt and haggard, with
+great, dark hollows under his eyes. The three or four
+days&#8217; growth of beard accentuated the bold lines of his
+chin and jaw; his eyes were dancing with the fires of
+passion; he held a Winchester rifle under his right
+arm, the left, hanging limply at his side, was stained
+darkly. He swayed as he stood looking at the girl,
+and smiled with faint derision at the naked fear and
+wonder that had leaped into her eyes. But the derision
+was tinged with bitterness, for this girl with both hands
+pressed over her breast, heaving with the mingled emotions
+of modesty and dismay, was one of the chief factors
+in the scheme to rob him. The knowledge hurt
+him worse than the bullet which had passed through
+his arm. She had been uppermost in his thoughts during
+his reckless ride from Manti, and he would have
+cheerfully given his land, his ten years of labor, for the
+assurance that she was innocent. But he knew guilt
+when he saw it, and proof of it had been in her avoidance
+of him, in her ride to save Corrigan&#8217;s mining
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span>
+machinery, in her subsequent telling of his presence
+at the butte on the night of the dynamiting, in her
+bitter declaration that he ought to be punished for it.
+The case against her was strong. And yet on his ride
+from Manti he had been irresistibly drawn toward the
+Bar B ranchhouse. He had told himself as he rode
+that the impulse to visit her this night was strong
+within him because on his way to the pueblo he was
+forced to pass the house, but he knew better&mdash;he had
+lied to himself. He wanted to talk with her again; he
+wanted to show her the land record, which proved her
+fiance&#8217;s guilt; he wanted to watch her as she looked
+at the record, to learn from her face&mdash;what he might
+find there.</p>
+<p>He stood the rifle against the wall near the door,
+while the girl and her aunt watched him, breathlessly.
+His voice was vibrant and hoarse, but well under control,
+and he smiled with straight lips as he set the rifle
+down and drew the record from his waistband.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve something to show you, Miss Benham. I
+couldn&#8217;t pass the house without letting you know what
+has happened.&#8221; He opened the book and stepped to
+her side, swinging his left hand up, the index finger
+indicating a page on which his name appeared.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look!&#8221; he said, sharply, and watched her face
+closely. He saw her cheeks blanch, and set his lips
+grimly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why,&#8221; she said, after she had hurriedly scanned
+the page; &#8220;it seems to prove your title! But this is a
+court record, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; She examined the gilt lettering
+on the back of the volume, and looked up at him
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span>
+with wide, luminous eyes. &#8220;Where did you get that
+book?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;From the courthouse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, I thought people weren&#8217;t permitted to take
+court records&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve taken this one,&#8221; he laughed.</p>
+<p>She looked at the blood on his hand, shudderingly.
+&#8220;Why,&#8221; she said; &#8220;there&#8217;s been violence! The fire,
+the blood on your hand, the record, your ride here&mdash;What
+does it mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It means that I&#8217;ve been denied my rights, and I&#8217;ve
+taken them. Is there any crime in that? Look here!&#8221;
+He took another step and stood looking down at her.
+&#8220;I&#8217;m not saying anything about Corrigan. You know
+what we think of each other, and we&#8217;ll fight it out, man
+to man. But the fact that a woman is engaged to one
+man doesn&#8217;t bar another man from the game. And
+I&#8217;m in this game to the finish. And even if I don&#8217;t get
+you I don&#8217;t want you to be mixed up in these schemes
+and plots&mdash;you&#8217;re too good a girl for that!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; She stiffened, looking scornfully
+at him, her chin held high, outraged innocence in
+her manner. His cold grin of frank disbelief roused
+her to furious indignation. What right had he to question
+her integrity to make such speeches to her after his
+disgraceful affair with Hester Harvey?</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not care to discuss the matter with you!&#8221; she
+said, her lips stiff.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ha, ha!&#8221; The bitter derision in his laugh made
+her blood riot with hatred. He walked toward the
+door and took up the rifle, dimly remembering
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>
+she had used the same words to him once before, when
+he had met her as she had been riding toward Manti.
+Of course she wouldn&#8217;t discuss such a thing&mdash;he had
+been a blind fool to think she would. But it proved her
+guilt. Swinging the rifle under his arm, he opened the
+door, turned when on the threshold and bowed to her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry I troubled you, Miss Benham,&#8221; he said.
+He essayed to turn, staggered, looked vacantly around
+the room, his lips in a queerly cold half-smile, and then
+without uttering a sound pitched forward, one shoulder
+against the door jamb, and slid slowly to his knees,
+where he rested, his head sinking limply to his chest.
+He heard the girl cry out sharply and he raised his
+head with an effort and smiled reassuringly at her, and
+when he felt her hands on his arm, trying to lift him,
+he laughed aloud in self-derision and got to his feet,
+hanging to the door jamb.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, Miss Benham,&#8221; he mumbled. &#8220;I lost
+some blood, I suppose. Rotten luck, isn&#8217;t it. I
+shouldn&#8217;t have stopped.&#8221; He turned to go, lurched forward
+and would have fallen out of the door had not the
+girl seized and steadied him.</p>
+<p>He did not resist when she dragged him into the
+room and closed the door, but he waved her away when
+she tried to take his arm and lead him toward the
+kitchen where, she insisted, she would prepare a stimulant
+and food for him. He tottered after her, tall and
+gaunt, his big, lithe figure strangely slack, his head
+rocking, the room whirling around him. He had held
+to the record and the rifle; the latter by the muzzle,
+dragging it after him, the record under his arm.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></p>
+<p>But his marvelous constitution, a result of his clean
+living and outdoor life, responded quickly to the stimulation
+of food and hot drinks, and in half an hour
+he got up, still a little weak, but with some color
+in his cheeks, and shame-facedly thanked the girl. He
+realized now, that he should not have come here; the
+past few hours loomed in his thoughts like a wild nightmare
+in which he had lost his sense of proportion,
+yielding to the elemental passions that had been aroused
+in his long, sleepless struggle, making him act upon
+impulses that he would have frowned contemptuously
+away in a normal frame of mind.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been nearly crazy, I think,&#8221; he said to the
+girl with a wan smile of self-accusation. &#8220;I want you
+to forget what I said.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What happened at Manti?&#8221; she demanded, ignoring
+his words.</p>
+<p>He laughed at the recollection, tucking his rifle under
+his arm, preparatory to leaving. &#8220;I went after the
+record. I got it. There was a fight. But I got away.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the fire!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was forced to smash a lamp in the courthouse.
+The wick fell into the oil, and I couldn&#8217;t delay to&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was anybody hurt&mdash;besides you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Braman&#8217;s dead.&#8221; The girl gasped and shrank from
+him, and he saw that she believed he had killed the
+banker, and he was about to deny the crime when
+Agatha&#8217;s voice shrilled through the doorway:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are some men coming, Rosalind!&#8221; And
+then, vindictively: &#8220;I presume they are desperadoes&mdash;too!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Deputies!&#8221; said Trevison. The girl clasped her
+hands over her breast in dismay, which changed to terror
+when she saw Trevison stiffen and leap toward the
+door. She was afraid for him, horrified over this second
+lawless deed, dumb with doubt and indecision&mdash;and
+she didn&#8217;t want them to catch him!</p>
+<p>He opened the door, paused on the threshold and
+smiled at her with straight, hard lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Braman was&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go!&#8221; she cried in a frenzy of anxiety; &#8220;go!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He laughed mockingly, and looked at her intently.
+&#8220;I suppose I will never understand women. You are
+my enemy, and yet you give me food and drink and
+are eager to have me escape your accomplice. Don&#8217;t
+you know that this record will ruin him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go, go!&#8221; she panted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you&#8217;re a puzzle!&#8221; he said. She saw him
+leap into the saddle, and she ran to the lamp, blew out
+the flame, and returned to the open door, in which
+she stood for a long time, listening to rapid hoof beats
+that gradually receded. Before they died out entirely
+there came the sound of many others, growing in volume
+and drawing nearer, and she beat her hands
+together, murmuring:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Run, Nigger&mdash;run, run, run!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>She closed the door as the hoof beats sounded in the
+yard, locking it and retreating to the foot of the stairs,
+where Agatha stood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it all mean?&#8221; asked the elder woman.
+She was trembling.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; whispered the girl, gulping
+hard to keep her voice from breaking. &#8220;It&#8217;s something
+about Trevison&#8217;s land. And I&#8217;m afraid, Aunty,
+that there is something terribly wrong. Mr. Corrigan
+says it belongs to him, and the court in Manti
+has decided in his favor. But according to the record
+in Trevison&#8217;s possession, <i>he</i> has a clear title to it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, there,&#8221; consoled Agatha; &#8220;your father
+wouldn&#8217;t permit&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no!&#8221; said the girl, vehemently; &#8220;he wouldn&#8217;t.
+But I can&#8217;t understand why Trevison fights so hard if&mdash;if
+he is in the wrong!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a desperado, my dear; a wild, reckless spirit
+who has no regard for law and order. Of course, if
+these men are after him, you will tell them he was
+here!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221; said the girl, sharply; &#8220;I shan&#8217;t!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you shouldn&#8217;t,&#8221; acquiesced Agatha. She
+patted the girl&#8217;s shoulder. &#8220;Maybe it would be for the
+best, dear&mdash;he may be in the right. And I think I
+understand why you went riding with him so much,
+dear. He may be wild and reckless, but he&#8217;s a man&mdash;every
+inch of him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl squeezed her relative&#8217;s hand and went to
+open the door, upon which had come a loud knock.
+Corrigan stood framed in the opening. She could
+see his face only dimly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s no occasion for alarm, Miss Benham,&#8221; he
+said, and she felt that he could see her better than
+she could see him, and thus must have discerned something
+of her emotion. &#8220;I must apologize for this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
+noisy demonstration. I believe I&#8217;m a
+little excited, though. Has Trevison passed here within the last
+hour or so?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she said, firmly.</p>
+<p>He laughed shortly. &#8220;Well, we&#8217;ll get him. I&#8217;ve
+split my men up&mdash;some have gone to his ranch, the
+others have headed for Levins&#8217; place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What has happened?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Enough. Judge Lindman disappeared&mdash;the supposition
+is that he was abducted. I placed some men
+around the courthouse, to safeguard the records, and
+Trevison broke in and set fire to the place. He also
+robbed the safe in the bank, and killed Braman&mdash;choked
+him to death. A most revolting murder. I&#8217;m
+sorry I disturbed you&mdash;good night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl closed the door as he left it, and leaned
+against it, weak and shaking. Corrigan&#8217;s voice had
+a curious note in it. He had told her he was sorry
+to have disturbed her, but the words had not rung
+true&mdash;there had been too much satisfaction in them.
+What was she to believe from this night&#8217;s events? One
+thought leaped vividly above the others that rioted
+in her mind: Trevison had again sinned against the
+law, and this time his crime was murder! She shrank
+away from the door and joined Agatha at the foot of
+the stairs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aunty,&#8221; she sobbed; &#8220;I want to go away. I want
+to go back East, away from this lawlessness and confusion!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There, there, dear,&#8221; soothed Agatha. &#8220;I am sure
+everything will come out all right. But Trevison <i>does</i>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+look to be the sort of a man who would abduct a judge,
+doesn&#8217;t he? If I were a girl, and felt that he were in
+love with me, I&#8217;d be mighty careful&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That he wouldn&#8217;t abduct you?&#8221; laughed the girl,
+tremulously, cheered by the change in her relative&#8217;s
+manner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Agatha, slyly. &#8220;I&#8217;d be mighty careful
+that he <i>got</i> me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221; said the girl, and buried her face in her
+aunt&#8217;s shoulder.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXV_IN_THE_DARK' id='XXV_IN_THE_DARK'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+<h3>IN THE DARK</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Trevison faced the darkness between him and
+the pueblo with a wild hope pulsing through his
+veins. Rosalind Benham had had an opportunity to
+deliver him into the hands of his enemy and she had
+not taken advantage of it. There was but one interpretation
+that he might place upon her failure to aid
+her accomplice. She declined to take an active part in
+the scheme. She had been passive, content to watch
+while Corrigan did the real work. Possibly she had
+no conception of the enormity of the crime. She had
+been eager to have Corrigan win, and influenced by
+her affection and his arguments she had done what
+she could without actually committing herself to the
+robbery. It was a charitable explanation, and had many
+flaws, but he clung to it persistently, nurturing it with
+his hopes and his hunger for her, building it up until
+it became a structure of logic firmly fixed and impregnable.
+Women were easily influenced&mdash;that had been
+his experience with them&mdash;he was forced to accept
+it as a trait of the sex. So he absolved her, his hunger
+for her in no way sated at the end.</p>
+<p>His thoughts ran to Corrigan in a riot of rage that
+pained him like a knife thrust; his lust for vengeance
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
+was a savage, bitter-visaged demon that held him in
+its clutch and made his temples pound with a yearning
+to slay. And that, of course, would have to be
+the end. For the enmity that lay between them was
+not a thing to be settled by the law&mdash;it was a man to
+man struggle that could be settled in only one way&mdash;by
+the passions, naked, elemental, eternal. He saw it
+coming; he leaped to meet it, eagerly.</p>
+<p>Every stride the black horse made shortened by that
+much the journey he had resolved upon, and Nigger
+never ran as he was running now. The black seemed
+to feel that he was on the last lap of a race that had
+lasted for more than forty-eight hours, with short intervals
+of rest between, and he did his best without faltering.</p>
+<p>Order had come out of the chaos of plot and counterplot;
+Trevison&#8217;s course was to be as direct as his hatred.
+He would go to the pueblo, take Judge Lindman and
+the record to Santa Fe, and then return to Manti for
+a last meeting with Corrigan.</p>
+<p>A late moon, rising from a cleft in some distant
+mountains, bathed the plains with a silvery flood when
+horse and rider reached a point within a mile of the
+pueblo, and Nigger covered the remainder of the distance
+at a pace that made the night air drum in Trevison&#8217;s
+ears. The big black slowed as he came to a
+section of broken country surrounding the ancient city,
+but he got through it quickly and skirted the sand
+slopes, taking the steep acclivity leading to the ledge
+of the pueblo in a dozen catlike leaps and coming to
+a halt in the shadow of an adobe house, heaving deeply,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span>
+his rider flung himself out of the saddle and ran along
+the ledge to the door of the chamber where he had
+imprisoned Judge Lindman.</p>
+<p>Trevison could see no sign of the Judge or Levins.
+The ledge was bare, aglow, the openings of the communal
+houses facing it loomed dark, like the doors of
+tombs. A ghastly, unearthly silence greeted Trevison&#8217;s
+call after the echoes died away; the upper tier of adobe
+boxes seemed to nod in ghostly derision as his gaze
+swept them. There was no sound, no movement, except
+the regular cough of his own laboring lungs, and the
+rustle of his clothing as his chest swelled and deflated
+with the effort. He exclaimed impatiently and retraced
+his steps, peering into recesses between the communal
+houses, certain that the Judge and Levins had fallen
+asleep in his absence. He turned at a corner and in
+a dark angle almost stumbled over Levins. He was
+lying on his stomach, his right arm under his head, his
+face turned sideways. Trevison thought at first that
+he was asleep and prodded him gently with the toe of
+his boot. A groan smote his ears and he kneeled
+quickly, turning Levins over. Something damp and
+warm met his fingers as he seized the man by the
+shoulder, and he drew the hand away quickly, exclaiming
+sharply as he noted the stain on it.</p>
+<p>His exclamation brought Levins&#8217; eyes open, and he
+stared upward, stupidly at first, then with a bright gaze
+of comprehension. He struggled and sat up, swaying
+from side to side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They got the Judge, &#8216;Brand&#8217;&mdash;they run him off,
+with my cayuse!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Who got him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t reckonin&#8217; to know. Some of Corrigan&#8217;s
+scum, most likely&mdash;I didn&#8217;t see &#8217;em close.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How long ago?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a hell of a while. Mebbe fifteen or twenty
+minutes. I been missin&#8217; a lot of time, I reckon. Can&#8217;t
+have been long, though.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Which way did they go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Off towards Manti. Two of &#8217;em took him. The
+rest is layin&#8217; low somewhere, most likely. Watch out
+they don&#8217;t get <i>you</i>! I ain&#8217;t seen &#8217;em run off, yet!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How did it happen?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t
+got it clear in my head, yet. Just happened,
+I reckon. The Judge was settin&#8217;
+on the ledge just in
+front of the dobie house you had him in. I was moseyin&#8217;
+along the edge, tryin&#8217; to figger out what a light
+in the sky off towards Manti meant. I couldn&#8217;t figger
+it out&mdash;what in hell was it, anyway?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The courthouse burned&mdash;maybe the bank.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Levins chuckled. &#8220;You got the record, then.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; I&#8217;ve lost the Judge! Ain&#8217;t I a box-head,
+though!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right. Go ahead. What happened?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was moseyin along the ledge. Just when I got
+to the slope where we come up&mdash;passin&#8217; it&mdash;I seen a
+bunch of guys, on horses, coming out of the shadow
+of an angle, down there. I hadn&#8217;t seen &#8217;em before. I
+knowed somethin&#8217; was up an&#8217; I turned, to light out
+for shelter. An&#8217; just then one of &#8217;em burns me in the
+back&mdash;with a rifle bullet. It couldn&#8217;t have been no six,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>
+from that distance. It took the starch out of me, an&#8217;
+I caved, I reckon, for a little while. When I woke up
+the Judge was gone. The moon had just come up an&#8217;
+I seen him ridin&#8217; away on my cayuse, between two other
+guys. I reckon I must have gone off again, when you
+shook me.&#8221; He laughed, weakly. &#8220;What gets <i>me</i>,
+is where them other guys went, after the two sloped
+with the Judge. If they&#8217;d have been hangin&#8217; around
+they&#8217;d sure have got <i>you</i>, comin&#8217; up here, wouldn&#8217;t
+they?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison&#8217;s answer was a hoarse exclamation. He
+swung Levins up and bore him into one of the communal
+houses, whose opening faced away from the
+plains and the activity. Then he ran to where he had
+left Nigger, leading the animal back into the zig-zag
+passages, pulling his rifle out of the saddle holster and
+stationing himself in the shadow of the house in which
+he had taken Levins.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ve come back, eh?&#8221; the wounded man&#8217;s voice
+floated out to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;five or six of them. No&mdash;eight! They&#8217;ve
+got sharp eyes, too!&#8221; he added stepping back as a rifle
+bullet droned over his head, chipping a chunk of adobe
+from the roof of the box in whose shelter he stood.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Sullenly, Corrigan had returned to Manti with the
+deputies that had accompanied him to the Bar B. He
+had half expected to find Trevison at the ranchhouse,
+for he had watched him when he had ridden away and
+he seemed to have been headed in that direction. Jealousy
+dwelt darkly in the big man&#8217;s heart, and he had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span>
+found his reason for the suspicion there. He thought
+he knew truth when he saw it, and he would have sworn
+that truth shone from Rosalind Benham&#8217;s eyes when
+she had told him that she had not seen Trevison pass
+that way. He had not known that what he took for
+the truth was the cleverest bit of acting the girl had
+ever been called upon to do. He had decided that
+Trevison had swung off the Bar B trail somewhere
+between Manti and the ranchhouse, and he led his deputies
+back to town, content to permit his men to continue
+the search for Trevison, for he was convinced
+that the latter&#8217;s visit to the courthouse had resulted
+in disappointment, for he had faith in Judge Lindman&#8217;s
+declaration that he had destroyed the record. He had
+accused himself many times for his lack of caution in
+not being present when the record had been destroyed,
+but regrets had become impotent and futile.</p>
+<p>Reaching Manti, he dispersed his deputies and
+sought his bed in the <i>Castle</i>. He had not been in bed
+more than an hour when an attendant of the hotel
+called to him through the door that a man named Gieger
+wanted to talk with him, below. He dressed and went
+down to the street, to find Gieger and another deputy
+sitting on their horses in front of the hotel with Judge
+Lindman, drooping from his long vigil, between
+them.</p>
+<p>Corrigan grinned scornfully at the Judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clever, eh?&#8221; he sneered. He spoke softly, for the
+dawn was not far away, and he knew that a voice
+carries resonantly at that hour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t understand you!&#8221; Judicial dignity sat
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span>
+sadly on the Judge; he was tired and haggard, and his
+voice was a weak treble. &#8220;If you mean&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll show you what I mean.&#8221; Corrigan motioned
+to the deputies. &#8220;Bring him along!&#8221; Leading the
+way he took them through Manti&#8217;s back door across a
+railroad spur to a shanty beside the track which the
+engineer in charge of the dam occasionally occupied
+when his duty compelled him to check up arriving material
+and supplies. Because plans and other valuable
+papers were sometimes left in the shed it was stoutly
+built, covered with corrugated iron, and the windows
+barred with iron, prison-like. Reaching the shed, Corrigan
+unlocked the door, shoved the Judge inside, closed
+the door on the Judge&#8217;s indignant protests, questioned
+the deputies briefly, gave them orders and then re-entered
+the shed, closing the door behind him.</p>
+<p>He towered over the Judge, who had sunk weakly
+to a bench. It was pitch dark in the shed, but Corrigan
+had seen the Judge drop on the bench and knew
+exactly where he was.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want the whole story&mdash;without any reservations,&#8221;
+said Corrigan, hoarsely; &#8220;and I want it quick&mdash;as
+fast as you can talk!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge got up, resenting the other&#8217;s tone. He
+had also a half-formed resolution to assert his independence,
+for he had received certain assurances from Trevison
+with regard to his past which had impressed him&mdash;and
+still impressed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I refuse to be questioned by you, sir&mdash;especially
+in this manner! I do not purpose to take further&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Judge felt Corrigan&#8217;s fingers at his throat, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>
+gasped with horror, throwing up his hands to ward
+them off, failed, and heard Corrigan&#8217;s laugh as the
+fingers gripped his throat and held.</p>
+<p>When the Judge came to, it was with an excruciatingly
+painful struggle that left him shrinking and nerveless,
+lying in a corner, blinking at the light of a kerosene
+lamp. Corrigan sat on the edge of a flat-topped
+desk watching him with an ugly, appraising, speculative
+grin. It was as though the man were mentally gambling
+on his chances to recover from the throttling.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said when the Judge at last struggled
+and sat up; &#8220;how do you like it? You&#8217;ll get more if
+you don&#8217;t talk fast and straight! Who wrote that letter,
+from Dry Bottom?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Neither judicial dignity or resolutions of independence
+could resist the threatened danger of further
+violence that shone from Corrigan&#8217;s eyes, and the Judge
+whispered gaspingly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought so! Now, be careful how you answer
+this. What did Trevison want in the courthouse?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The original record of the land transfers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did he get it?&#8221; Corrigan&#8217;s voice was dangerously
+even, and the Judge squirmed and coughed before he
+spoke the hesitating word that was an admission of
+his deception:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told him&mdash;where&mdash;it was.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Paralyzed with fear, the Judge watched Corrigan
+slip off the desk and approach him. He got to his
+feet and raised his hands to shield his throat as the big
+man stopped in front of him.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Corrigan&mdash;don&#8217;t, for God&#8217;s sake!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bah!&#8221; said the big man. He struck, venomously.
+An instant later he put out the light and stepped down
+into the gray dawn, locking the door of the shanty
+behind him and not looking back.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXVI_THE_ASHES' id='XXVI_THE_ASHES'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+<h3>THE ASHES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Rosalind Benham got up with the dawn and
+looked out of a window toward Manti. She had
+not slept. She stood at the window for some time and
+then returned to the bed and sat on its edge, staring
+thoughtfully downward. She could not get Trevison
+out of her mind. It seemed to her that a crisis
+had come and that it was imperative for her to reach
+a decision&mdash;to pronounce judgment. She was trying
+to do this calmly; she was trying to keep sentiment from
+prejudicing her. She found it difficult when considering
+Trevison, but when she arrayed Hester Harvey
+against her longing for the man she found that her
+scorn helped her to achieve a mental balance that permitted
+her to think of him almost dispassionately. She
+became a mere onlooker, with a calm, clear vision. In
+this rôle she weighed him. His deeds, his manner, his
+claims, she arrayed against Corrigan and his counter-claims
+and ambitions, and was surprised to discover
+that were she to be called upon to pass judgment on
+the basis of this surface evidence she would have decided
+in favor of Trevison. She had fought against that,
+for it was a tacit admission that her father was in some
+way connected with Corrigan&#8217;s scheme, but she admitted
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>
+it finally, with a pulse of repugnance, and when she
+placed Levins&#8217; story on the mental balance, with the
+knowledge that she had seen the record which seemed
+to prove the contention of fraud in the land transaction,
+the evidence favored Trevison overwhelmingly.</p>
+<p>She got up and began to dress, her lips set with determination.
+Corrigan had held her off once with plausible
+explanations, but she would not permit him to do
+so again. She intended to place the matter before her
+father. Justice must be done. Before she had half
+finished dressing she heard a rustle and turned to see
+Agatha standing in the doorway connecting their rooms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t stand the suspense any longer, Aunty. There
+is something very wrong about that land business. I
+am going to telegraph to father about it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was going to ask you to do that, dear. It seems
+to me that that young Trevison is too much in earnest
+to be fighting for something that does not belong to
+him. If ever there was honesty in a man&#8217;s face it was
+in his face last night. I don&#8217;t believe for a minute
+that your father is concerned in Corrigan&#8217;s schemes&mdash;if
+there are schemes. But it won&#8217;t do any harm to
+learn what your father thinks about it. My dear&mdash;&#8221;
+she stepped to the girl and placed an arm around her
+waist &#8220;&mdash;last night as I watched Trevison, he reminded
+me of a&mdash;a very dear friend that I once knew. I
+saw the wreck of my own romance, my dear. He was
+just such a man as Trevison&mdash;reckless, impulsive, and
+impetuous&mdash;dare-devil who would not tolerate injustice
+or oppression. They wouldn&#8217;t let me have him,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>
+my dear, and I never would have another man. He
+went away, joined the army, and was killed at the battle
+of Kenesaw Mountain. I have kept his memory fresh
+in my heart, and last night when I looked at Trevison
+it seemed to me that he must be the reincarnation of
+the only man I ever loved. There must be something
+terribly wrong to make him act the way he does, my
+dear. And he loves you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl bit her lips to repress the swelling emotions
+which clamored in wild response to this sympathetic
+understanding. She looked at Agatha, to see tears in
+her eyes, and she wheeled impulsively and threw her
+arms around the other&#8217;s neck.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Aunty. But&mdash;&#8221;
+she gulped &#8220;&mdash;he doesn&#8217;t love me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I saw it in his eyes, my dear.&#8221; Agatha&#8217;s smile
+was tender and reminiscent. &#8220;Don&#8217;t you worry. He
+will find a way to let you know&mdash;as he will find a way
+to beat Corrigan&mdash;if Corrigan is trying to defraud
+him! He&#8217;s that kind, my dear!&#8221;</p>
+<p>In spite of her aunt&#8217;s assurances the girl&#8217;s heart was
+heavy as she began her ride to Manti. Trevison might
+love her,&mdash;she had read that it was possible for a
+man to love two women&mdash;but she could never return
+his love, knowing of his affair with Hester. He should
+have justice, however, if they were trying to defraud
+him of his rights!</p>
+<p>Long before she reached Manti she saw the train
+from Dry Bottom, due at Manti at six o&#8217;clock, gliding
+over the plains toward the town, and when she arrived
+at the station its passengers had been swallowed by
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
+Manti&#8217;s buildings and the station agent and an assistant
+were dragging and bumping trunks and boxes over the
+station platform.</p>
+<p>The agent bowed deferentially to her and followed
+her into the telegraph room, clicking her message over
+the wires as soon as she had written it. When he had
+finished he wheeled his chair and grinned at her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;See the courthouse and the bank?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She had&mdash;all that was left of them&mdash;black, charred
+ruins with two iron safes, red from their baptism of
+fire, standing among them. Also two other buildings,
+one on each side of the two that had been destroyed,
+scorched and warped, but otherwise undamaged.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come pretty near burning the whole town. It took
+<i>some</i> work to confine <i>that</i> fire&mdash;coal oil. Trevison
+did a clean job. Robbed the safe in the bank. Killed
+Braman&mdash;guzzled him. An awful complete job, from
+Trevison&#8217;s viewpoint. The town&#8217;s riled, and I wouldn&#8217;t
+give a plugged cent for Trevison&#8217;s chances. He&#8217;s
+sloped. Desperate character&mdash;I always thought he&#8217;d
+rip things loose&mdash;give him time. It was him blowed
+up Corrigan&#8217;s mine. I ain&#8217;t seen Corrigan since last
+night, but I heard him and twenty or thirty deputies
+are on Trevison&#8217;s trail. I hope they get him.&#8221; He
+squinted at her. &#8220;There&#8217;s trouble brewing in this town,
+Miss Benham. I wouldn&#8217;t advise you to stay here any
+longer than is <i>absolutely</i> necessary. There&#8217;s two factions&mdash;looks
+like. It&#8217;s about that land deal. Lefingwell
+and some more of them think they&#8217;ve been given
+a raw decision by the court and Corrigan. Excitement!
+Oh, Lord! This town is fierce. I ain&#8217;t had any sleep
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>
+in&mdash;Your answer? I can&#8217;t tell. Mebbe right away.
+Mebbe in an hour.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind went out upon the platform. The agent&#8217;s
+words had revived a horror that she had almost forgotten&mdash;that
+she wanted to forget&mdash;the murder of
+Braman.</p>
+<p>She walked to the edge of the station platform, tortured
+by thoughts in which she could find no excuse
+for Trevison. Murderer and robber! A fugitive from
+justice&mdash;the very justice he had been demanding! Her
+thoughts made her weak and sick, and she stepped
+down from the platform and walked up the track,
+halting beside a shed and leaning against it. Across
+the street from her was the <i>Castle</i> hotel. A man in
+boots, corduroy trousers, and a flannel shirt and dirty
+white apron, his sleeves rolled to the elbows, was washing
+the front windows and spitting streams of tobacco
+juice on the board walk. She shivered. A grocer next
+to the hotel was adjusting a swinging shelf affixed to
+the store-front, preparatory to piling his wares upon
+it; a lean-faced man standing in a doorway in the building
+adjoining the grocery was inspecting a six-shooter
+that he had removed from the holster at his side. Rosalind
+shivered again. Civilization and outlawry were
+strangely mingled here. She would not have been surprised
+to see the lean-faced man begin to shoot at the
+others. Filled with sudden trepidation she took a step
+away from the shed, intending to return to the station
+and wait for her answer.</p>
+<p>As she moved she heard a low moan. She started,
+paling, and then stood stock still, trembling with dread,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span>
+but determined not to run. The sound came again,
+seeming to issue from the interior of the shed, and
+she retraced her step and leaned again against the
+wall of the building, listening.</p>
+<p>There was no mistaking the sound&mdash;someone was
+in trouble. But she wanted to be certain before calling
+for help and she listened again to hear an unmistakable
+pounding on the wall near her, and a voice,
+calling frenziedly: &#8220;Help, help&mdash;for God&#8217;s sake!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her fears fled and she sprang to the door, finding
+it locked. She rattled it, impotently, and then left it
+and ran across the street to where the window-washer
+stood. He wheeled and spat copiously, almost in her
+face, as she rapidly told him her news, and then deliberately
+dropped his brush and cloth into the dust and
+mud at his feet and jumped after her, across the street.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;s in here?&#8221; demanded the man, hammering
+on the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s I&mdash;Judge Lindman! Open the door! Hurry!
+I&#8217;m smothering&mdash;and hurt!&#8221;</p>
+<p>In what transpired within the next few minutes&mdash;and
+indeed during the hours following&mdash;the girl felt
+like an outsider. No one paid any attention to her;
+she was shoved, jostled, buffeted, by the crowd that
+gathered, swarming from all directions. But she was
+intensely interested.</p>
+<p>It seemed to her that every person in Manti gathered
+in front of the shed&mdash;that all had heard of the
+abduction of the Judge. Some one secured an iron
+bar and battered the lock off the door; a half-dozen
+men dragged the Judge out, and he stood in front of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+the building, swaying in the hands of his supporters,
+his white hair disheveled, his lips blood-stained and
+smashed, where Corrigan had hit him. The frenzy of
+terror held him, and he looked wildly around at the tiers
+of faces confronting him, the cords of his neck standing
+out and writhing spasmodically. Twice he opened
+his lips to speak, but each time his words died in a dry
+gasp. At the third effort he shrieked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I want protection! Don&#8217;t let him touch me
+again, men! He means to kill me! Don&#8217;t let him
+touch me! I&mdash;I&#8217;ve been attacked&mdash;choked&mdash;knocked
+insensible! I appeal to you as American citizens for
+protection!&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was fear, stark, naked, cringing, that the crowd
+saw. Faces blanched, bodies stiffened; a concerted
+breath, like a sigh, rose into the flat, desert air. Rosalind
+clenched her hands and stood rigid, thrilling with
+pity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who done it?&#8221; A dozen voices asked the question.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan!&#8221; The Judge screamed this, hysterically.
+&#8220;He is a thief and a scoundrel, men! He has plundered
+this county! He has prostituted your court. Your
+judge, too! I admit it. But I ask your mercy, men!
+I was forced into it! He threatened me! He falsified
+the land records! He wanted me to destroy the original
+record, but I didn&#8217;t&mdash;I told Trevison where it was&mdash;I
+hid it! And because I wouldn&#8217;t help Corrigan to
+rob you, he tried to kill me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A murmur, low, guttural, vindictive, rippled over
+the crowd, which had now swelled to such proportions
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+that the street could not hold it. It fringed the railroad
+track; men were packed against the buildings surrounding
+the shed; they shoved, jostled and squirmed
+in an effort to get closer to the Judge. The windows
+of the <i>Castle</i> hotel were filled with faces, among which
+Rosalind saw Hester Harvey&#8217;s, ashen, her eyes aglow.</p>
+<p>The Judge&#8217;s words had stabbed Rosalind&mdash;each
+like a separate knife-thrust; they had plunged her into
+a mental vacuum in which her brain, atrophied, reeled,
+paralyzed. She staggered&mdash;a man caught her, muttered
+something about there being too much excitement
+for a lady, and gruffly ordered others to clear the way
+that he might lead her out of the jam. She resisted,
+for she was determined to stay to hear the Judge to
+the end, and the man grinned hugely at her; and to
+escape the glances that she could feel were directed
+at her she slipped through the crowd and sought the
+front of the shed, leaning against it, weakly.</p>
+<p>A silence had followed the murmur that had run
+over the crowd. There was a breathless period, during
+which every man seemed to be waiting for his neighbor
+to take the initiative. They wanted a leader. And he
+appeared, presently&mdash;a big, broad-shouldered man
+forced his way through the crowd and halted in front
+of the Judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon we&#8217;ll protect you, Judge. Just spit out
+what you got to say. We&#8217;ll stand by you. Where&#8217;s
+Trevison?&#8221;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;He came to the courthouse last night to get the
+record. I told him where it was. He forced me to go
+with him to an Indian pueblo, and he kept me there
+yesterday. He left me there last night with Clay
+Levins, while he came here to get the record.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you reckon he got it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know. But from the way Corrigan acted
+last night&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes; he got it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The words shifted the crowd&#8217;s gaze to Rosalind,
+swiftly. The girl had hardly realized that she had
+spoken. Her senses, paralyzed a minute before, had
+received the electric shock of sympathy from a continued
+study of the Judge&#8217;s face. She saw remorse on
+it, regret, shame, and the birth of a resolution to make
+whatever reparation that was within his power, at
+whatever cost. It was a weak face, but it was not
+vicious, and while she had been standing there she had
+noted the lines of suffering. It was not until the
+girl felt the gaze of many curious eyes on her that
+she realized she had committed herself, and her cheeks
+flamed. She set herself to face the stares; she must
+go on now.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Benham&#8217;s girl!&#8221; she heard a man standing
+near her whisper hoarsely, and she faced them, her
+chin held high, a queer joy leaping in her heart. She
+knew at this minute that her sympathies had been with
+Trevison all along; that she had always suspected Corrigan,
+but had fought against the suspicion because of
+the thought that in some way her father might be
+dragged into the affair. It had been a cowardly attitude,
+and she was glad that she had shaken it off. As
+her brain, under the spur of the sudden excitement,
+resumed its function, her thoughts flitted to the agent&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>
+babble during the time she had been sending the telegram
+to her father. She talked rapidly, her voice
+carrying far:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison got the record last night. He stopped
+at my ranch and showed it to me. I suppose he was
+going to the pueblo, expecting to meet Levins and Lindman
+there&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By God!&#8221; The big, broad-shouldered man standing
+at Judge Lindman&#8217;s side interrupted her. He
+turned and faced the crowd. &#8220;We&#8217;re damned fools,
+boys&mdash;lettin&#8217; this thing go on like we have! Corrigan&#8217;s
+took his deputies out, trailin&#8217; Trevison, chargin&#8217;
+him with murderin&#8217; Braman, when his real purpose is
+to get his claws on that record! Trevison&#8217;s been fightin&#8217;
+our fight for us, an&#8217; we&#8217;ve stood around like a lot of
+gillies, lettin&#8217; him do it! It&#8217;s likely that a man who&#8217;d
+cook up a deal like the Judge, here, says Corrigan has,
+would cook up another, chargin&#8217; Trevison with guzzlin&#8217;
+the banker. I&#8217;ve knowed Trevison a long time, boys,
+an&#8217; I don&#8217;t believe he&#8217;d <i>guzzle</i> anybody&mdash;he&#8217;s too
+square a man for that!&#8221; He stood on his toes, raising
+his clenched hands, and bringing them down with
+a sweep of furious emphasis.</p>
+<p>The crowd swayed restlessly. Rosalind saw it split
+apart, men fighting to open a pathway for a woman.
+There were shouts of: &#8220;Open up, there!&#8221; &#8220;Let the
+lady through!&#8221; &#8220;Gangway!&#8221; &#8220;She&#8217;s got somethin&#8217;
+to say!&#8221; And the girl caught her breath sharply, for
+she recognized the woman as Hester Harvey.</p>
+<p>It was some time before Hester reached the broad-shouldered
+man&#8217;s side. There was a stain in each of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+her cheeks, but outwardly, at least, she showed none
+of the excitement that had seized the crowd; her movements
+were deliberate and there was a resolute set to
+her lips. She got through, finally, and halted beside
+the big man, the crowd closing up behind her. She
+was swallowed in it, lost to sight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lift her up, Lefingwell!&#8221; suggested a man on the
+outer fringe. &#8220;If she&#8217;s got anything to say, let us all
+hear it!&#8221; The suggestion was caught up, insistently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you ain&#8217;t got no objections, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; said the
+big man. He stooped at her cold smile and swung her
+to his shoulder. She spoke slowly and distinctly, though
+there was a tremor in her voice:</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-283.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 384px; height: 574px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 384px;'>
+&#8220;YOU MEN ARE BLIND. CORRIGAN IS A CROOK WHO WILL STOP AT NOTHING.&#8221;<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Trevison did not kill Braman&mdash;it was Corrigan.
+Corrigan was in my room in the <i>Castle</i> last night just
+after dark. When he left, I watched him from my window,
+after putting out the light. He had threatened
+to kill Braman. I watched him cross the street and go
+around to the rear of the bank building. There was a
+light in the rear room of the bank. After a while
+Braman and Corrigan entered the banking room. The
+light from the rear room shone on them for an instant
+and I recognized them. They were at the safe. When
+they went out they left the safe door open. After a
+while the light went out and I saw Corrigan come from
+around the rear of the building, recross the street and
+come into the <i>Castle</i>. You men are blind. Corrigan
+is a crook who will stop at nothing. If you let him
+injure Trevison for a crime that Trevison did not commit
+you deserve to be robbed!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lefingwell swung her down from his shoulder.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon that cinches it, boys!&#8221; he bellowed over
+the heads of the men nearest him. &#8220;There ain&#8217;t nothin&#8217;
+plainer! If we stand for this we&#8217;re a bunch of cowardly
+coyotes that ain&#8217;t fit to look Trevison in the face!
+I&#8217;m goin&#8217; to help him! Who&#8217;s comin&#8217; along?&#8221;</p>
+<p>A chorus of shouts drowned his last words; the
+crowd was in motion, swift, with definite purpose. It
+melted, streaming off in all directions, like the sweep
+of water from a bursted dam. It broke at the doors
+of the buildings; it sought the stables. Men bearing
+rifles appeared in the street, mounting horses and congregating
+in front of the <i>Belmont</i>, where Lefingwell
+had gone. Other men, on the board sidewalk and in
+the dust of the street, were running, shouting, gesticulating.
+In an instant the town had become a bedlam
+of portentous force; it was the first time in its history
+that the people of Manti had looked with collective
+vision, and the girl reeled against the iron wall of the
+shed, appalled at the resistless power that had been
+set in motion. On a night when she sat on the
+porch of the Bar B ranchhouse she had looked toward
+Manti, thrilled over a pretty mental fancy. She had
+thought it all a game&mdash;wondrous, joyous, progressive.
+She had neglected to associate justice with it then&mdash;the
+inexorable rule of fairness under which every player
+of the game must bow. She brought it into use now,
+felt the spirit of it, saw the dire tragedy that its perversion
+portended, groaned, and covered her face with her
+hands.</p>
+<p>She looked around after a while. She saw Judge
+Lindman walking across the street toward the <i>Castle</i>,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>
+supported by two other men. A third followed; she
+did not know him, but Corrigan would have recognized
+him as the hotel clerk who had grown confidential upon
+a certain day. The girl heard his voice as he followed
+after the Judge and the others&mdash;raucous, vindictive:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We need men like Trevison in this town. We can
+get along without any Corrigans.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She heard a voice behind her and she turned, swiftly,
+to see Hester Harvey walking toward her. She would
+have avoided the meeting, but she saw that Hester was
+intent on speaking and she drew herself erect, bowing
+to her with cold courtesy as the woman stopped within
+a step of her and smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You look ready to flop into hysterics, dearie! Won&#8217;t
+you come over to my room with me and have something
+to brace you up? A cup of tea?&#8221; she added with a
+laugh as Rosalind looked quickly at her. She did not
+seem to notice the stiffening of the girl&#8217;s body, but
+linked her arm within her own and began to walk across
+the street. The girl was racked with emotion over the
+excitement of the morning, the dread of impending
+violence, and half frantic with anxiety over Trevison&#8217;s
+safety. Hester&#8217;s offense against her seemed vague
+and far, and very insignificant, relatively. She yearned
+to exchange confidences with somebody&mdash;anybody, and
+this woman, even though she were what she thought
+her, had a capacity for feeling, for sympathy. And
+she was very, very tired of it all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was fierce, wasn&#8217;t it?&#8221; said Hester a few minutes
+later in the privacy of her room, as she balanced her
+cup and watched Rosalind as the girl ate, hungrily.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
+&#8220;These sagebrush rough-necks out here will make Corrigan
+hump himself to keep out of their way. But he
+deserves it, the crook!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl looked curiously at the other, trying hard
+to reconcile the vindictiveness of these words and the
+woman&#8217;s previous action in giving damaging testimony
+against Corrigan, with the significant fact that Corrigan
+had been in her room the night before, presumably
+as a guest. Hester caught the look and laughed. &#8220;Yes,
+dearie, he deserves it. How much do you know of
+what has been going on here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very little, I am afraid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Less than that, I suspect. I happen to know considerable,
+and I am going to tell you about it. My trip
+out here has been a sort of a wild-goose chase. I
+thought I wanted Trevison, but I&#8217;ve discovered I&#8217;m not
+badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl gasped and almost dropped her cup, setting
+it down slowly afterward and staring at her hostess
+with doubting, fearing, incredulous eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dearie,&#8221; laughed the other, with a trace of
+embarrassment; &#8220;you can trust your ears on that statement.
+To make certain, I&#8217;ll repeat it: I am not very
+badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations.
+Do you know what that means? It means that he
+turned me down cold, dearie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean&mdash;&#8221; began the girl, gripping the
+table edge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over
+to Trevison&#8217;s ranch he told me plainly that he didn&#8217;t
+like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. He wouldn&#8217;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
+kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way.
+He told me he&#8217;d got over it, the same as he&#8217;d got over
+his measles days&mdash;he&#8217;d outgrown it and was going to
+throw himself at the feet of another goddess. Oh,
+yes, he meant you!&#8221; she laughed, her voice a little too
+high, perhaps, with an odd note of bitterness in it.
+&#8220;Then, determined to blot my rival out, I lied about
+you. I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you
+were in the game to rob him of his land. Oh, I
+blackened you, dearie! It hurt him, too. For when
+a man like Trevison loves a woman&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How could you!&#8221; said the girl, shuddering.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please don&#8217;t get dramatic,&#8221; jeered the other. &#8220;The
+rules that govern the love game are very elastic&mdash;for
+some women. I played it strong, but there was no
+chance for me from the beginning. Trevison thinks
+you are Corrigan&#8217;s trump card in this game. It <i>is</i> a
+game, isn&#8217;t it. But he loves you in spite of it all. He
+told me he&#8217;d go to the gallows for you. Aren&#8217;t men
+the sillies! But just the same, dearie, we women like
+to hear them murmur those little heroic things, don&#8217;t
+we? It was on the night I told him you&#8217;d told Corrigan
+about the dynamiting.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221; said the girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was my high card,&#8221; laughed the woman,
+harshly. &#8220;He took it and derided me. I decided right
+then that I wouldn&#8217;t play any more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then he didn&#8217;t send for you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan did that, dearie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&mdash;you knew Corrigan before&mdash;before you
+came here?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You <i>can</i> guess intelligently, can&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Corrigan planned it <i>all</i>?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All.&#8221; Hester watched as the girl bowed her head
+and sobbed convulsively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a brazen, crafty and unprincipled <i>thing</i> Trevison
+must think me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Hester reached out a hand and laid it on the girl&#8217;s.
+&#8220;I&mdash;there was a time when I would have done murder
+to have him think of me as he thinks of you, dearie.
+He isn&#8217;t for me, though, and I can&#8217;t spoil any woman&#8217;s
+happiness. There&#8217;s little enough&mdash;but I&#8217;m not going
+to philosophize. I was going away without telling you
+this. I don&#8217;t know why I am telling it now. I always
+was a little soft. But if you hadn&#8217;t spoken as you did
+a while ago in that crowd&mdash;taking Trevison&#8217;s end&mdash;I&mdash;I
+think you&#8217;d never have known. Somehow, it
+seemed you deserved him, dearie. And I couldn&#8217;t bear
+to&mdash;to think of him facing any more disappointment.
+He&mdash;he took it so&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl looked up, to see the woman&#8217;s eyes filling
+with a luminous mist. A quick conception of what this
+all meant to the woman thrilled the girl. She got up
+and walked to the woman&#8217;s side. &#8220;I&#8217;m <i>so</i> sorry, Hester,&#8221;
+she said as her arms stole around the other&#8217;s neck.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>She went out a little later, into the glaring, shimmering
+sunlight of the morning, her cheeks red, her
+eyes aglow, her heart racing wildly, to see an engine
+and a luxurious private car just pulling from the main
+track to a switch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she whispered, joyously; &#8220;it&#8217;s father&#8217;s!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span></p>
+<p>And she ran toward it, tingling with a new-found
+hope.</p>
+<p>In her room at the <i>Castle</i> sat a woman who was
+finding the world very empty. It held nothing for her
+except the sad consolation of repentance.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXVII_THE_FIGHT' id='XXVII_THE_FIGHT'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+<h3>THE FIGHT</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;The boss is sure a she-wolf at playin&#8217; a lone
+hand,&#8221; growled Barkwell, shortly after dusk, to
+Jud Weaver, the straw boss. &#8220;Seems he thinks his
+friends is delicate ornaments which any use would bust
+to smithereens. Here&#8217;s his outfit layin&#8217; around, bitin&#8217;
+their finger nails with ongwee an&#8217; pinin&#8217; away to slivers
+yearnin&#8217; to get into the big meal-lee, an&#8217; him racin&#8217; an&#8217;
+tearin&#8217; around the country fightin&#8217; it out by his lonesome.
+I call it rank selfishness!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He sure ought to have give us a chancst to claw the
+hair outen that damned Corrigan feller!&#8221; complained
+Weaver. &#8220;In some ways, though, I&#8217;m sorta glad the
+damned mine was blew up. &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; would have
+sure got a-hold of her some day, an&#8217; then we&#8217;d be clawin&#8217;
+at the bowels of the earth instid of galivantin&#8217; around
+on our cayuses like gentlemen. I reckon things is all
+for the best.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The two had come in from the river range ostensibly
+to confer with Trevison regarding their work, but in
+reality to satisfy their curiosity over Trevison&#8217;s movements.
+There was a deep current of concern for him
+under their accusations.</p>
+<p>They had found the ranchhouse dark and deserted.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+But the office door was open and they had entered,
+prepared supper, ate with a more than ordinary mingling
+of conversation with their food, and not lighting
+the lamps had gone out on the gallery for a smoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He ain&#8217;t done any sleepin&#8217; to amount to much in
+the last forty-eight hours, to my knowin&#8217;,&#8221; remarked
+Barkwell; &#8220;unless he&#8217;s done his sleepin&#8217; on the run&mdash;an&#8217;
+that ain&#8217;t in no ways a comfortable way. He&#8217;s
+sure to be driftin&#8217; in here, soon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;This here country&#8217;s goin&#8217; to hell, certain!&#8221; declared
+Weaver, after an hour of silence. &#8220;She&#8217;s gettin&#8217; too
+eastern an&#8217; flighty. Railroads an&#8217; dams an&#8217; hotels with
+bath tubs for every six or seven rooms, an&#8217; resterawnts
+with filleedegree palms an&#8217; leather chairs an&#8217; slick eats
+is eatin&#8217; the gizzard outen her. Railroads is all right
+in their place&mdash;which is where folks ain&#8217;t got no
+cayuses to fork an&#8217; therefore has to hoof it&mdash;or&mdash;or
+ride the damn railroad.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Correct!&#8221; agreed Barkwell; &#8220;she&#8217;s a-goin&#8217; the
+way Rome went&mdash;an Babylone&mdash;an&#8217; Cincinnati&mdash;after
+I left. She runs to a pussy-cafe aristocracy&mdash;<i>an&#8217;</i>
+napkins.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;ll be plumb ruined&mdash;follerin&#8217; them foreign
+styles. The Uhmerican people ain&#8217;t got no right to
+adopt none of them new-fangled notions.&#8221; Weaver
+stared glumly into the darkening plains.</p>
+<p>They aired their discontent long. Directed at the
+town it relieved the pressure of their resentment over
+Trevison&#8217;s habit of depending upon himself. For,
+secretly, both were interested admirers of Manti&#8217;s growing
+importance.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span></p>
+<p>Time was measured by their desires. Sometime before
+midnight Barkwell got up, yawned and stretched.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sleep suits me. If &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; ain&#8217;t reckonin&#8217; on a
+guardian, I ain&#8217;t surprisin&#8217; him none. He&#8217;s mighty
+close-mouthed about his doin&#8217;s, anyway.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re shoutin&#8217;. I ain&#8217;t never seen a man any
+stingier about hidin&#8217; away his doin&#8217;s. He just nacherly
+hawgs all the trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Weaver got up and sauntered to the far end of the
+gallery, leaning far out to look toward Manti. His
+sharp exclamation brought Barkwell leaping to his side,
+and they both watched in perplexity a faint glow in the
+sky in the direction of the town. It died down as they
+watched.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fire&mdash;looks like,&#8221; Weaver growled. &#8220;We&#8217;re
+always too late to horn in on any excitement.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Uh, huh,&#8221; grunted Barkwell. He was staring
+intently at the plains, faintly discernable in the starlight.
+&#8220;There&#8217;s horses out there, Jud! Three or
+four, an&#8217; they&#8217;re comin&#8217; like hell!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They slipped off the gallery into the shadow of some
+trees, both instinctively feeling of their holsters. Standing
+thus they waited.</p>
+<p>The faint beat of hoofs came unmistakably to them.
+They grew louder, drumming over the hard sand of
+the plains, and presently four dark figures loomed out
+of the night and came plunging toward the gallery.
+They came to a halt at the gallery edge, and were
+about to dismount when Barkwell&#8217;s voice, cold and
+truculent, issued from the shadow of the trees:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s eatin&#8217; you guys?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></p>
+<p>There was a short, pregnant silence, and then one
+of the men laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who are you?&#8221; He urged his horse forward.
+But he was brought to a quick halt when Barkwell&#8217;s
+voice came again:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Talk from where you are!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That goes,&#8221; laughed the man. &#8220;Trevison here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What you wantin&#8217; of him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Plenty. We&#8217;re deputies. Trevison burned the
+courthouse and the bank tonight&mdash;and killed Braman.
+We&#8217;re after him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, he ain&#8217;t here.&#8221; Barkwell laughed. &#8220;Burned
+the courthouse, did he? An&#8217; the bank? An&#8217; killed
+Braman? Well, you got to admit that&#8217;s a pretty good
+night&#8217;s work. An&#8217; you&#8217;re wantin&#8217; him!&#8221; Barkwell&#8217;s
+voice leaped; he spoke in short, snappy, metallic sentences
+that betrayed passion long restrained, breaking
+his self-control. &#8220;You&#8217;re deputies, eh? Corrigan&#8217;s
+whelps! Sneaks! Coyotes! Well, you slope&mdash;you
+hear? When I count three, I down you! One! Two!
+Three!&#8221;</p>
+<p>His six-shooter stabbed the darkness at the last word.
+And at his side Weaver&#8217;s pistol barked viciously. But
+the deputies had started at the word &#8220;One,&#8221; and though
+Barkwell, noting the scurrying of their horses, cut the
+final words sharply, the four figures were vague and
+shadowy when the first pistol shot smote the air. Not
+a report floated back to the ears of the two men. They
+watched, with grim pouts on their lips, until the men
+vanished in the star haze of the plains. Then Barkwell
+spoke, raucously:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, we&#8217;ve broke in the game, Jud. We&#8217;re Simon-pure
+outlaws&mdash;like our boss. I got one of them scum&mdash;I
+seen him grab leather. We&#8217;ll all get in, now.
+They&#8217;re after our boss, eh? Well, damn &#8217;em, we&#8217;ll
+show &#8217;em! They&#8217;s eight of the boys on the south fork.
+You get &#8217;em, bring &#8217;em here an&#8217; get rifles. I&#8217;ll hit the
+breeze to the basin an&#8217; rustle the others!&#8221; He was
+running at the last word, and presently two horses
+raced out of the corral gates, clattered past the bunk-house
+and were swallowed in the vast, black space.</p>
+<p>Half an hour later the entire outfit&mdash;twenty men
+besides Barkwell and Weaver&mdash;left the ranchhouse
+and spread, fan-wise, over the plains west of Manti.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>They lost all sense of time. Several of them had
+ridden to Manti, making a round of the places that
+were still open, but had returned, with no word of
+Trevison. Corrigan had claimed to have seen him.
+But then, a man told his questioner, Corrigan claimed
+Trevison had choked the banker to death. He could
+believe both claims, or neither. So far as the man
+himself was concerned, he was not going to commit
+himself. But if Trevison had done the job, he&#8217;d done
+it well. The seekers after information rode out of
+Manti on the run. At some time after midnight the
+entire outfit was grouped near Clay Levins&#8217; house.</p>
+<p>They held a short conference, and then Barkwell rode
+forward and hammered on the door of the cabin.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re wantin&#8217; Clay, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; said Barkwell in
+answer to the scared inquiry that filtered through the
+closed door. &#8220;It&#8217;s the Diamond K outfit.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you want him for?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We was thinkin&#8217; that mebbe he&#8217;d know where &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;
+is. &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; is sort of lost, I reckon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The door flew open and Mrs. Levins, like a pale
+ghost, appeared in the opening. &#8220;Trevison and Clay
+left here tonight. I didn&#8217;t look to see what time. Oh,
+I hope nothing has happened to them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They quieted her fears and fled out into the plains
+again, charging themselves with stupidity for not being
+more diplomatic in dealing with Mrs. Levins. During
+the early hours of the morning they rode again to the
+Diamond K ranchhouse, thinking that perhaps Trevison
+had slipped by them and returned. But Trevison
+had not returned, and the outfit gathered in the timber
+near the house in the faint light of the breaking dawn,
+disgusted, their horses jaded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s mighty hard work tryin&#8217; to be an outlaw in this
+damned dude-ridden country,&#8221; wailed the disappointed
+Weaver. &#8220;Outlaws usual have a den or a cave or a
+mountain fastness, or somethin&#8217;, anyhow&mdash;accordin&#8217;
+to all the literchoor I&#8217;ve read on the subject. If &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;s&#8217;
+got one, he&#8217;s mighty bashful about mentionin&#8217;
+it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Lord!&#8221; exclaimed Barkwell, weakly. &#8220;My
+brains is sure ready for the mourners! Where&#8217;s &#8216;Firebrand&#8217;?
+Why, where would you expect a man to be
+that&#8217;d burned up a courthouse an&#8217; a bank an&#8217; salivated
+a banker? He&#8217;d be hidin&#8217; out, wouldn&#8217;t he, you mis&#8217;able
+box-head! Would he come driftin&#8217; back to the home
+ranch, an&#8217; come out when them damn deputies come
+along, bowin&#8217; an&#8217; scrapin&#8217; an&#8217; sayin&#8217;: &#8216;I&#8217;m here, gentlemen&mdash;I&#8217;ve
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>
+been waitin&#8217; for you to come an&#8217; try
+rope on me, so&#8217;s you&#8217;d be sure to get a good fit!&#8217; Would
+he? You&#8217;re mighty right he&mdash;wouldn&#8217;t! He&#8217;d be
+populatin&#8217; that old pueblo that he&#8217;s been tellin&#8217; me for
+years would make a good fort!&#8221; His horse leaped as
+he drove the spurs in, cruelly, but at the distance of a
+hundred yards he was not more than a few feet in
+advance of the others&mdash;and they, disregarding the
+rules of the game&mdash;were trying to pass him.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>&#8220;There ain&#8217;t a bit of sense of takin&#8217; any risk,&#8221;
+objected Levins from the security of the communal
+chamber, as Trevison peered cautiously around a corner
+of the adobe house. &#8220;It&#8217;d be just the luck of one
+of them critters if they&#8217;d pot you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not thinking of offering myself as a target for
+them,&#8221; the other laughed. &#8220;They&#8217;re still there,&#8221; he
+added a minute later as he stepped into the chamber.
+&#8220;Them shooting you as they did, without warning,
+seems to indicate that they&#8217;ve orders to wipe us out,
+if possible. They&#8217;re deputies. I bumped into Corrigan
+right after I left the bank building, and I suppose
+he has set them on us.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon so. Seems it ain&#8217;t possible, though,&#8221;
+Levins added, doubtfully. &#8220;They was here before you
+come. Your Nigger horse ain&#8217;t takin&#8217; no dust. I
+reckon you didn&#8217;t stop anywheres?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At the Bar B.&#8221; Trevison made this admission
+with some embarrassment.</p>
+<p>But Levins did not reproach him&mdash;he merely
+groaned, eloquently.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span></p>
+<p>Trevison leaned against the opening of the chamber.
+His muscles ached; he was in the grip of a mighty
+weariness. Nature was protesting against the great
+strain that he had placed upon her. But his jaws set
+as he felt the flesh of his legs quivering; he grinned
+the derisive grin of the fighter whose will and courage
+outlast his physical strength. He felt a pulse of contempt
+for himself, and mingling with it was a strange
+elation&mdash;the thought that Rosalind Benham had
+strengthened his failing body, had provided it with the
+fuel necessary to keep it going for hours yet&mdash;as it
+must. He did not trust himself to yield to his passions
+as he stood there&mdash;that might have caused him to
+grow reckless. He permitted the weariness of his
+body to soothe his brain; over him stole a great calm.
+He assured himself that he could throw it off any time.</p>
+<p>But he had deceived himself. Nature had almost
+reached the limit of effort, and the inevitable slow reaction
+was taking place. The tired body could be forced
+on for a while yet, obeying the lethargic impulses of an
+equally tired brain, but the break would come. At this
+moment he was oppressed with a sense of the unreality
+of it all. The pueblo seemed like an ancient city of his
+dreams; the adobe houses details of a weird phantasmagoria;
+his adventures of the past forty-eight hours
+a succession of wild imaginings which he now reviewed
+with a sort of detached interest, as though he had
+watched them from afar.</p>
+<p>The moonlight shone on him; he heard Levins
+exclaim sharply: &#8220;Your arm&#8217;s busted, ain&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He started, swayed, and caught himself, laughing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span>
+lowly, guiltily, for he realized that he had almost fallen
+asleep, standing. He held the arm up to the moonlight,
+examining it, dropping it with a deprecatory word. He
+settled against the wall near the opening again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hell!&#8221; declared Levins, anxiously, &#8220;you&#8217;re all in!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Trevison did not answer. He stole along the outside
+wall of the adobe house and peered out into the
+plains. The men were still where they had been when
+the shot had been fired, and the sight of them brought
+a cold grin to his face. He backed away from the
+corner, dropped to his stomach and wriggled his way
+back to the corner, shoving his rifle in front of him.
+He aimed the weapon deliberately, and pulled the trigger.
+At the flash a smothered cry floated up to him,
+and he drew back, the thud of bullets against the adobe
+walls accompanying him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That leaves seven, Levins,&#8221; he said grimly. &#8220;Looks
+like my trip to Santa Fe is off, eh?&#8221; he laughed. &#8220;Well,
+I&#8217;ve always had a yearning to be besieged, and I&#8217;ll make
+it mighty interesting for those fellows. Do you think
+you can cover that slope, so they can&#8217;t get up there
+while I&#8217;m reconnoitering? It would be certain death
+for me to stick my head around that corner again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At Levins&#8217; emphatic affirmative he was helped to the
+shelter of a recess, from where he had a view of the
+slope, though himself protected by a corner of one of
+the houses; placed a rifle in the wounded man&#8217;s hands,
+and carrying his own, vanished into one of the dark
+passages that weaved through the pueblo.</p>
+<p>He went only a short distance. Emerging from an
+opening in one of the adobe houses he saw a parapet
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>
+wall, sadly crumpled in spots, facing the plains, and
+he dropped to his hands and knees and crept toward it,
+secreting himself behind it and prodding the wall cautiously
+with the barrel of his rifle until he found a joint
+in the stone work where the adobe mud was rotted.
+He poked the muzzle of the rifle through the crevice,
+took careful aim, and had the satisfaction of hearing
+a savage curse in the instant following the flash. He
+threw himself flat immediately, listening to the spatter
+and whine of the bullets of the volley that greeted his
+shot. They kept it up long&mdash;but when there was a
+momentary cessation he crept back to the entrance of
+the adobe house, entered, followed another passage and
+came out on the ledge farther along the side of the
+pueblo. He halted in a dense shadow and looked
+toward the spot where the men had been. They had
+vanished.</p>
+<p>There was nothing to do but to wait, and he sank
+behind a huge block of stone in an angle of the ledge,
+noting with satisfaction that he could see the slope
+that he had set Levins to guard.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m the boss of this fort if I don&#8217;t go to sleep,&#8221;
+he told himself grimly as he stretched out. He lay
+there, watching, while the moonlight faded, while a
+gray streak in the east slowly widened, presaging the
+dawn. Stretched flat, his aching muscles welcoming
+the support of the cool stone of the ledge, he had to
+fight off the drowsiness that assailed him.</p>
+<p>An hour dragged by. He knew the deputies were
+watching, no doubt having separated to conceal themselves
+behind convenient boulders that dotted the plains
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>
+at the foot of the slope. Or perhaps while he had been
+in the passages of the pueblo, changing his position,
+some of them might have stolen to the numerous crags
+and outcroppings of rock at the base of the pueblo.
+They might now be massing for a rush up the slope.
+But he doubted they would risk the latter move, for they
+knew that he must be on the alert, and they had cause
+to fear his rifle.</p>
+<p>Once he rested his head on his extended right arm,
+and the contact was so agreeable that he allowed it to
+remain there&mdash;long. He caught himself in time; in
+another second he would have been too late. He saw
+the figure of a man on the slope a foot or two below
+the crest. He was flat on his stomach, no doubt having
+crept there during the minutes that Trevison had
+been enjoying his rest, and at the instant Trevison saw
+him he was raising his rifle, directing it at the recess
+where Levins had been left, on guard.</p>
+<p>Trevison was wide awake now, and his marksmanship
+as deadly as ever. He waited until the man&#8217;s rifle
+came to a level. Then his own weapon spat viciously.
+The man rose to his knees, reeling. Another rifle
+cracked&mdash;from the recess where Levins was concealed,
+this time&mdash;and the man sank to the dust of the slope,
+rolling over and over until he reached the bottom,
+where he stretched out and lay prone. There was a
+shout of rage from a section of rock-strewn level near
+the foot of the slope, and Trevison&#8217;s lips curled with
+satisfaction. The second shot had told him that a fear
+he had entertained momentarily was unfounded&mdash;Levins
+was apparently quite alive.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></p>
+<p>He raised himself cautiously, backed away from the
+rock behind which he had been concealed, and wheeled,
+intending to join Levins. A faint sound reached his
+ears from the plains, and he faced around again, to see
+a group of horsemen riding toward the pueblo. They
+were coming fast, racing ahead of a dust cloud, and
+were perhaps a quarter of a mile distant. But Trevison
+knew them, and stepped boldly out to the edge
+of the stone ledge waving his hat to them, laughing
+full-throatedly, his voice vibrating a little as he spoke:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good old Barkwell!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Barkwell pulled his horse to a sliding halt as he saw
+the figure on the pueblo, outlined distinctly in the clear
+white light of the dawn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s all right!&#8221; he declared to the others as they
+followed his example and drew their beasts down.
+&#8220;Them&#8217;s some of the scum that&#8217;s been after him,&#8221; he
+added as several horsemen swept around the far side
+of the pueblo. &#8220;It was them we heard shootin&#8217;.&#8221; The
+outfit sat silent on their horses and watched the men
+ride over the plains toward another group of horsemen
+that the Diamond K men had observed some time
+before riding toward the pueblo,</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yep!&#8221; Barkwell said, now; &#8220;that other bunch is
+deputies, too. It&#8217;s mighty plain. This bunch rounded
+up &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; an&#8217; sent some one back for reinforcements.&#8221;
+He swept the Diamond K outfit with a snarling
+smile. &#8220;They&#8217;re goin&#8217; to need &#8217;em, too! I reckon
+we&#8217;d better wait for them to play their hand. It&#8217;s about
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>
+a stand off in numbers. We don&#8217;t stand no slack, boys.
+We&#8217;re outlawed already, from the ruckus of last night,
+an&#8217; if they start anything we&#8217;ve got to wipe &#8217;em out!
+You heard &#8217;em shootin&#8217; at the boss, an&#8217; they ain&#8217;t no
+pussy-kitten bunch! I&#8217;ll do the gassin&#8217;&mdash;if there&#8217;s any
+to be done&mdash;an&#8217; when I draw, you guys do your
+damnedest!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The outfit set itself to wait. Over on the edge of
+the pueblo they could see Trevison. He was bending
+over something, and when they saw him stoop and lift
+the object, heaving it to his shoulder and walking away
+with it, a sullen murmur ran over the outfit, and lips
+grew stiff and white with rage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Clay Levins, boys!&#8221; said Barkwell. &#8220;They&#8217;ve
+plugged him! Do you reckon we&#8217;ve got to go back
+to Levins&#8217; shack an&#8217; tell his wife that we let them
+skunks get away after makin&#8217; orphants of her kids?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m jumpin&#8217;!&#8221; shrieked Jud Weaver, his voice coming
+chokingly with passion. &#8220;I ain&#8217;t waitin&#8217; one damned
+minute for any palaver! Either them deputies is wiped
+out, or I am!&#8221; He dug the spurs into his horse, drawing
+his six-shooter as the animal leaped.</p>
+<p>Weaver&#8217;s horse led the outfit by only three or four
+jumps, and they swept over the level like a devastating
+cyclone, the spiral dust cloud that rose behind them
+following them lazily, sucked along by the wind of
+their passing.</p>
+<p>The group of deputies had halted; they were sitting
+tense and silent in their saddles when the Diamond K
+outfit came up, slowing down as they drew nearer, and
+halting within ten feet of the others, spreading out in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>
+a crude semi-circle, so that each man had an unobstructed
+view of the deputies.</p>
+<p>Barkwell had no chance to talk. Before he could
+get his breath after pulling his horse down, Weaver,
+his six-shooter in hand, its muzzle directed fairly at
+Gieger, who was slightly in advance of his men, fumed
+forth:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What in hell do you-all mean by tryin&#8217; to herd-ride
+our boss? Talk fast, you eagle-beaked turkey
+buzzard, or I salivates you rapid!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The situation was one of intense delicacy. Gieger
+might have averted the threatening clash with a judicious
+use of soft, placating speech. But it pleased him
+to bluster.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are deputies, acting under orders from the
+court. We are after a murderer, and we mean to get
+him!&#8221; he said, coldly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Deputies! Hell!&#8221; Barkwell&#8217;s voice rose, sharply
+scornful and mocking. &#8220;Deputies! Crooks! Gun-fighters!
+Pluguglies!&#8221; His eyes, bright, alert, gleaming
+like a bird&#8217;s, were roving over the faces in the
+group of deputies. &#8220;A damn fine bunch of guys to
+represent the law! There&#8217;s Dakota Dick, there! Tinhorn,
+rustler! There&#8217;s Red Classen! Stage robber!
+An&#8217; Pepper Ridgely, a plain, ornery thief! An&#8217; Kid
+Dorgan, a sneakin&#8217; killer! An&#8217; Buff Keller, an&#8217; Andy
+Watts, an&#8217; Pig Mugley, an&#8217;&mdash;oh, hell! Deputies!
+Law!&mdash;&mdash;Ah&mdash;hah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>One of the men had reached for his holster.
+Weaver&#8217;s gun barked twice and the man pitched limply
+forward to his horse&#8217;s neck. Other weapons flashed;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>
+the calm of the early morning was rent by the hoarse,
+guttural cries of men in the grip of the blood-lust, the
+sustained and venomous popping of pistols, the queer,
+sodden impact of lead against flesh, the terror-snorts
+of horses, and the grunts of men, falling heavily.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>A big man in khaki, loping his horse up the slope
+of an arroyo half a mile distant, started at the sound
+of the first shot and raced over the crest. He
+pulled the horse to an abrupt halt as his gaze swept
+the plains in front of him. He saw riderless horses
+running frantically away from a smoking blot, he saw
+the blot streaked with level, white smoke-spurts that
+ballooned upward quickly; he heard the dull, flat reports
+that followed the smoke-spurts.</p>
+<p>It seemed to be over in an instant. The blot split
+up, galloping horses and yelling men burst out of it.
+The big man had reached the crest of the arroyo at the
+critical second in which the balance of victory wavers
+uncertainly. With thrusting chin, lips in a hideous pout,
+and with sullen, blazing eyes, he watched the battle go
+against him. Fifteen cowboys&mdash;he counted them, deliberately,
+coldly, despite the rage-mania that had seized
+him&mdash;were spurring after eight other men whom he
+knew for his own. As he watched he saw two of these
+tumble from their horses. And at a distance he saw
+the loops of ropes swing out to enmesh four more&mdash;who
+were thrown and dragged; he watched darkly as
+the remaining two raised their hands above their heads.
+Then his lips came out of their pout and were wreathed
+in a bitter snarl.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Licked!&#8221; he muttered. &#8220;Twelve put out of business.
+But there&#8217;s thirty more&mdash;if the damn fools have
+come in to town! That&#8217;s two to one!&#8221; He laughed,
+wheeled his horse toward Manti, rode a few feet down
+the slope of the arroyo, halted and sat motionless in
+the saddle, looking back. He smiled with cold satisfaction.
+&#8220;Lucky for me that cinch strap broke,&#8221; he
+said.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Trevison was placing Levins&#8217; limp form across the
+saddle on Nigger&#8217;s back when the faint morning breeze
+bore to his ears the report of Weaver&#8217;s pistol. A rattling
+volley followed the first report, and Trevison led
+Nigger close to the edge of the ledge in time to observe
+the battle as Corrigan had seen it. He hurried Nigger
+down the slope, but he had to be careful with his burden.
+Reaching the level he lifted Levins off, laid him
+gently on the top of a huge flat rock, and then leaped
+into the saddle and sent Nigger tearing over the plains
+toward the scene of the battle.</p>
+<p>It was over when he arrived. A dozen men were
+lying in the tall grass. Some were groaning, writhing;
+others were quiet and motionless. Four or five of
+them were arrayed in chaps. His lips grimmed as his
+gaze swept them. He dismounted and went to them,
+one after another. He stooped long over one.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ve got Weaver,&#8221; he heard a voice say. And
+he started and looked around, and seeing no one near,
+knew it was his own voice that he heard. It was dry
+and light&mdash;as a man&#8217;s voice might be who has run
+far and fast. He stood for a while, looking down at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>
+Weaver. His brain was reeling, as it had reeled over
+on the ledge of the pueblo a few minutes before, when
+he had discovered a certain thing. It was not a weakness;
+it was a surge of reviving rage, an accession of
+passion that made his head swim with its potency, made
+his muscles swell with a strength that he had not known
+for many hours. Never in his life had he felt more
+like crying. His emotions seared his soul as a white-hot
+iron sears the flesh; they burned into him, scorching
+his pity and his impulses of mercy, withering them,
+blighting them. He heard himself whining sibilantly, as
+he had heard boys whine when fighting, with eagerness
+and lust for blows. It was the insensate, raging fury of
+the fight-madness that had gripped him, and he suddenly
+yielded to it and raised his head, laughing harshly,
+with panting, labored breath.</p>
+<p>Barkwell rode up to him, speaking hoarsely: &#8220;We
+come pretty near wipin&#8217; &#8217;em out, &#8216;Firebrand!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked up at his foreman, and the latter&#8217;s face
+blanched. &#8220;God!&#8221; he said. He whispered to a cowboy
+who had joined him: &#8220;The boss is pretty near loco&mdash;looks
+like!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ve killed Weaver,&#8221; muttered Trevison.
+&#8220;He&#8217;s here. They killed Clay, too&mdash;he&#8217;s down on a
+rock near the slope.&#8221; He laughed, and tightened his
+belt. The record book which he had carried in his
+waistband all along interfered with this work, and he
+drew it out, throwing it from him. &#8220;Clay was worth
+a thousand of them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Barkwell got down and seized the book, watching
+Trevison closely.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Boss,&#8221; he said, as Trevison ran to his
+horse and threw himself into the saddle; &#8220;you&#8217;re
+bushed, mighty near&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>If Trevison heard his first words he had paid no
+attention to them. He could not have heard the last
+words, for Nigger had lunged forward, running with
+great, long, catlike leaps in the direction of Manti.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good God!&#8221; yelled Barkwell to some of the men
+who had ridden up; &#8220;the damn fool is goin&#8217; to town!
+They&#8217;ll salivate him, sure as hell! Some of you stay
+here&mdash;two&#8217;s enough! The rest of you come along
+with me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They were after Trevison within a few seconds, but
+the black horse was far ahead, running without hitch
+or stumble, as straight toward Manti as his willing
+muscles and his loyal heart could take him.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Corrigan had seen the black bolt that had rushed
+toward him out of the spot where the blot had been.
+He cursed hoarsely and drove the spurs deep into the
+flanks of his horse, and the animal, squealing with pain
+and fury, leaped down the side of the arroyo, crossed
+the bottom in two or three bounds and stretched away
+toward Manti.</p>
+<p>A cold fear had seized the big man&#8217;s heart. It made
+a sweat break out on his forehead, it caused his hand
+to tremble as he flung it around to his hip in search of
+his pistol. He tried to shake the feeling off, but it
+clung insistently to him, making him catch his breath.
+His horse was big, rangy, and strong, but he forced it
+to such a pace during the first mile of the ride that he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+could feel its muscles quivering under the saddle skirts.
+And he looked back at the end of the mile, to see the
+black horse at about the same distance from him; possibly
+the distance had been shortened. It seemed to
+Corrigan that he had never seen a horse that traveled
+as smoothly and evenly as the big black, or that ran
+with as little effort. He began to loathe the black with
+an intensity equaled only by that which he felt for his
+rider.</p>
+<p>He held his lead for another mile. Glancing back a
+little later he noted with a quickening pulse that the
+distance had been shortened by several hundred feet,
+and that the black seemed to be traveling with as little
+effort as ever. Also, for the first time, Corrigan noticed
+the presence of other riders, behind Trevison. They
+were topping a slight rise at the instant he glanced
+back, and were at least a mile behind his pursuer.</p>
+<p>At first, mingled with his fear, Corrigan had felt
+a slight disgust for himself in yielding to his sudden
+panic. He had never been in the habit of running.
+He had been as proud of his courage as he had been
+of his cleverness and his keenness in planning and plotting.
+It had been his mental boast that in every crisis
+his nerve was coldest. But now he nursed a vagrant,
+furtive hope that waiting for him at Manti would be
+some of those men whom he had hired at his own
+expense to impersonate deputies. The presence of the
+hope was as inexplicable as the fear that had set him
+to running from Trevison. Two or three weeks ago
+he would have faced both Trevison and his men and
+brazened it out. But of late a growing dread of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>
+man had seized him. Never before had he met a man
+who refused to be beaten, or who had fought him as
+recklessly and relentlessly.</p>
+<p>He jeered at himself as he rode, telling himself that
+when Trevison got near enough he would stand and
+have it out with him&mdash;for he knew that the fight had
+narrowed down between them until it was as Trevison
+had said, man to man&mdash;but as he rode his breath came
+faster, his backward glances grew more frequent and
+fearful, and the cold sweat on his forehead grew
+clammy. Fear, naked and shameful, had seized him.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Behind him, lean, gaunt, haggard; seeing nothing
+but the big man ahead of him, feeling nothing but an
+insane desire to maim or slay him, rode a man who in
+forty-eight hours had been transformed from a frank,
+guileless, plain-speaking human, to a rage-drunken savage&mdash;a
+monomaniac who, as he leaned over Nigger&#8217;s
+mane, whispered and whined and mewed, as his forebears,
+in some tropical jungle, voiced their passions
+when they set forth to slay those who had sought to
+despoil them.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXVIII_THE_DREGS' id='XXVIII_THE_DREGS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+<h3>THE DREGS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When the Benham private car came to a stop
+on the switch, Rosalind swung up the steps and
+upon the platform just as J. C., ruddy, smiling and
+bland, opened the door. She was in his arms in an
+instant, murmuring her joy. He stroked her hair, then
+held her off for a good look at her, and inquired,
+unctuously:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are you doing in town so early, my dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221; She hid her face on his shoulder, reluctant
+to tell him. But she knew he must be told, and so
+she steeled herself, stepping back and looking at him,
+her heart pounding madly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Father; these people have discovered that Corrigan
+has been trying to cheat them!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She would have gone on, but the sickly, ghastly pallor
+of his face frightened her. She swayed and leaned
+against the railing of the platform, a sinking, deadly
+apprehension gnawing at her, for it seemed from the
+expression of J. C.&#8217;s face that he had some knowledge
+of Corrigan&#8217;s intentions. But J. C. had been through
+too many crises to surrender at the first shot in this one.
+Still he got a good grip on himself before he attempted
+to answer, and then his voice was low and intoned with
+casual surprise:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Trying to cheat them? How, my dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By trying to take their land from them. You had
+no knowledge of it, Father?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who has been saying that?&#8221; he demanded, with a
+fairly good pretense of righteous anger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nobody. But I thought&mdash;I&mdash;Oh, thank God!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, well,&#8221; he bluffed with faint reproach;
+&#8220;things are coming to a pretty pass when one&#8217;s own
+daughter is the first to suspect him of wrong-doing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t, Father. I was merely&mdash;I don&#8217;t know
+what I <i>did</i> think! There has been so much excitement!
+Everything is <i>so</i> upset! They have blown up the mining
+machinery, burned the bank and the courthouse;
+Judge Lindman was abducted and found; Braman was
+killed&mdash;choked to death; the Vigilantes are&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good God!&#8221; Benham interrupted her, staggering
+back against the rear of the coach. &#8220;Who has
+been at the bottom of all this lawlessness?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He gasped, in spite of the fact that he had suspected
+what her answer would be.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is Corrigan? Where&#8217;s Trevison?&#8221; He
+demanded, his hands shaking. &#8220;Answer me! Where
+are they?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; the girl returned, dully. &#8220;They
+say Trevison is hiding in a pueblo not far from the
+Bar B. And that Corrigan left here early this morning,
+with a number of deputies, to try to capture him.
+And those men&mdash;&#8221; She indicated the horsemen gathered
+in front of the <i>Belmont</i>, whom he had not seen,
+&#8220;are organizing to go to Trevison&#8217;s rescue. They
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>
+have discovered that Corrigan murdered Braman,
+though Corrigan accused Trevison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>J. C. flattened himself against the rear wall of the
+coach and looked with horror upon the armed riders.
+There were forty or fifty of them now, and others were
+joining the group. &#8220;Where&#8217;s Judge Lindman?&#8221; he
+faltered. &#8220;Can&#8217;t this lawlessness be stopped?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is only a few minutes ago that Judge Lindman
+was dragged from a shed into which he had been forced
+by Corrigan&mdash;after being beaten by him. He made
+a public confession of his part in the attempted fraud,
+and charged Corrigan with coercing him. Those men
+are aroused, Father. I don&#8217;t know what the end will
+be, but I am afraid&mdash;I&#8217;m afraid they&#8217;ll&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall give the engineer orders to pull my car out
+of here!&#8221; J. C.&#8217;s face was chalky white.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, no!&#8221; cried the girl, sharply. &#8220;That would
+make them think you were&mdash;Don&#8217;t <i>run</i>, Father!&#8221;
+she begged, omitting the word which she dreaded to
+think might become attached to him should he go away,
+now that some of them had seen him. &#8220;We&#8217;ll stand
+our ground, Father. If Corrigan has done those things
+he deserves to be punished!&#8221; Her lips, white and
+stiff, closed firmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes,&#8221; he said; &#8220;that&#8217;s right&mdash;we won&#8217;t run.&#8221;
+But he drew her inside, despite her objections, and
+from a window they watched the members of the Vigilantes
+gathering, bristling with weapons, a sinister
+and ominous arm of that law which is the dread and
+horror of the evil-doer.</p>
+<p>There came a movement, concerted, accompanied by
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>
+a low rumble as of waves breaking on a rocky shore.
+It brought the girl out of her chair, through the door
+and upon the car platform, where she stood, her hands
+clasped over her breast, her breath coming gaspingly.
+His knees knocking together, his face the ashen gray
+of death, Benham stumbled after her. He did not
+want to go; did not care to see this thing&mdash;what might
+happen&mdash;what his terror told him <i>would</i> happen; but
+he was forced out upon the platform by the sheer urge
+of a morbid curiosity that there was no denying; it
+had laid hold of his soul, and though he cringed and
+shivered and tottered, he went out, standing close to
+the iron rail, gripping it with hands that grew blueish-white
+around the knuckles; watching with eyes that
+bulged, his lips twitching over soundless words. For
+he could not hold himself guiltless in this thing; it could
+not have happened had he tempered his smug complacence
+with thoughts of justice. He groaned, gibbering,
+for he stood on the brink at this minute, looking down
+at the lashing sea of retribution.</p>
+<p>The girl paid no attention to him. She was watching
+the men down the street. The concerted movement
+had come from them. Nearly a hundred riders were
+on the move. Lefingwell, huge, grim, led them down
+the street toward the private car. For an instant the
+girl felt a throb of terror, thinking that they might
+have designs on the man who stood at the railing near
+her, unable to move&mdash;for he had the same thought.
+She murmured thankfully when they wheeled, and without
+looking in her direction loped their horses toward
+a wide, vacant space between some buildings, which led
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span>
+out into the plains, and through which she had ridden
+often when entering Manti. Watching the men, shuddering
+at the ominous aspect they presented, she saw
+a tremor run through them&mdash;as though they all formed
+one body. They came to a sudden stop. She heard a
+ripple of sound arise from them, amazement and anticipation.
+And then, as though with preconcerted design,
+though she had heard no word spoken, the group
+divided, splitting asunder with a precision that deepened
+the conviction of preconcertedness, ranging themselves
+on each side of the open space, leaving it gaping
+barrenly, unobstructed&mdash;a stretch of windrowed alkali
+dust, deep, light and feathery.</p>
+<p>Silence, like a stroke, fell over the town. The girl
+saw people running toward the open space, but they
+seemed to make no noise&mdash;they might have been dream
+people. And then, noting that they all stared in one
+direction, she looked over their heads. Not more than
+four or five hundred feet from the open space, and
+heading directly toward it, thundered a rider on a tall,
+strong, rangy horse. The beast&#8217;s chest was foam-flecked,
+the white lather that billowed around its muzzle
+was stained darkly. But it came on with heart-breaking
+effort, giving its rider its all. Behind the first rider
+came a second, not more than fifty feet distant from
+the other, on a black horse which ran with no effort,
+seemingly, sliding along with great, smooth undulations,
+his mighty muscles flowing like living things under
+his glossy, somber coat.</p>
+<p>The girl saw the man on his back leaning forward,
+a snarling, terrible grin on his face. She saw the first
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>
+rider wheel when he reached the edge of the open
+space near the waiting Vigilantes, bring his horse to a
+sliding halt and face toward his pursuer. He clawed at
+a hip pocket, drawing a pistol that flashed in the first
+rays of the morning sun&mdash;it belched fire and smoke
+in a continuous stream, seemingly straight at the rider
+of the black horse. One&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;five&mdash;six
+times! The girl counted. But the first man&#8217;s
+hand wabbled, and the rider of the black horse came
+on like a demon astride a black bolt, a laugh of bitter
+derision on his lips. The black did not swerve. Straight
+and true in his headlong flight he struck the other horse.
+They went down in a smother of dust, the two horses
+grunting, scrambling and kicking. The girl had seen
+the rider of the black horse lunge forward at the instant
+of impact; he had thrown himself at the other man
+as she had seen football players launch themselves at
+players of the opposition, and they had both reeled out
+of their saddles to disappear in the smother of dust.</p>
+<p>Men left the fringe of the living wall flanking the
+open space and seized the two horses, leading them
+away. The smother drifted, and the girl screamed at
+sight of the two raging things that rolled and burrowed
+in the deep dust of the street.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>They got up as she watched them, springing apart
+hesitating for an awful instant to sob breath into their
+lungs; then they rushed together, striking bitter, sledge-hammer
+blows that sounded like the smashing of flat
+rocks, falling from a great height, on the surface of
+water. She shrieked once, wildly, beseeching someone
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>
+to stop them, but no man paid any attention to her cry.
+They sat on their horses, silent, tense, grim, and she
+settled into a coma of terror, an icy paralysis gripping
+her. She heard her father muttering incoherently at
+her side, droning and puling something over and over
+in a wailing monotone&mdash;she caught it after a while;
+he was calling upon his God&mdash;in an hour that could
+not have been were it not for his own moral flaccidness.</p>
+<p>The dust under the feet of the fighting men leveled
+under their shifting, dragging feet; it bore the print
+of their bodies where they had lain and rolled in it;
+erupting volcanoes belched it heavily upward; it caught
+and gripped their legs to the ankles, making their movements
+slow and sodden. This condition favored the
+larger man. He lashed out a heavy fist that caught
+Trevison full and fair on the jaw, and the latter&#8217;s face
+turned ashy white as he sank to his knees. Corrigan
+stopped to catch his breath before he hurled himself
+forward, and this respite, brief as it was, helped the
+other to shake off the deadening effect of the blow.
+He moved his head slightly as Corrigan swung at it,
+and the blow missed, its force pulling the big man off
+his feet, so that he tumbled headlong over his adversary.
+He was up again in a flash though, for he was
+fresher than his enemy. They clinched, and stood
+straining, matching strength against strength, sheer,
+without trickery, for the madness of murder was in the
+heart of one and the desperation of fear in the soul of
+the other, and they thought of nothing but to crush
+and batter and pound.</p>
+<p>Corrigan&#8217;s strength was slightly the greater, but it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>
+was offset by the other&#8217;s fury. In the clinch the big
+man&#8217;s right hand came up, the heel of the palm shoved
+with malignant ferocity against Trevison&#8217;s chin. Corrigan&#8217;s
+left arm was around Trevison&#8217;s waist, squeezing
+it like a vise, and the whole strength of Corrigan&#8217;s
+right arm was exerted to force the other&#8217;s head back.
+Trevison tried to slip his head sideways to escape the
+hold, but the effort was fruitless. Changing his tactics,
+his breath lagging in his throat from the terrible
+pressure on it, Trevison worked his right hand into
+the other&#8217;s stomach with the force and regularity of a
+piston rod. The big man writhed under the punishment,
+dropping his hand from Trevison&#8217;s chin to his
+waist, swung him from his feet and threw him from
+him as a man throws a bag of meal.</p>
+<p>He was after him before he landed, but the other
+writhed and wriggled in the air like a cat, and when the
+big man reached for him, trying again to clinch, he
+evaded the arm and landed a crushing blow on the
+other&#8217;s chin that snapped his head back as though it
+were swung from a hinge, and sent him reeling, to his
+knees in the dust.</p>
+<p>The watching girl saw the ring of men around the
+fighters contract; she saw Trevison dive headlong at
+the kneeling man; with fingers working in a fury of
+impotence she swayed at the iron rail, leaning far over
+it, her eyes strained, her breath bated, constricting her
+lungs as though a steel band were around them. For
+she seemed to feel that the end was near.</p>
+<p>She saw them, locked in each other&#8217;s embrace, stagger
+to their feet. Corrigan&#8217;s head was wabbling. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+was trying to hold the other to him that he might
+escape the lashing blows that were driven at his head.
+The girl saw his hold broken, and as he reeled, catching
+another blow in the mouth, he swung toward her
+and she saw that his lips were smashed, the blood from
+them trickling down over his chin. There was a gleam
+of wild, despairing terror in his eyes&mdash;revealing the
+dawning consciousness of approaching defeat, complete
+and terrible. She saw Trevison start another blow,
+swinging his fist upward from his knee. It landed with
+a sodden squish on the big man&#8217;s jaw. His eyes snapped
+shut, and he dropped soundlessly, face down in the dust.</p>
+<p>For a space Trevison stood, swaying drunkenly, looking
+down at his beaten enemy. Then he drew himself
+erect with a mighty effort and swept the crowd with a
+glance, the fires of passion still leaping and smoldering
+in his eyes. He seemed for the first time to see the
+Vigilantes, to realize the significance of their presence,
+and as he wheeled slowly his lips parted in a grin of
+bitter satisfaction. He staggered around the form of
+his fallen enemy, his legs bending at the knees, his
+feet dragging in the dust. It seemed to the girl that
+he was waiting for Corrigan to get up that he might
+resume the fight, and she cried out protestingly. He
+wheeled at the sound of her voice and faced her, rocking
+back and forth on his heels and toes, and the glow
+of dull astonishment in his eyes told her that he was
+now for the first time aware of her presence. He
+bowed to her, gravely, losing his balance in the effort,
+reeling weakly to recover it.</p>
+<p>And then a crush of men blotted him out&mdash;the ring
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>
+of Vigilantes had closed around him. She saw Barkwell
+lunging through the press to gain Trevison&#8217;s side;
+she got a glimpse of him a minute later, near Trevison.
+The street had become a sea of jostling, shoving
+men and prancing horses. She wanted to get away&mdash;somewhere&mdash;to
+shut this sight from her eyes. For
+though one horror was over, another impended. She
+knew it, but could not move. A voice boomed hoarsely,
+commandingly, above the buzz of many others&mdash;it
+was Lefingwell&#8217;s, and she cringed at the sound of it.
+There was a concerted movement; the Vigilantes were
+shoving the crowd back, clearing a space in the center.
+In the cleared space two men were lifting Corrigan to
+his feet. He was reeling in their grasp, his chin on his
+chest, his face dust-covered, disfigured, streaked with
+blood. He was conquered, his spirit broken, and her
+heart ached with pity for him despite her horror for
+his black deeds. The loop of a rope swung out as
+she watched; it fell with a horrible swish over Corrigan&#8217;s
+head and was drawn taut, swiftly, and a hoarse
+roar of approval drowned her shriek.</p>
+<p>She heard Trevison&#8217;s voice, muttering in protest,
+but his words, like her shriek, were lost in the confusion
+of sound. She saw him fling his arms wide, sending
+Barkwell and another man reeling from him; he reached
+for the pistol at his side and leveled it at the crowd.
+Those nearest him shrank, their faces blank with fear
+and astonishment. But the man with the rope stood
+firm, as did Lefingwell, grim, his face darkening with
+wrath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is the law actin&#8217; here, &#8216;Firebrand,&#8217;&#8221; he said,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>
+his voice level. &#8220;You&#8217;ve done your bit, an&#8217; you&#8217;re
+due to step back an&#8217; let justice take a hand. This here
+skunk has outraged every damned rule of decency an&#8217;
+honor. He&#8217;s tried to steal all our land; he&#8217;s corrupted
+our court, nearly guzzled Judge Lindman to death,
+killed Braman&mdash;an&#8217; Barkwell says the bunch of pluguglies
+he hired to pose as deputies, has killed Clay
+Levins an&#8217; four or five of the Diamond K men. That&#8217;s
+plenty. We&#8217;d admire to give in to you. We&#8217;ll do anything
+else you say. But this has got to be done.&#8221;</p>
+<p>While Lefingwell had been talking two of the Vigilantes
+had slipped to the rear of Trevison. As Lefingwell
+concluded they leaped. The arms of one man
+went around Trevison&#8217;s neck; the other man lunged
+low and pinned his arms to his sides, one hand grasping
+the pistol and wrenching it from his hand. The crowd
+closed again. The girl saw Corrigan lifted to the back
+of a horse, and she shut her eyes and hung dizzily to
+the railing, while tumult and confusion raged around
+her.</p>
+<p>She opened her eyes a little later, to see Barkwell
+and another man leading Trevison into the front door
+of the <i>Castle</i>. The street around the car was deserted,
+save for two or three men who were watching her curiously.
+She felt her father&#8217;s arms around her, and she
+was led into the car, her knees shaking, her soul sick
+with the horror of it all.</p>
+<p>Half an hour later, as she sat at one of the windows,
+staring stonily out in the shimmering sunlight of the
+street, she saw some of the Vigilantes returning. She
+shrank back from the window, shuddering.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XXIX_THE_CALM' id='XXIX_THE_CALM'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+<h3>THE CALM</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The day seemed to endure for an age. Rosalind
+did not leave the car; she did not go near her
+father, shut up alone in his apartment; she ate nothing,
+ignoring the negro attendant when he told her
+that lunch was served, huddled in a chair beside an
+open window she decided a battle. She saw the forces
+of reason and justice rout the hosts of hatred and
+crime, and she got up finally, her face pallid, but resolute,
+secure in the knowledge that she had decided
+wisely. She pitied Corrigan. Had it been within her
+power she would have prevented the tragedy. And
+yet she could not blame these people. They were playing
+the game honestly, and their patience had been
+sadly strained by one player who had persisted in breaking
+the rules. He had been swept away by his peers,
+which was as fair a way as any law&mdash;any human law&mdash;could
+deal with him. In her own East he would
+have paid the same penalty. The method would have
+been more refined, to be sure; there would have been
+a long legal squabble, with its tedious delays, but in
+the end Corrigan would have paid. There was a retributive
+justice for all those who infracted the rules of
+the game. It had found Corrigan.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span></p>
+<p>At three o&#8217;clock in the afternoon she washed her
+face. The cool water refreshed her, and with reviving
+spirits she combed her hair, brushed the dust from her
+clothing, and looked into a mirror. There were dark
+hollows under her eyes, a haunting, dreading expression
+in them. For she could not help thinking about
+what had happened there&mdash;down the street where the
+Vigilantes had gone.</p>
+<p>She dropped listlessly into another chair beside a
+window, this time facing the station. She saw her
+horse, hitched to the rail at the station platform, where
+she had left it that morning. <i>That</i> seemed to have
+been days ago! A period of aching calm had succeeded
+the tumult of the morning. The street was soundless,
+deserted. Those men who had played leading parts in
+the tragedy were not now visible. She would have
+deserted the town too, had it not been for her father.
+The tragedy had unnerved him, and she must stay
+with him until he recovered. She had asked the porter
+about him, and the latter had reported that he seemed
+to be asleep.</p>
+<p>A breeze carried a whisper to her as she sat at the
+window:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s &#8216;Firebrand&#8217; now?&#8221; said a voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sleepin&#8217;. The clerk in the <i>Castle</i> says he&#8217;s makin&#8217;
+up for lost time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She did not bother to try to see the owners of the
+voices; her gaze was on the plains, far and vast; and
+the sky, clear, with a pearly shimmer that dazzled her.
+She closed her eyes. She could not have told how long
+she slept. She awoke to the light touch of the porter,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span>
+and she saw Trevison standing in the open doorway
+of the car.</p>
+<p>The dust of the battle had been removed. An admiring
+barber had worked carefully over him; a doctor
+had mended his arm. Except for a noticeable thinness
+of the face, and a certain drawn expression of
+the eyes, he was the same Trevison who had spoken
+so frankly to her one day out on the plains when he
+had taken her into his confidence. In the look that he
+gave her now was the same frankness, clouded a little,
+she thought, by some emotion&mdash;which she could
+not fathom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have come to apologize,&#8221; he said; &#8220;for various
+unjust thoughts with which I have been obsessed.&#8221;
+Before she could reply he had taken two or three swift
+steps and was standing over her, and was speaking again,
+his voice vibrant and regretful: &#8220;I ought to have
+known better than to think&mdash;what I did&mdash;of you. I
+have no excuses to make, except that I was insane with
+a fear that my ten years of labor and lonesomeness were
+to be wasted. I have just had a talk with Hester Harvey,
+and she has shown me what a fool I have been.
+She&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Rosalind got up, laughing lowly, tremulously. &#8220;I
+talked with Hester this morning. And I think&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She told you&mdash;&#8221; he began, his voice leaping.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Many things.&#8221; She looked straight at him, her
+eyes glowing, but they drooped under the heat of his.
+&#8220;You don&#8217;t need to feel elated over it&mdash;there were
+two of us.&#8221; She felt that the surge of joy that ran
+over her would have shown in her face had it not been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>
+for a sudden recollection of what the Vigilantes had
+done that morning. That recollection paled her cheeks
+and froze the smile on her lips.</p>
+<p>He was watching her closely and saw her face harden.
+A shadow passed over his own. He thought he could
+see the hopelessness of staying longer. &#8220;A woman&#8217;s
+love,&#8221; he said, gloomily, &#8220;is a wonderful thing. It
+clings through trouble and tragedy&mdash;never faltering.&#8221;
+She looked at him, startled, trying to solve the enigma
+of this speech. He laughed, bitterly. &#8220;That&#8217;s what
+makes a woman superior to mere man. Love exalts
+her. It makes a savage of a man. I suppose it is
+&#8216;good-bye.&#8217;&#8221; He held out a hand to her and she took
+it, holding it limply, looking at him in wonderment, her
+heart heavy with regret. &#8220;I wish you luck and happiness,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;Corrigan is a man in spite of&mdash;of
+many faults. You can redeem him; you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Is</i> a man!&#8221; Her hand tightened on his; he could
+feel her tremble. &#8220;Why&mdash;why&mdash;I thought&mdash;Didn&#8217;t
+they&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t they tell you? The fools!&#8221; He laughed
+derisively. &#8220;They let him go. They knew I wouldn&#8217;t
+want it. They did it for me. He went East on the
+noon train&mdash;quite alive, I assure you. I am glad of
+it&mdash;for your sake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For my sake!&#8221; Her voice lifted in mingled joy
+and derision, and both her hands were squeezing his
+with a pressure that made his blood leap with a longing
+to possess her. &#8220;For <i>my</i> sake!&#8221; she repeated, and the
+emphasis made him gasp and stiffen. &#8220;For <i>your</i> sake&mdash;for
+both of us, Trevison! Oh, what fools we were!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>
+What fools all people are, not to trust and believe!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; He drew her toward him,
+roughly, and held her hands in a grip that made her
+wince. But she looked straight at him in spite of the
+pain, her eyes brimming with a promise that he could
+not mistake.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t you <i>see</i>?&#8221; she said to him, her voice quavering;
+&#8220;<i>must </i> I tell you?&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>ZANE GREY&#8217;S NOVELS</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset &amp; Dunlap&#8217;s list.</p>
+</div>
+
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE MAN OF THE FOREST</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE DESERT OF WHEAT</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE U. P. TRAIL</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>WILDFIRE</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE BORDER LEGION</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE RAINBOW TRAIL</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE LONE STAR RANGER</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>DESERT GOLD</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>BETTY ZANE</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS</p>
+<p>The life story of &#8220;Buffalo Bill&#8221; by his sister Helen Cody
+Wetmore, with Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.</p>
+<p>ZANE GREY&#8217;S BOOKS FOR BOYS</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE YOUNG LION HUNTER</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE YOUNG FORESTER</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE YOUNG PITCHER</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE SHORT STOP</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Grossett &amp; Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>EDGAR RICE BURROUGH&#8217;S NOVELS</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset &amp; Dunlap&#8217;s list.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>TARZAN THE UNTAMED</p>
+<p>Tells of Tarzan&#8217;s return to the life of the ape-man in
+his search for vengeance on those who took from him his
+wife and home.</p>
+<p>JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN</p>
+<p>Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan
+proves his right to ape kingship.</p>
+<p>A PRINCESS OF MARS</p>
+<p>Forty-three million miles from the earth&mdash;a succession
+of the weirdest and most astounding adventures in fiction.
+John Carter, American, finds himself on the planet Mars,
+battling for a beautiful woman, with the Green Men of
+Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet high, mounted on
+horses like dragons.</p>
+<p>THE GODS OF MARS</p>
+<p>Continuing John Carter&#8217;s adventures on the Planet Mars,
+in which he does battle against the ferocious &#8220;plant men,&#8221;
+creatures whose mighty tails swished their victims to instant
+death, and defies Issus, the terrible Goddess of Death,
+whom all Mars worships and reveres.</p>
+<p>THE WARLORD OF MARS</p>
+<p>Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear,
+Tars Tarkas, Tardos Mors and others. There is a
+happy ending to the story in the union of the Warlord,
+the title conferred upon John Carter, with Dejah Thoris.</p>
+<p>THUVIA, MAID OF MARS</p>
+<p>The fourth volume of the series. The story centers
+around the adventures of Carthoris, the son of John Carter
+and Thuvia, daughter of a Martian Emperor.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK</p>
+</div>
+
+<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.27 -->
+<!-- timestamp: Sat Oct 18 05:15:04 -0400 2008 -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,9571 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Firebrand' Trevison
+
+Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
+
+Illustrator: P. V. E. Ivory
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26951]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'FIREBRAND' TREVISON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: INSTINCTIVELY EACH KNEW THE OTHER FOR A FOE. [Page 25]]
+
+
+
+
+"FIREBRAND" TREVISON
+
+BY
+CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER
+
+AUTHOR OF
+THE VENGENCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE,
+THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y,
+THE RANGE BOSS, Etc.
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY
+P. V. E. IVORY
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
+
+Made in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+Copyright
+A. C. McClurg & Co.
+1918
+
+Published September, 1918
+
+Copyrighted in Great Britain
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                                PAGE
+      I  The Rider of the Black Horse     1
+     II  In Which Hatred is Born         10
+    III  Beating a Good Man              30
+     IV  The Long Arm of Power           42
+      V  A Telegram and a Girl           53
+     VI  A Judicial Puppet               71
+    VII  Two Letters Go East             79
+   VIII  The Chaos of Creation           82
+     IX  Straight Talk                   93
+      X  The Spirit of Manti            100
+     XI  For the "Kiddies"              109
+    XII  Exposed to the Sunlight        113
+   XIII  Another Letter                 130
+    XIV  A Rumble Of War                137
+     XV  A Mutual Benefit Association   146
+    XVI  Wherein A Woman Lies           151
+   XVII  Justice Vs. Law                155
+  XVIII  Law Invoked and Defied         169
+    XIX  A Woman Rides in Vain          183
+     XX  And Rides Again--in Vain       192
+    XXI  Another Woman Rides            209
+   XXII  A Man Errs--and Pays           221
+  XXIII  First Principles               234
+   XXIV  Another Woman Lies             253
+    XXV  In the Dark                    264
+   XXVI  The Ashes                      273
+  XXVII  The Fight                      290
+ XXVIII  The Dregs                      310
+   XXIX  The Calm                       321
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                                                      PAGE
+
+Instinctively each knew the other for a foe.  Frontispiece
+
+"You are going to marry me--some day. That's
+what I think of you!"                                   97
+
+"You men are blind. Corrigan is a crook who
+will stop at nothing."                                 283
+
+
+
+
+"FIREBRAND" TREVISON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE RIDER OF THE BLACK HORSE
+
+
+The trail from the Diamond K broke around the base of a low hill dotted
+thickly with scraggly oak and fir, then stretched away, straight and
+almost level (except for a deep cut where the railroad gang and a steam
+shovel were eating into a hundred-foot hill) to Manti. A month before,
+there had been no Manti, and six months before that there had been no
+railroad. The railroad and the town had followed in the wake of a party of
+khaki-clad men that had made reasonably fast progress through the country,
+leaving a trail of wooden stakes and little stone monuments behind.
+Previously, an agent of the railroad company had bartered through,
+securing a right-of-way. The fruit of the efforts of these men was a dark
+gash on a sun-scorched level, and two lines of steel laid as straight as
+skilled eye and transit could make them--and Manti.
+
+Manti could not be overlooked, for the town obtruded upon the vision from
+where "Brand" Trevison was jogging along the Diamond K trail astride his
+big black horse, Nigger. Manti dominated the landscape, not because it was
+big and imposing, but because it was new. Manti's buildings were
+scattered--there had been no need for crowding; but from a distance--from
+Trevison's distance, for instance, which was a matter of three miles or
+so--Manti looked insignificant, toy-like, in comparison with the vast
+world on whose bosom it sat. Manti seemed futile, ridiculous. But Trevison
+knew that the coming of the railroad marked an epoch, that the two thin,
+thread-like lines of steel were the tentacles of the man-made monster that
+had gripped the East--business reaching out for newer fields--and that
+Manti, futile and ridiculous as it seemed, was an outpost fortified by
+unlimited resource. Manti had come to stay.
+
+And the cattle business was going, Trevison knew. The railroad company had
+built corrals at Manti, and Trevison knew they would be needed for several
+years to come. But he could foresee the day when they would be replaced by
+building and factory. Business was extending its lines, cattle must
+retreat before them. Several homesteaders had already appeared in the
+country, erecting fences around their claims. One of the homesteaders,
+when Trevison had come upon him a few days before, had impertinently
+inquired why Trevison did not fence the Diamond K range. Fence in five
+thousand acres! It had never been done in this section of the country.
+Trevison had permitted himself a cold grin, and had kept his answer to
+himself. The incident was not important, but it foreshadowed a day when a
+dozen like inquiries would make the building of a range fence imperative.
+
+Trevison already felt the irritation of congestion--the presence of the
+homesteaders nettled him. He frowned as he rode. A year ago he would have
+sold out--cattle, land and buildings--at the market price. But at that
+time he had not known the value of his land. Now--
+
+He kicked Nigger in the ribs and straightened in the saddle, grinning.
+
+"She's not for sale now--eh, Nig?"
+
+Five minutes later he halted the black at the crest of the big railroad
+cut and looked over the edge appraisingly. Fifty laborers--directed by a
+mammoth personage in dirty blue overalls, boots, woolen shirt, and a
+wide-brimmed felt hat, and with a face undeniably Irish--were working
+frenziedly to keep pace with the huge steam shovel, whose iron jaws were
+biting into the earth with a regularity that must have been discouraging
+to its human rivals. A train of flat-cars, almost loaded, was on the track
+of the cut, and a dinky engine attached to them wheezed steam from a
+safety valve, the engineer and fireman lounging out of the cab window,
+lazily watching.
+
+Patrick Carson, the personage--construction boss, good-natured, keen,
+observant--was leaning against a boulder at the side of the track, talking
+to the engineer at the instant Trevison appeared at the top of the cut. He
+glanced up, his eyes lighting.
+
+"There's thot mon, Trevison, ag'in, Murph'," he said to the engineer.
+"Bedad, he's a pitcher now, ain't he?"
+
+An imposing figure Trevison certainly was. Horse and rider were outlined
+against the sky, and in the dear light every muscle and feature of man and
+beast stood but boldly and distinctly. The big black horse was a powerful
+brute, tall and rangy, with speed and courage showing plainly in contour,
+nostril and eye; and with head and ears erect he stood motionless,
+statuesque, heroic. His rider seemed to have been proportioned to fit the
+horse. Tall, slender of waist, broad of shoulder, straight, he sat loosely
+in the saddle looking at the scene below him, unconscious of the
+admiration he excited. Poetic fancies stirred Carson vaguely.
+
+"Luk at 'im now, Murph; wid his big hat, his leather pants, his spurs, an'
+the rist av his conthraptions! There's a divvil av a conthrast here now,
+if ye'd only glimpse it. This civillyzation, ripraysinted be this
+railroad, don't seem to fit, noways. It's like it had butted into a
+pitcher book! Ain't he a darlin'?"
+
+"I've never seen him up close," said Murphy. There was none of Carson's
+enthusiasm in his voice. "It's always seemed to me that a felluh who rigs
+himself out like that has got a lot of show-off stuff in him."
+
+"The first time I clapped me eyes on wan av them cowbhoys I thought so,
+too," said Carson. "That was back on the other section. But I seen so
+manny av them rigged out like thot, thot I comminced to askin' questions.
+It's a domned purposeful rig, mon. The big felt hat is a daisy for keepin'
+off the sun, an' that gaudy bit av a rag around his neck keeps the sun and
+sand from blisterin' the skin. The leather pants is to keep his legs from
+gettin' clawed up be the thorns av prickly pear an' what not, which he's
+got to ride through, an' the high heels is to keep his feet from slippin'
+through the stirrups. A kid c'ud tell ye what he carries the young cannon
+for, an' why he wears it so low on his hip. Ye've nivver seen him up
+close, eh Murph'? Well, I'm askin' him down so's ye can have a good look
+at him." He stepped back from the boulder and waved a hand at Trevison,
+shouting:
+
+"Make it a real visit, bhoy!"
+
+"I'll be pullin' out of here before he can get around," said Murphy,
+noting that the last car was almost filled.
+
+Carson chuckled. "Hold tight," he warned; "he's comin'."
+
+The side of the cut was steep, and the soft sand and clay did not make a
+secure footing. But when the black received the signal from Trevison he
+did not hesitate. Crouching like a great cat at the edge, he slid his
+forelegs over until his hoofs sank deep into the side of the cut. Then
+with a gentle lurch he drew his hind legs after him, and an instant later
+was gingerly descending, his rider leaning far back in the saddle, the
+reins held loosely in his hands.
+
+It looked simple enough, the way the black was doing it, and Trevison's
+demeanor indicated perfect trust in the animal and in his own skill as a
+rider. But the laborers ceased working and watched, grouped, gesturing;
+the staccato coughing of the steam shovel died gaspingly, as the engineer
+shut off the engine and stood, rooted, his mouth agape; the fireman in the
+dinky engine held tightly to the cab window. Murphy muttered in
+astonishment, and Carson chuckled admiringly, for the descent was a full
+hundred feet, and there were few men in the railroad gang that would have
+dared to risk the wall on foot.
+
+The black had gained impetus with distance. A third of the slope had been
+covered when he struck some loose earth that shifted with his weight and
+carried his hind quarters to one side and off balance. Instantly the rider
+swung his body toward the wall of the cut, twisted in the saddle and swung
+the black squarely around, the animal scrambling like a cat. The black
+stood, braced, facing the crest of the cut, while the dislodged earth,
+preceded by pebbles and small boulders, clattered down behind him. Then,
+under the urge of Trevison's gentle hand and voice, the black wheeled
+again and faced the descent.
+
+"I wouldn't ride a horse down there for the damned railroad!" declared
+Murphy.
+
+"Thrue for ye--ye c'udn't," grinned Carson.
+
+"A man could ride anywhere with a horse like that!" remarked the fireman,
+fascinated.
+
+"Ye'd have brought a cropper in that slide, an' the road wud be minus a
+coal-heaver!" said Carson. "Wud ye luk at him now!"
+
+The black was coming down, forelegs asprawl, his hind quarters sliding in
+the sand. Twice as his fore-hoofs struck some slight obstruction his hind
+quarters lifted and he stood, balanced, on his forelegs, and each time
+Trevison averted the impending catastrophe by throwing himself far back in
+the saddle and slapping the black's hips sharply.
+
+"He's a circus rider!" shouted Carson, gleefully. "He's got the coolest
+head of anny mon I iver seen! He's a divvil, thot mon!"
+
+The descent was spectacular, but it was apparent that Trevison cared
+little for its effect upon his audience, for as he struck the level and
+came riding toward Carson and the others, there was no sign of
+self-consciousness in his face or manner. He smiled faintly, though, as a
+cheer from the laborers reached his ears. In the next instant he had
+halted Nigger near the dinky engine, and Carson was introducing him to the
+engineer and fireman.
+
+Looking at Trevison "close up," Murphy was constrained to mentally label
+him "some man," and he regretted his deprecatory words of a few minutes
+before. Plainly, there was no "show-off stuff" in Trevison. His feat of
+riding down the wall of the cut had not been performed to impress anyone;
+the look of reckless abandon in the otherwise serene eyes that held
+Murphy's steadily, convinced the engineer that the man had merely
+responded to a dare-devil impulse. There was something in Trevison's
+appearance that suggested an entire disregard of fear. The engineer had
+watched the face of a brother of his craft one night when the latter had
+been driving a roaring monster down a grade at record-breaking speed into
+a wall of rain-soaked darkness out of which might thunder at any instant
+another roaring monster, coming in the opposite direction. There had been
+a mistake in orders, and the train was running against time to make a
+switch. Several times during the ride Murphy had caught a glimpse of the
+engineer's face, and the eyes had haunted him since--defiance of death,
+contempt of consequences, had been reflected in them. Trevison's eyes
+reminded him of the engineer's. But in Trevison's eyes was an added
+expression--cold humor. The engineer of Murphy's recollection would have
+met death dauntlessly. Trevison would meet it no less dauntlessly, but
+would mock at it. Murphy looked long and admiringly at him, noting the
+deep chest, the heavy muscles, the blue-black sheen of his freshly-shaven
+chin and jaw under the tan; the firm, mobile mouth, the aggressive set to
+his head. Murphy set his age down at twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Murphy
+was sixty himself--the age that appreciates, and secretly envies, the
+virility of youth. Carson was complimenting Trevison on his descent of the
+wall of the cut.
+
+"You're a daisy rider, me bhoy!"
+
+"Nigger's a clever horse," smiled Trevison. Murphy was pleased that he was
+giving the animal the credit. "Nigger's well trained. He's wiser than some
+men. Tricky, too." He patted the sleek, muscular neck of the beast and the
+animal whinnied gently. "He's careful of his master, though," laughed
+Trevison. "A man pulled a gun on me, right after I'd got Nigger. He had
+the drop, and he meant business. I had to shoot. To disconcert the fellow,
+I had to jump Nigger against him. Since then, whenever Nigger sees a gun
+in anyone's hand, he thinks it's time to bowl that man over. There's no
+holding him. He won't even stand for anyone pulling a handkerchief out of
+a hip pocket when I'm on him." Trevison grinned. "Try it, Carson, but get
+that boulder between you and Nigger before you do."
+
+"I don't like the look av the baste's eye," declined the Irishman. "I
+wudn't doubt ye're worrud for the wurrold. But he wudn't jump a mon divvil
+a bit quicker than his master, or I'm a sinner!"
+
+Trevison's eyes twinkled. "You're a good construction boss, Carson. But
+I'm glad to see that you're getting more considerate."
+
+"Av what?"
+
+"Of your men." Trevison glanced back; he had looked once before, out of
+the tail of his eye. The laborers were idling in the cut, enjoying the
+brief rest, taking advantage of Carson's momentary dereliction, for the
+last car had been filled.
+
+"I'll be rayported yet, begob!"
+
+Carson waved his hands, and the laborers dove for the flat-cars. When the
+last man was aboard, the engine coughed and moved slowly away. Carson
+climbed into the engine-cab, with a shout: "So-long bhoy!" to Trevison.
+The latter held Nigger with a firm rein, for the animal was dancing at the
+noise made by the engine, and as the cars filed past him, running faster
+now, the laborers grinned at him and respectfully raised their hats. For
+they had come from one of the Latin countries of Europe, and for them, in
+the person of this heroic figure of a man who had ridden his horse down
+the steep wall of the cut, was romance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+IN WHICH HATRED IS BORN
+
+
+For some persons romance dwells in the new and the unusual, and for other
+persons it dwells not at all. Certain of Rosalind Benham's friends would
+have been able to see nothing but the crudities and squalor of Manti,
+viewing it as Miss Benham did, from one of the windows of her father's
+private car, which early that morning had been shunted upon a switch at
+the outskirts of town. Those friends would have seen nothing but a new
+town of weird and picturesque buildings, with more saloons than seemed to
+be needed in view of the noticeable lack of citizens. They would have
+shuddered at the dust-windrowed street, the litter of refuse, the dismal
+lonesomeness, the forlornness, the utter isolation, the desolation. Those
+friends would have failed to note the vast, silent reaches of green-brown
+plain that stretched and yawned into aching distances; the wonderfully
+blue and cloudless sky that covered it; they would have overlooked the
+timber groves that spread here and there over the face of the land, with
+their lure of mystery. No thoughts of the bigness of this country would
+have crept in upon them--except as they might have been reminded of the
+dreary distance from the glitter and the tinsel of the East. The
+mountains, distant and shining, would have meant nothing to them; the
+strong, pungent aroma of the sage might have nauseated them.
+
+But Miss Benham had caught her first glimpse of Manti and the surrounding
+country from a window of her berth in the car that morning just at dawn,
+and she loved it. She had lain for some time cuddled up in her bed,
+watching the sun rise over the distant mountains, and the breath of the
+sage, sweeping into the half-opened window, had carried with it something
+stronger--the lure of a virgin country.
+
+Aunt Agatha Benham, chaperon, forty--maiden lady from choice--various
+uncharitable persons hinted humorously of pursued eligibles--found
+Rosalind gazing ecstatically out of the berth window when she stirred and
+awoke shortly after nine. Agatha climbed out of her berth and sat on its
+edge, yawning sleepily.
+
+"This is Manti, I suppose," she said acridly, shoving the curtain aside
+and looking out of the window. "We should consider ourselves fortunate not
+to have had an adventure with Indians or outlaws. We have _that_ to be
+thankful for, at least."
+
+Agatha's sarcasm failed to penetrate the armor of Rosalind's unconcern--as
+Agatha's sarcasms always did. Agatha occupied a place in Rosalind's
+affections, but not in her scheme of enjoyment. Since she _must_ be
+chaperoned, Agatha was acceptable to her. But that did not mean that she
+made a confidante of Agatha. For Agatha was looking at the world through
+the eyes of Forty, and the vision of Twenty is somewhat more romantic.
+
+"Whatever your father thought of in permitting you to come out here is a
+mystery to me," pursued Agatha severely, as she fussed with her hair. "It
+was like him, though, to go to all this trouble--for me--merely to satisfy
+your curiosity about the country. I presume we shall be returning
+shortly."
+
+"Don't be impatient, Aunty," said the girl, still gazing out of the
+window. "I intend to stretch my legs before I return."
+
+"Mercy!" gasped Agatha; "such language! This barbaric country has affected
+you already, my dear. Legs!" She summoned horror into her expression, but
+it was lost on Rosalind, who still gazed out of the window. Indeed, from a
+certain light in the girl's eyes it might be adduced that she took some
+delight in shocking Agatha.
+
+"I shall stay here quite some time, I think," said Rosalind. "Daddy said
+there was no hurry; that he might come out here in a month, himself. And I
+have been dying to get away from the petty conventionalities of the East.
+I am going to be absolutely human for a while, Aunty. I am going to 'rough
+it'--that is, as much as one can rough it when one is domiciled in a
+private car. I am going to get a horse and have a look at the country. And
+Aunty--" here the girl's voice came chokingly, as though some deep emotion
+agitated her "--I am going to ride 'straddle'!"
+
+She did not look to see whether Agatha had survived this second shock--but
+Agatha had survived many such shocks. It was only when, after a silence of
+several minutes, Agatha spoke again, that the girl seemed to remember
+there was anybody in the compartment with her. Agatha's voice was laden
+with contempt:
+
+"Well, I don't know what you see in this outlandish place to compensate
+for what you miss at home."
+
+The girl did not look around. "A man on a black horse, Aunty," she said.
+"He has passed here twice. I have never seen such a horse. I don't
+remember to have ever seen a man quite like the rider. He looks
+positively--er--_heroish_! He is built like a Roman gladiator, he rides
+the black horse as though he had been sculptured on it, and his head has a
+set that makes one feel he has a mind of his own. He has furnished me with
+the only thrill that I have felt since we left New York!"
+
+"He hasn't seen _you_!" said Agatha, coldly; "of course you made sure of
+_that_?"
+
+The girl looked mischievously at the older woman. She ran her fingers
+through her hair--brown and vigorous-looking--then shaded her eyes with
+her hands and gazed at her reflection in a mirror near by. In deshabille
+she looked fresh and bewitching. She had looked like a radiant goddess to
+"Brand" Trevison, when he had accidentally caught a glimpse of her face at
+the window while she had been watching him. He had not known that the lady
+had just awakened from her beauty sleep. He would have sworn that she
+needed no beauty sleep. And he had deliberately ridden past the car again,
+hoping to get another glimpse of her. The girl smiled.
+
+"I am not so positive about that, Aunty. Let us not be prudish. If he saw
+me, he made no sign, and therefore he is a gentleman." She looked out of
+the window and smiled again. "There he is now, Aunty!"
+
+It was Agatha who parted the curtains, this time. The horseman's face was
+toward the window, and he saw her. An expression of puzzled astonishment
+glowed in his eyes, superseded quickly by disappointment, whereat Rosalind
+giggled softly and hid her tousled head in a pillow.
+
+"The impertinent brute! Rosalind, he dared to look directly at me, and I
+am sure he would have winked at me in another instant! A gentleman!" she
+said, coldly.
+
+"Don't be severe, Aunty. I'm sure he is a gentleman, for all his
+curiosity. See--there he is, riding away without so much as looking
+back!"
+
+Half an hour later the two women entered the dining-room just as a big,
+rather heavy-featured, but handsome man, came through the opposite door.
+He greeted both ladies effusively, and smilingly looked at his watch.
+
+"You over-slept this morning, ladies--don't you think? It's after ten.
+I've been rummaging around town, getting acquainted. It's rather an
+unfinished place, after the East. But in time--" He made a gesture,
+perhaps a silent prophecy that one day Manti would out-strip New York, and
+bowed the ladies to seats at table, talking while the colored waiter moved
+obsequiously about them.
+
+"I thought at first that your father was over-enthusiastic about Manti,
+Miss Benham," he continued. "But the more I see of it the firmer becomes
+my conviction that your father was right. There are tremendous
+possibilities for growth. Even now it is a rather fertile country. We
+shall make it hum, once the railroad and the dam are completed. It is a
+logical site for a town--there is no other within a hundred miles in any
+direction."
+
+"And you are to anticipate the town's growth--isn't that it, Mr.
+Corrigan?"
+
+"You put it very comprehensively, Miss Benham; but perhaps it would be
+better to say that I am the advance agent of prosperity--that sounds
+rather less mercenary. We must not allow the impression to get abroad that
+mere money is to be the motive power behind our efforts."
+
+"But money-making is the real motive, after all?" said Miss Benham,
+dryly.
+
+"I submit there are several driving forces in life, and that money-making
+is not the least compelling of them."
+
+"The other forces?" It seemed to Corrigan that Miss Benham's face was very
+serious. But Agatha, who knew Rosalind better than Corrigan knew her, was
+aware that the girl was merely demurely sarcastic.
+
+"Love and hatred are next," he said, slowly.
+
+"You would place money-making before love?" Rosalind bantered.
+
+"Money adds the proper flavor to love," laughed Corrigan. The laugh was
+laden with subtle significance and he looked straight at the girl, a deep
+fire slumbering in his eyes. "Yes," he said slowly, "money-making is a
+great passion. I have it. But I can hate, and love. And when I do either,
+it will be strongly. And then--"
+
+Agatha cleared her throat impatiently. Corrigan colored slightly, and Miss
+Benham smothered something, artfully directing the conversation into less
+personal channels:
+
+"You are going to build manufactories, organize banks, build municipal
+power-houses, speculate in real estate, and such things, I suppose?"
+
+"And build a dam. We already have a bank here, Miss Benham."
+
+"Will father be interested in those things?"
+
+"Silently. You understand, that being president of the railroad, your
+father must keep in the background. The actual promoting of these
+enterprises will be done by me."
+
+Miss Benham looked dreamily out of the window. Then she turned to Corrigan
+and gazed at him meditatively, though the expression in her eyes was so
+obviously impersonal that it chilled any amorous emotion that Corrigan
+might have felt.
+
+"I suppose you are right," she said. "It must be thrilling to feel a
+conscious power over the destiny of a community, to direct its progress,
+to manage it, and--er--figuratively to grab industries by their--" She
+looked slyly at Agatha "--lower extremities and shake the dollars out of
+them. Yes," she added, with a wistful glance through the window; "that
+must be more exciting than being merely in love."
+
+Agatha again followed Rosalind's gaze and saw the black horse standing in
+front of a store. She frowned, and observed stiffly:
+
+"It seems to me that the people in these small places--such as Manti--are
+not capable of managing the large enterprises that Mr. Corrigan speaks
+of." She looked at Rosalind, and the girl knew that she was deprecating
+the rider of the black horse. Rosalind smiled sweetly.
+
+"Oh, I am sure there must be _some_ intelligent persons among them!"
+
+"As a rule," stated Corrigan, dogmatically, "the first citizens of any
+town are an uncouth and worthless set."
+
+"The Four Hundred would take exception to that!" laughed Rosalind.
+
+Corrigan laughed with her. "You know what I mean, of course. Take Manti,
+for instance. Or any new western town. The lowest elements of society are
+represented; most of the people are very ignorant and criminal."
+
+The girl looked sharply at Corrigan, though he was not aware of the
+glance. Was there a secret understanding between Corrigan and Agatha? Had
+Corrigan also some knowledge of the rider's pilgrimages past the car
+window? Both had maligned the rider. But the girl had seen intelligence on
+the face of the rider, and something in the set of his head had told her
+that he was not a criminal. And despite his picturesque rigging, and the
+atmosphere of the great waste places that seemed to envelop him, he had
+made a deeper impression on her than had Corrigan, darkly handsome,
+well-groomed, a polished product of polite convention and breeding, whom
+her father wanted her to marry.
+
+"Well," she said, looking at the black horse; "I intend to observe Manti's
+citizens more closely before attempting to express an opinion."
+
+Half an hour later, in response to Corrigan's invitation, Rosalind was
+walking down Manti's one street, Corrigan beside her. Corrigan had donned
+khaki clothing, a broad, felt hat, boots, neckerchief. But in spite of the
+change of garments there was a poise, an atmosphere about him, that hinted
+strongly of the graces of civilization. Rosalind felt a flash of pride in
+him. He was big, masterful, fascinating.
+
+Manti seemed to be fraudulent, farcical, upon closer inspection. For one
+thing, its crudeness was more glaring, and its unpainted board fronts
+looked flimsy, transient. Compared to the substantial buildings of the
+East, Manti's structures were hovels. Here was the primitive town in the
+first flush of its creation. Miss Benham did not laugh, for a mental
+picture rose before her--a bit of wild New England coast, a lowering sky,
+a group of Old-world pilgrims shivering around a blazing fire in the open,
+a ship in the offing. That also was a band of first citizens; that picture
+and the one made by Manti typified the spirit of America.
+
+There were perhaps twenty buildings. Corrigan took her into several of
+them. But, she noted, he did not take her into the store in front of which
+was the black horse. She was introduced to several of the proprietors.
+Twice she overheard parts of the conversation carried on between Corrigan
+and the proprietors. In each case the conversation was the same:
+
+"Do you own this property?"
+
+"The building."
+
+"Who owns the land?"
+
+"A company in New York."
+
+Corrigan introduced himself as the manager of the company, and spoke of
+erecting an office. The two men spoke about their "leases." The latter
+seemed to have been limited to two months.
+
+"See me before your lease expires," she heard Corrigan tell the men.
+
+"Does the railroad own the town site?" asked Rosalind as they emerged from
+the last store.
+
+"Yes. And leases are going to be more valuable presently."
+
+"You don't mean that you are going to extort money from them--after they
+have gone to the expense of erecting buildings?"
+
+His smile was pleasant. "They will be treated with the utmost
+consideration, Miss Benham."
+
+He ushered her into the bank. Like the other buildings, the bank was of
+frame construction. Its only resemblance to a bank was in the huge safe
+that stood in the rear of the room, and a heavy wire netting behind which
+ran a counter. Some chairs and a desk were behind the counter, and at the
+desk sat a man of probably forty, who got up at the entrance of his
+visitors and approached them, grinning and holding out a hand to
+Corrigan.
+
+"So you're here at last, Jeff," he said. "I saw the car on the switch this
+morning. The show will open pretty soon now, eh?" He looked inquiringly at
+Rosalind, and Corrigan presented her. She heard the man's name, "Mr.
+Crofton Braman," softly spoken by her escort, and she acknowledged the
+introduction formally and walked to the door, where she stood looking out
+into the street.
+
+Braman repelled her--she did not know why. A certain crafty gleam of his
+eyes, perhaps, strangely blended with a bold intentness as he had looked
+at her; a too effusive manner; a smoothly ingratiating smile--these
+evidences of character somehow made her link him with schemes and plots.
+
+She did not reflect long over Braman. Across the street she saw the rider
+of the black horse standing beside the animal at a hitching rail in front
+of the store that Corrigan had passed without entering. Viewed from this
+distance, the rider's face was more distinct, and she saw that he was
+good-looking--quite as good-looking as Corrigan, though of a different
+type. Standing, he did not seem to be so tall as Corrigan, nor was he
+quite so bulky. But he was lithe and powerful, and in his movements, as he
+unhitched the black horse, threw the reins over its head and patted its
+neck, was an ease and grace that made Rosalind's eyes sparkle with
+admiration.
+
+The rider seemed to be in no hurry to mount his horse. The girl was
+certain that twice as he patted the animal's neck he stole glances at her,
+and a stain appeared in her cheeks, for she remembered the car window.
+
+And then she heard a voice greet the rider. A man came out of the door of
+one of the saloons, glanced at the rider and raised his voice, joyously:
+
+"Well, if it ain't ol' 'Brand'! Where in hell you been keepin' yourself? I
+ain't seen you for a week!"
+
+Friendship was speaking here, and the girl's heart leaped in sympathy. She
+watched with a smile as the other man reached the rider's side and wrung
+his hand warmly. Such effusiveness would have been thought hypocritical in
+the East; humanness was always frowned upon. But what pleased the girl
+most was this evidence that the rider was well liked. Additional evidence
+on this point collected quickly. It came from several doors, in the shapes
+of other men who had heard the first man's shout, and presently the rider
+was surrounded by many friends.
+
+The girl was deeply interested. She forgot Braman, Corrigan--forgot that
+she was standing in the doorway of the bank. She was seeing humanity
+stripped of conventionalities; these people were not governed by the
+intimidating regard for public opinion that so effectively stifled warm
+impulses among the persons she knew.
+
+She heard another man call to him, and she found herself saying: "'Brand'!
+What an odd name!" But it seemed to fit him; he was of a type that one
+sees rarely--clean, big, athletic, virile, magnetic. His personality
+dominated the group; upon him interest centered heavily. Nor did his
+popularity appear to destroy his poise or make him self-conscious. The
+girl watched closely for signs of that. Had he shown the slightest trace
+of self-worship she would have lost interest in him. He appeared to be a
+trifle embarrassed, and that made him doubly attractive to her. He
+bantered gayly with the men, and several times his replies to some quip
+convulsed the others.
+
+And then while she dreamily watched him, she heard several voices insist
+that he "show Nigger off." He demurred, and when they again insisted, he
+spoke lowly to them, and she felt their concentrated gaze upon her. She
+knew that he had declined to "show Nigger off" because of her presence.
+"Nigger," she guessed, was his horse. She secretly hoped he would overcome
+his prejudice, for she loved the big black, and was certain that any
+performance he participated in would be well worth seeing. So, in order to
+influence the rider she turned her back, pretending not to be interested.
+But when she heard exclamations of satisfaction from the group of men she
+wheeled again, to see that the rider had mounted and was sitting in the
+saddle, grinning at a man who had produced a harmonica and was rubbing it
+on a sleeve of his shirt, preparatory to placing it to his lips.
+
+The rider had gone too far now to back out, and Rosalind watched him in
+frank curiosity. And in the next instant, when the strains of the
+harmonica smote the still morning air, Nigger began to prance.
+
+What followed reminded the girl of a scene in the ring of a circus. The
+horse, proud, dignified, began to pace slowly to the time of the
+accompanying music, executing difficult steps that must have tried the
+patience of both animal and trainer during the teaching period; the rider,
+lithe, alert, proud also, smiling his pleasure.
+
+Rosalind stood there long, watching. It was a clever exhibition, and she
+found herself wondering about the rider. Had he always lived in the West?
+
+The animal performed a dozen feats of the circus arena, and the girl was
+so deeply interested in him that she did not observe Corrigan when he
+emerged from the bank, stepped down into the street and stood watching the
+rider. She noticed him though, when the black, forced to her side of the
+street through the necessity of executing a turn, passed close to the
+easterner. And then, with something of a shock, she saw Corrigan smiling
+derisively. At the sound of applause from the group on the opposite side
+of the street, Corrigan's derision became a sneer. Miss Benham felt
+resentment; a slight color stained her cheeks. For she could not
+understand why Corrigan should show displeasure over this clean and clever
+amusement. She was looking full at Corrigan when he turned and caught her
+gaze. The light in his eyes was positively venomous.
+
+"It is a rather dramatic bid for your interest, isn't it, Miss Benham?" he
+said.
+
+His voice came during a lull that followed the applause. It reached
+Rosalind, full and resonant. It carried to the rider of the black horse,
+and glancing sidelong at him, Rosalind saw his face whiten under the deep
+tan upon it. It carried, too, to the other side of the street, and the
+girl saw faces grow suddenly tense; noted the stiffening of bodies. The
+flat, ominous silence that followed was unreal and oppressive. Out of it
+came the rider's voice as he urged the black to a point within three or
+four paces of Corrigan and sat in the saddle, looking at him. And now for
+the first time Rosalind had a clear, full view of the rider's face and a
+quiver of trepidation ran over her. For the lean jaws were corded, the
+mouth was firm and set--she knew his teeth were clenched; it was the face
+of a man who would not be trifled with. His chin was shoved forward
+slightly; somehow it helped to express the cold humor that shone in his
+narrowed, steady eyes. His voice, when he spoke to Corrigan, had a
+metallic quality that rang ominously in the silence that had continued:
+
+"Back up your play or take it back," he said slowly.
+
+Corrigan had not changed his position. He stared fixedly at the rider; his
+only sign of emotion over the latter's words was a quickening of the eyes.
+He idly tapped with his fingers on the sleeve of his khaki shirt, where
+the arm passed under them to fold over the other. His voice easily matched
+the rider's in its quality of quietness:
+
+"My conversation was private. You are interfering without cause."
+
+Watching the rider, filled with a sudden, breathless premonition of
+impending tragedy, Rosalind saw his eyes glitter with the imminence of
+physical action. Distressed, stirred by an impulse to avert what
+threatened, she took a step forward, speaking rapidly to Corrigan:
+
+"Mr. Corrigan, this is positively silly! You know you were hardly
+discreet!"
+
+Corrigan smiled coldly, and the girl knew that it was not a question of
+right or wrong between the two men, but a conflict of spirit. She did not
+know that hatred had been born here; that instinctively each knew the
+other for a foe, and that this present clash was to be merely one battle
+of the war that would be waged between them if both survived.
+
+Not for an instant did Corrigan's eyes wander from those of the rider. He
+saw from them that he might expect no further words. None came. The
+rider's right hand fell to the butt of the pistol that swung low on his
+right hip. Simultaneously, Corrigan's hand dropped to his hip pocket.
+
+Rosalind saw the black horse lunge forward as though propelled by a sudden
+spring. A dust cloud rose from his hoofs, and Corrigan was lost in it.
+When the dust swirled away, Corrigan was disclosed to the girl's view,
+doubled queerly on the ground, face down. The black horse had struck him
+with its shoulder--he seemed to be badly hurt.
+
+For a moment the girl stood, swaying, looking around appealingly, startled
+wonder, dismay and horror in her eyes. It had happened so quickly that she
+was stunned. She had but one conscious emotion--thankfulness that neither
+man had used his pistol.
+
+No one moved. The girl thought some of them might have come to Corrigan's
+assistance. She did not know that the ethics forbade interference, that a
+fight was between the fighters until one acknowledged defeat.
+
+Corrigan's face was in the dust; he had not moved. The black horse stood,
+quietly now, several feet distant, and presently the rider dismounted,
+walked to Corrigan and turned him over. He worked the fallen man's arms
+and legs, and moved his neck, then knelt and listened at his chest. He got
+up and smiled mirthlessly at the girl.
+
+"He's just knocked out, Miss Benham. It's nothing serious. Nigger--"
+
+"You coward!" she interrupted, her voice thick with passion.
+
+His lips whitened, but he smiled faintly.
+
+"Nigger--" he began again.
+
+"Coward! Coward!" she repeated, standing rigid before him, her hands
+clenched, her lips stiff with scorn.
+
+He smiled resignedly and turned away. She stood watching him, hating him,
+hurling mental anathemas after him, until she saw him pass through the
+doorway of the bank. Then she turned to see Corrigan just getting up.
+
+Not a man in the group across the street had moved. They, too, had watched
+Trevison go into the bank, and now their glances shifted to the girl and
+Corrigan. Their sympathies, she saw plainly, were with Trevison; several
+of them smiled as the easterner got to his feet.
+
+Corrigan was pale and breathless, but he smiled at her and held her off
+when she essayed to help him brush the dust from his clothing. He did that
+himself, and mopped his face with a handkerchief.
+
+"It wasn't fair," whispered the girl, sympathetically. "I almost wish that
+you had killed him!" she added, vindictively.
+
+"My, what a fire-eater!" he said with a broad smile. She thought he looked
+handsomer with the dust upon him, than he had ever seemed when polished
+and immaculate.
+
+"Are you badly hurt?" she asked, with a concern that made him look quickly
+at her.
+
+He laughed and patted her arm lightly. "Not a bit hurt," he said. "Come,
+those men are staring."
+
+He escorted her to the step of the private car, and lingered a moment
+there to make his apology for his part in the trouble. He told her
+frankly, that he was to blame, knowing that Trevison's action in riding
+him down would more than outweigh any resentment she might feel over his
+mistake in bringing about the clash in her presence.
+
+She graciously forgave him, and a little later she entered the car alone;
+he telling her that he would be in presently, after he returned from the
+station where he intended to send a telegram. She gave him a smile,
+standing on the platform of the car, dazzling, eloquent with promise. It
+made his heart leap with exultation, and as he went his way toward the
+station he voiced a sentiment:
+
+"Entirely worth being ridden down for."
+
+But his jaws set savagely as he approached the station. He did not go into
+the station, but around the outside wall of it, passing between it and
+another building and coming at last to the front of the bank building. He
+had noted that the black horse was still standing in front of the bank
+building, and that the group of men had dispersed. The street was
+deserted.
+
+Corrigan's movements became quick and sinister. He drew a heavy revolver
+out of a hip pocket, shoved its butt partly up his sleeve and concealed
+the cylinder and barrel in the palm of his hand. Then he stepped into the
+door of the bank. He saw Trevison standing at one of the grated windows of
+the wire netting, talking with Braman. Corrigan had taken several steps
+into the room before Trevison heard him, and then Trevison turned, to find
+himself looking into the gaping muzzle of Corrigan's pistol.
+
+"You didn't run," said the latter. "Thought it was all over, I suppose.
+Well, it isn't." He was grinning coldly, and was now deliberate and
+unexcited, though two crimson spots glowed in his cheeks, betraying the
+presence of passion.
+
+"Don't reach for that gun!" he warned Trevison. "I'll blow a hole through
+you if you wriggle a finger!" Watching Trevison, he spoke to Braman: "You
+got a back room here?"
+
+The banker stepped around the end of the counter and opened a door behind
+the wire netting. "Right here," he directed.
+
+Corrigan indicated the door with a jerking movement of the head. "Move!"
+he said shortly, to Trevison. The latter's lips parted in a cold, amused
+grin, and he hesitated slightly, yielding presently.
+
+An instant later the three were standing in the middle of a large room,
+empty except for a cot upon which Braman slept, some clothing hanging on
+the walls, a bench and a chair. Corrigan ordered the banker to clear the
+room. When that had been done, Corrigan spoke again to the banker:
+
+"Get his gun."
+
+A snapping alertness of the eyes indicated that Trevison knew what was
+coming. That was the reason he had been so quiescent this far; it was why
+he made no objection when Braman passed his hands over his clothing in
+search of other weapons, after his pistol had been lifted from its holster
+by the banker.
+
+"Now get out of here and lock the doors!" ordered Corrigan. "And let
+nobody come in!"
+
+Braman retired, grinning expectantly.
+
+Then Corrigan backed away until he came to the wall. Reaching far up, he
+hung his revolver on a nail.
+
+"Now," he said to Trevison, his voice throaty from passion; "take off your
+damned foolish trappings. I'm going to knock hell out of you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BEATING A GOOD MAN
+
+
+Trevison had not moved. He had watched the movements of the other closely,
+noting his huge bulk, his lithe motions, the play of his muscles as he
+backed across the room to dispose of the pistol. At Corrigan's words
+though, Trevison's eyes glowed with a sudden fire, his teeth gleamed, his
+straight lips parting in a derisive smile. The other's manner toward him
+had twanged the chord of animosity that had been between them since the
+first exchange of glances, and he was as eager as Corrigan for the clash
+that must now come. He had known that the first conflict had been an
+unfinished thing. He laughed in sheer delight, though that delight was
+tempered with savage determination.
+
+"Save your boasts," he taunted.
+
+Corrigan sneered. "You won't look so damned attractive when you leave this
+room." He took off his hat and tossed it into a corner, then turned to
+Trevison with an ugly grin.
+
+"Ready?" he said.
+
+"Quite." Trevison had not accepted Corrigan's suggestion about taking off
+his "damned foolish trappings," and he still wore them--cartridge belt,
+leather chaps, spurs. But now he followed Corrigan's lead and threw his
+hat from him. Then he crouched and faced Corrigan.
+
+They circled cautiously, Trevison's spurs jingling musically. Then
+Trevison went in swiftly, jabbing with his left, throwing off Corrigan's
+vicious counter with the elbow, and ripping his right upward. The fist met
+Corrigan's arm as the latter blocked, and the shock forced both men back a
+step. Corrigan grinned with malicious interest and crowded forward.
+
+"That's good," he said; "you're not a novice. I hope you're not a quitter.
+I've quite a bit to hand you for riding me down."
+
+Trevison grinned derisively, but made no answer. He knew he must save his
+wind for this man. Corrigan was strong, clever; his forearm, which had
+blocked Trevison's uppercut, had seemed like a bar of steel.
+
+Trevison went in again with the grim purpose of discovering just how
+strong his antagonist was. Corrigan evaded a stiff left jab intended for
+his chin, and his own right cross missed as Trevison ducked into a clinch.
+With arms locked they strained, legs braced, their lungs heaving as they
+wrestled, doggedly.
+
+Corrigan stood like a post, not giving an inch. Vainly Trevison writhed,
+seeking a position which would betray a weakened muscle, but though he
+exerted every ounce of his own mighty strength Corrigan held him even.
+They broke at last, mutually, and Corrigan must have felt the leathery
+quality of Trevison's muscles, for his face was set in serious lines. His
+eyes glittered malignantly as he caught a confident smile on Trevison's
+lips, and he bored in silently, swinging both hands.
+
+Trevison had been the cool boxer, carefully trying out his opponent. He
+had felt little emotion save that of self-protection. At the beginning of
+the fight he would have apologized to Corrigan--with reservations. Now he
+was stirred with the lust of battle. Corrigan's malignance had struck a
+responsive passion in him, and the sodden impact of fist on flesh, the
+matching of strength against strength, the strain of iron muscles, the
+contact of their bodies, the sting and burn of blows, had aroused the
+latent savage in him. He was still cool, however, but it was the crafty
+coolness of the trained fighter, and as Corrigan crowded him he whipped in
+ripping blows that sent the big man's head back. Corrigan paid little heed
+to the blows; he shook them off, grunting. Blood was trickling thinly from
+his lips; he spat bestially over Trevison's shoulder in a clinch, and
+tried to sweep the latter from his feet.
+
+The agility of the cow-puncher saved him, and he went dancing out of
+harm's way, his spurs jingling. Corrigan was after him with a rush. A
+heavy blow caught Trevison on the right side of the neck just below the
+ear and sent him, tottering, against the wall of the building, from which
+he rebounded like a rubber ball, smothering Corrigan with an avalanche of
+deadening straight-arm punches that brought a glassy stare into Corrigan's
+eyes. The big man's head wabbled, and Trevison crowded in, intent on
+ending the fight quickly, but Corrigan covered instinctively, and when
+Trevison in his eagerness missed a blow, the big man clinched with him and
+hung on doggedly until his befoggled brain could clear. For a few minutes
+they rocked around the room, their heels thudding on the bare boards of
+the floor, creating sounds that filtered through the enclosing walls and
+smote the silence of the outside world with resonant rumblings.
+Mercilessly, Trevison hammered at the heavy head that sought a haven on
+his shoulder. Corrigan had been stunned and wanted no more long range
+work. He tried to lock his big arms around the other's waist in an attempt
+to wrestle, realizing that in that sort of a contest lay his only hope of
+victory, but Trevison, agile, alert to his danger, slipped elusively from
+the grasping hands and thudded uppercuts to the other's mouth and jaws
+that landed with sickening force. But none of the blows landed on a vital
+spot, and Corrigan hung grimly on.
+
+At last, lashing viciously, wriggling, squirming, swinging around in a
+wide circle to get out of Corrigan's clutches, Trevison broke the clinch
+and stood off, breathing heavily, summoning his reserve strength for a
+finishing blow. Corrigan had been fearfully punished during the last few
+minutes, but he was gradually recovering from his dizziness, and he
+grinned hideously at Trevison through his smashed lips. He surged forward,
+reminding Trevison of a wounded bear, but Trevison retreated warily as he
+measured the distance from which he would drive the blow that would end
+it
+
+He was still retreating, describing a wide circle. He swung around toward
+the door through which Braman had gone--his back was toward it. He did not
+see the door open slightly as he passed; he had not seen Braman's face in
+the slight crevice that had been between door and jamb all along. Nor did
+he see the banker jab at his legs with the handle of a broom. But he felt
+the handle hit his legs. It tripped him, forcing him to lose his balance.
+As he fell he saw Corrigan's eyes brighten, and he twisted sideways to
+escape a heavy blow that Corrigan aimed at him. He only partially evaded
+it--it struck him glancingly, a little to the left of the chin, stunning
+him, and he fell awkwardly, his left arm doubling under him. The agonizing
+pain that shot through the arm as he crumpled to the floor told him that
+it had been broken at the wrist. A queer stupor came upon him, during
+which he neither felt nor saw. Dimly, he sensed that Corrigan was striking
+at him; with a sort of vague half-consciousness he felt that the blows
+were landing. But they did not hurt, and he laughed at Corrigan's futile
+efforts. The only feeling he had was a blind rage against Braman, for he
+was certain that it had been the banker who had tripped him. Then he saw
+the broom on the floor and the crevice in the doorway. He got to his feet
+some way, Corrigan hanging to him, raining blows upon him, and he laughed
+aloud as, his vision clearing a little, he saw Corrigan's mouth, weak,
+open, drooling blood, and remembered that when Braman had tripped him
+Corrigan had hardly been in shape to do much effective hitting. He
+tottered away from Corrigan, taunting him, though afterwards he could not
+remember what his words were. Also, he heard Corrigan cursing him, though
+he could never remember _his_ words, either. He tried to swing his left
+arm as Corrigan came within range of it, but found he could not lift it,
+and so ducked the savage blow that Corrigan aimed at him and slipped
+sideways, bringing his right into play. Several times as they circled he
+uppercut Corrigan with the right, he retreating, side-stepping; Corrigan
+following him doggedly, slashing venomously at him, hitting him
+occasionally. Corrigan could not hurt him, and he could not resist
+laughing at Corrigan's face--it was so hideously repulsive.
+
+A man came out of the front door of Hanrahan's saloon across the street
+from the bank building, and stood in the street for a moment, looking
+about him. Had Miss Benham seen the man she would have recognized him as
+the one who had previously come out of the saloon to greet the rider with:
+"Well, if it ain't ol' 'Brand'!" He saw the black horse standing in front
+of the bank building, but Trevison was nowhere in sight. The man mumbled:
+"I don't want him to git away without me seein' him," and crossed the
+street to the bank window and peered inside. He saw Braman peering through
+a half-open door at the rear of the banking room, and he heard
+sounds--queer, jarring sounds that made the glass window in front of him
+rattle and quiver.
+
+He dove around to the side of the building and looked in a window. He
+stood for a moment, watching with bulging eyes, half drew a pistol,
+thought better of the notion and replaced it, and then darted back to the
+saloon from which he had emerged, croaking hoarsely: "Fight! fight!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had not had the agility to evade one of Corrigan's heavy blows.
+It had caught him as he had tried to duck, striking fairly on the point of
+the jaw, and he was badly dazed. But he still grinned mockingly at his
+enemy as the latter followed him, tensed, eager, snarling. He evaded other
+blows that would have finished him--through instinct, it seemed to
+Corrigan; and though there was little strength left in him he kept working
+his right fist through Corrigan's guard and into his face, pecking away at
+it until it seemed to be cut to ribbons.
+
+Voices came from somewhere in the banking room, voices raised in
+altercation. Neither of the two men, raging around the rear room, heard
+them--they had become insensate savages oblivious of their surroundings,
+drunken with passion, with the blood-mania gripping their brains.
+
+Trevison had brought the last ounce of his remaining strength into play
+and had landed a crushing blow on Corrigan's chin. The big man was
+wabbling crazily about in the general direction of Trevison, swinging
+his arms wildly, Trevison evading him, snapping home blows that landed
+smackingly without doing much damage. They served merely to keep
+Corrigan in the semi-comatose state in which Trevison's last hard blow
+had left him. And that last blow had sapped Trevison's strength; his
+spirit alone had survived the drunken orgy of rage and hatred. As the
+tumult around him increased--the tramp of many feet, scuffling; harsh,
+discordant voices, curses, yells of protest, threats--not a sound of which
+he heard, so intent was he with his work of battering his adversary, he
+ceased to retreat from Corrigan, and as the latter shuffled toward him
+he stiffened and drove his right fist into the big man's face. Corrigan
+cursed and grunted, but lunged forward again. They swung at the same
+instant--Trevison's right just grazing Corrigan's jaw; Corrigan's blow,
+full and sweeping, thudding against Trevison's left ear. Trevison's
+head rolled, his chin sagged to his chest, and his knees doubled like
+hinges. Corrigan smirked malevolently and drove forward again. But he
+was too eager, and his blows missed the reeling target that, with arms
+hanging wearily at his sides, still instinctively kept to his feet,
+the taunting smile, now becoming bitterly contemptuous, still on his
+face. It meant that though exhausted, his arm broken, he felt only
+scorn for Corrigan's prowess as a fighter.
+
+Fighting off the weariness he lunged forward again, swinging the now
+deadened right arm at the blur Corrigan made in front of him. Something
+collided with him--a human form--and thinking it was Corrigan, clinching
+with him, he grasped it. The momentum of the object, and his own weakness,
+carried him back and down, and with the object in his grasp he fell,
+underneath, to the floor. He saw a face close to his--Braman's--and
+remembering that the banker had tripped him, he began to work his right
+fist into the other's face.
+
+He would have finished Braman. He did not know that the man who had
+greeted him as "ol' 'Brand'" had smashed the banker in the forehead with
+the butt of a pistol when the banker had tried to bar his progress at the
+doorway; he was not aware that the force of the blow had hurled Braman
+against him, and that the latter, half unconscious, was not defending
+himself. He would not have cared had he known these things, for he was
+fighting blindly, doggedly, recklessly--fighting two men, he thought. And
+though he sensed that there could be but one end to such a struggle, he
+hammered away with ferocious malignance, and in the abandon of his passion
+in this extremity he was recklessly swinging his broken left arm, driving
+it at Braman, groaning each time the fist landed.
+
+He felt hands grasping him, and he fought them off, smashing weakly at
+faces that appeared around him as he was dragged to his feet. He heard a
+voice say: "His arm's bruk," and the voice seemed to clear the atmosphere.
+He paused, holding back a blow, and the dancing blur of faces assumed a
+proper aspect and he saw the man who had hit the banker.
+
+"Hello Mullarky!" he grinned, reeling drunkenly in the arms of his
+friends. "Come to see the picnic? Where's my--"
+
+He saw Corrigan leaning against a wall of the room and lurched toward him.
+A dozen hands held him back--the room was full of men; and as his brain
+cleared he recognized some of them. He heard threats, mutterings, against
+Corrigan, and he laughed, bidding the men to hold their peace, that it was
+a "fair fight." Corrigan was unmoved by the threats--as he was unmoved by
+Trevison's words. He leaned against the wall, weak, his arms hanging at
+his sides, his face macerated, grinning contemptuously. And then, despite
+his objections, Trevison was dragged away by Mullarky and the others,
+leaving Braman stretched out on the floor, and Corrigan, his knees
+sagging, his chin almost on his chest, standing near the wall. Trevison
+turned as he was forced out of the door, and grinned tauntingly at his
+tired enemy. Corrigan spat at him.
+
+Half an hour later, his damaged arm bandaged, and some marks of the battle
+removed, Trevison was in the banking room. He had forbidden any of his
+friends to accompany him, but Mullarky and several others stood outside
+the door and watched him.
+
+A bandage around his head, Braman leaned on the counter behind the wire
+netting, pale, shaking. In a chair at the desk sat Corrigan, glowering at
+Trevison. The big man's face had been attended to, but it was swollen
+frightfully, and his smashed lips were in a horrible pout. Trevison
+grinned at him, but it was to the banker that he spoke.
+
+"I want my gun, Braman," he said, shortly.
+
+The banker took it out of a drawer and silently shoved it across the
+counter and through a little opening in the wire netting. The banker
+watched, fearingly, as Trevison shoved the weapon into its holster.
+Corrigan stolidly followed his movements.
+
+The gun in its holster, Trevison leaned toward the banker.
+
+"I always knew you weren't straight, Braman. But we won't quarrel about
+that now. I just want you to know that when this arm of mine is right
+again, we'll try to square things between us. Broom handles will be barred
+that day."
+
+Braman was silent and uneasy as he watched Trevison reach into a pocket
+and withdraw a leather bill-book. From this he took a paper and tossed it
+in through the opening of the wire netting.
+
+"Cash it," he directed. "It's about the matter we were discussing when we
+were interrupted by our bloodthirsty friend, there."
+
+He looked at Corrigan while Braman examined the paper, his eyes alight
+with the mocking, unfearing gleam that had been in them during the fight.
+Corrigan scowled and Trevison grinned at him--the indomitable, mirthless
+grin of the reckless fighting man; and Corrigan filled his lungs slowly,
+watching him with half-closed eyes. It was as though both knew that a
+distant day would bring another clash between them.
+
+Braman fingered the paper uncertainly, and looked at Corrigan.
+
+"I suppose this is all regular?" he said. "You ought to know something
+about it--it's a check from the railroad company for the right-of-way
+through Mr. Trevison's land."
+
+Corrigan's eyes brightened as he examined the check. They filled with a
+hard, sinister light.
+
+"No," he said; "it isn't regular." He took the check from Braman and
+deliberately tore it into small pieces, scattering them on the floor at
+his feet. He smiled vindictively, settling back into his chair. "'Brand'
+Trevison, eh?" he said. "Well, Mr. Trevison, the railroad company isn't
+ready to close with you."
+
+Trevison had watched the destruction of the check without the quiver of an
+eyelash. A faint, ironic smile curved the corners of his mouth as Corrigan
+concluded.
+
+"I see," he said quietly. "You were not man enough to beat me a little
+while ago--even with the help of Braman's broom. You're going to take it
+out on me through the railroad; you're going to sneak and scheme. Well,
+you're in good company--anything that you don't know about skinning people
+Braman will tell you. But I'm letting you know this: The railroad
+company's option on my land expired last night, and it won't be renewed.
+If it's fight you're looking for, I'll do my best to accommodate you."
+
+Corrigan grunted, and idly drummed with the fingers of one hand on the top
+of the desk, watching Trevison steadily. The latter opened his lips to
+speak, changed his mind, grinned and went out. Corrigan and Braman watched
+him as he stopped for a moment outside to talk with his friends, and their
+gaze followed him until he mounted Nigger and rode out of town. Then the
+banker looked at Corrigan, his brows wrinkling.
+
+"You know your business, Jeff," he said; "but you've picked a tough man in
+Trevison."
+
+Corrigan did not answer. He was glowering at the pieces of the check that
+lay on the floor at his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE LONG ARM OF POWER
+
+
+Presently Corrigan lit a cigar, biting the end off carefully, to keep it
+from coming in contact with his bruised lips. When the cigar was going
+well, he looked at Braman.
+
+"What is Trevison?"
+
+Pale, still dizzy from the effects of the blow on the head, Braman, who
+was leaning heavily on the counter, smiled wryly:
+
+"He's a holy terror--you ought to know that. He's a reckless,
+don't-give-a-damn fool who has forgotten there's such a thing as
+consequences. 'Firebrand' Trevison, they call him. And he lives up to what
+that means. The folks in this section of the country swear by him."
+
+Corrigan made a gesture of impatience. "I mean--what does he do? Of course
+I know he owns some land here. But how much land does he own?"
+
+"You saw the figure on the check, didn't you? He owns five thousand
+acres."
+
+"How long has he been here?"
+
+"You've got me. More than ten years, I guess, from what I can gather."
+
+"What was he before he came here?"
+
+"I couldn't even surmise that--he don't talk about his past. From the way
+he waded into you, I should judge he was a prize fighter before becoming a
+cow-puncher."
+
+Corrigan glared at the banker. "Yes; it's damned funny," he said. "How did
+he get his land?"
+
+"Proved on a quarter-section. Bought the rest of it--and bought it mighty
+cheap." Braman's eyes brightened. "Figure on attacking _his_ title?"
+
+Corrigan grunted. "I notice he asked you for cash. You're not his banker,
+evidently."
+
+"He banks in Las Vegas, I guess."
+
+"What about his cattle?"
+
+"He shipped three thousand head last season."
+
+"How big is his outfit?"
+
+"He's got about twenty men. They're all hard cases--like him, and they'd
+shoot themselves for him."
+
+Corrigan got up and walked to the window, from where he looked out at
+Manti. The town looked like an army camp. Lumber, merchandise, supplies of
+every description, littered the street in mounds and scattered heaps,
+awaiting the erection of tent-house and building. But there was none of
+that activity that might have been expected from the quantity of material
+on hand; it seemed that the owners were waiting, delaying in anticipation
+of some force that would give them encouragement. They were reluctant to
+risk their money in erecting buildings on the strength of mere rumor. But
+they had come, hoping.
+
+Corrigan grinned at Braman. "They're afraid to take a chance," he said,
+meaning Manti's citizens.
+
+"Don't blame them. I've spread the stuff around--as you told me. That's
+all they've heard. They're here on a forlorn hope. The boom they are
+looking for, seems, from present conditions, to be lurking somewhere in
+the future, shadowed by an indefiniteness that to them is vaguely
+connected with somebody's promise of a dam, agricultural activity to
+follow, and factories. They haven't been able to trace the rumors, but
+they're here, and they'll make things hum if they get a chance."
+
+"Sure," grinned Corrigan. "A boom town is always a graft for first
+arrivals. That is, boom towns _have_ been. But Manti--" He paused.
+
+"Yes, different," chuckled the banker. "It must have cost a wad to shove
+that water grant through."
+
+"Benham kicked on the price--it was enough."
+
+"That maximum rate clause is a pippin. You can soak them the limit right
+from the jump."
+
+"And scare them out," scoffed Corrigan. "That isn't the game. Get them
+here, first. Then--"
+
+The banker licked his lips. "How does old Benham take it?"
+
+"Mr. Benham is enthusiastic because everything will be done in a perfectly
+legitimate way--he thinks."
+
+"And the courts?"
+
+"Judge Lindman, of the District Court now in Dry Bottom, is going to
+establish himself here. Benham pulled that string."
+
+"Good!" said Braman. "When is Lindman coming?"
+
+Corrigan's smile was crooked; it told eloquently of conscious power over
+the man he had named.
+
+"He'll come whenever I give the word. Benham's got something on him."
+
+"You always were a clever son-of-a-gun!" laughed the banker, admiringly.
+
+Ignoring the compliment, Corrigan walked into the rear room, where he
+gazed frowningly at his reflection in a small glass affixed to the wall.
+Re-entering the banking room he said:
+
+"I'm in no condition to face Miss Benham. Go down to the car and tell her
+that I shall be very busy here all day, and that I won't be able to see
+her until late tonight."
+
+Miss Benham's name was on the tip of the banker's tongue, but, glancing at
+Corrigan's face, he decided that it was no time for that particular brand
+of levity. He grabbed his hat and stepped out of the front door.
+
+Left alone, Corrigan paced slowly back and forth in the room, his brows
+furrowed thoughtfully. Trevison had become an important figure in his
+mind. Corrigan had not hinted to Braman, to Trevison, or to Miss Benham,
+of the actual situation--nor would he. But during his first visit to town
+that morning he had stood in one of the front windows of a saloon across
+the street. He had not been getting acquainted, as he had told Miss
+Benham, for the saloon had been the first place that he had entered, and
+after getting a drink at the bar he had sauntered to the window. From
+there he had seen "Brand" Trevison ride into town, and because Trevison
+made an impressive figure he had watched him, instinctively aware that in
+the rider of the black horse was a quality of manhood that one meets
+rarely. Trevison's appearance had caused him a throb of disquieting envy.
+
+He had noticed Trevison's start upon getting his first glimpse of the
+private car on the siding. He had followed Trevison's movements carefully,
+and with increased disquiet. For, instead of dismounting and going into a
+saloon or a store, Trevison had urged the black on, past the private car,
+which he had examined leisurely and intently. The clear morning air made
+objects at a distance very distinct, and as Trevison had ridden past the
+car, Corrigan had seen a flutter at one of the windows; had caught a
+fleeting glimpse of Rosalind Benham's face. He had seen Trevison ride
+away, to return for a second view of the car a few minutes later. At
+breakfast, Corrigan had not failed to note Miss Benham's lingering glances
+at the black horse, and again, in the bank, with her standing at the door,
+he had noticed her interest in the black horse and its rider. His
+quickly-aroused jealousy and hatred had driven him to the folly of
+impulsive action, a method which, until now, he had carefully evaded. Yes,
+he had found "Brand" Trevison a worthy antagonist--Braman had him
+appraised correctly.
+
+Corrigan's smile was bitter as he again walked into the rear room and
+surveyed his reflection in the glass. Disgusted, he turned to one of the
+windows and looked out. From where he stood he could see straight down the
+railroad tracks to the cut, down the wall of which, some hours before,
+Trevison had ridden the black horse. The dinky engine, with its train of
+flat-cars, was steaming toward him. As he watched, engine and cars struck
+the switch and ran onto the siding, where they came to a stop. Corrigan
+frowned and looked at his watch. It lacked fully three hours to quitting
+time, and the cars were empty, save for the laborers draped on them, their
+tools piled in heaps. While Corrigan watched, the laborers descended from
+the cars and swarmed toward their quarters--a row of tent-houses near the
+siding. A big man--Corrigan knew him later as Patrick Carson--swung down
+from the engine-cab and lumbered toward the little frame station house, in
+a window of which the telegrapher could be seen, idly scanning a week-old
+newspaper. Carson spoke shortly to the telegrapher, at which the latter
+motioned toward the bank building and the private car. Then Carson came
+toward the bank building. An instant later, Carson came in the front door
+and met Corrigan at the wire netting.
+
+"Hullo," said the Irishman, without preliminaries; "the agent was tellin'
+me I'd find a mon named Corrigan here. You're in charge, eh?" he added at
+Corrigan's affirmative. "Well, bedad, somebody's got to be in charge from
+now on. The Willie-boy engineer from who I've been takin' me orders has
+sneaked away to Dry Bottom for a couple av days, shovin' the
+raysponsibility on me--an' I ain't feelin' up to it. I'm a daisy
+construction boss, if I do say it meself, but I ain't enough of a fightin'
+mon to buck the business end av a six-shooter."
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Mebbe you'd know--he said you'd be sure to. I've been parleyin' wid a
+fello' named 'Firebrand' Trevison, an' I'm that soaked wid perspiration
+that me boots is full av it, after me thryin' to urge him to be dacently
+careful wid his gun!"
+
+"What happened?" asked Corrigan, darkly.
+
+"This mon Trevison came down through the cut this mornin', goin' to town.
+He was pleasant as a mon who's had a raise in wages, an' he was joshin'
+wid us. A while ago he comes back from town, an' he's that cold an' polite
+that he'd freeze ye while he's takin' his hat off to ye. One av his arms
+is busted, an' he's got a welt or two on his face. But outside av that
+he's all right. He rides down into the cut where we're all workin' fit to
+kill ourselves. He halts his big black horse about forty or fifty feet
+away from the ol' rattle-box that runs the steam shovel, an' he grins like
+a tiger at me an' says:
+
+"'Carson, I'm wantin' you to pull your min off. I can't permit anny
+railroad min on the Diamond K property. You're a friend av mine, an' all
+that, but you'll have to pull your freight. You've got tin minutes.'
+
+"'I've got me orders to do this work,' I says--begging his pardon.
+
+"'Here's your orders to stop doin' it!' he comes back. An' I was
+inspectin' the muzzle av his six-shooter.
+
+"'Ye wudn't shoot a mon for doin' his duthy?' I says.
+
+"'Thry me,' he says. 'You're trespassers. The railroad company didn't come
+through wid the coin for the right-of-way. Your mon, Corrigan, has got an
+idee that he's goin' to bluff me. I'm callin' his bluff. You've got tin
+minutes to get out av here. At the end av that time I begin to shoot. I've
+got six cattridges in the gun, an' fifty more in the belt around me
+middle. An' I seldom miss whin I shoot. It's up to you whether I start a
+cemetery here or not,' he says, cold an' ca'mlike.
+
+"The ginneys knowed somethin' was up, an' they crowded around. I thought
+Trevison was thryin' to run a bluff on _me_, an' I give orders for the
+ginneys to go back to their work.
+
+"Trevison didn't say another word, but at the end av the tin minutes he
+grins that tiger grin av his an' busts the safety valve on the rattle-box
+wid a shot from his pistol. He smashes the water-gauge wid another, an'
+jammed one shot in the ol' rattle-box's entrails, an' she starts to blow
+off steam----shriekin' like a soul in hell. The ginneys throwed down their
+tools an' started to climb up the walls of the cut like a gang av monkeys,
+Trevison watchin' thim with a grin as cold as a barrow ful ov icicles.
+Murph', the engineer av the dinky, an' his fireman, ducks for the
+engine-cab, l'avin' me standin' there to face the music. Trevison yells at
+the engineer av the rattle-box, an' he disappears like a rat into a hole.
+Thin Trevison swings his gun on me, an' I c'u'd feel me knees knockin'
+together. 'Carson,' he says, 'I hate like blazes to do it, but you're the
+boss here, an' these min will do what you tell thim to do. Tell thim to
+get to hell out of here an' not come back, or I'll down you, sure as me
+name's Trevison!'
+
+"I'm old enough to know from lookin' at a mon whether he manes business or
+not, an' Trevison wasn't foolin'. So I got the bhoys away, an' here we
+are. If you're in charge, it's up to you to smooth things out. Though from
+the looks av your mug 'Firebrand's' been maulin' you some, too!"
+
+Corrigan's answer was a cold glare. "You quit without a fight, eh?" he
+taunted; "you let one man bluff half a hundred of you!"
+
+Carson's eyes brightened. "My recollection is that 'Firebrand' is still
+holdin' the forrt. Whin I got me last look at him he was sittin' on the
+top av the cut, like he was intendin' to stay there indefinite. If ye
+think he's bluffin', mebbe it'd be quite an idee for you to go out there
+yourself, an' call it. I'd be willin' to give ye me moral support."
+
+"I'll call him when I get ready." Corrigan went to the desk and sat in the
+chair, ignoring Carson, who watched him narrowly. Presently he turned and
+spoke to the man:
+
+"Put your men at work trueing up the roadbed on the next section back,
+until further orders."
+
+"An' let 'Firebrand' hold the forrt?"
+
+"Do as you're told!"
+
+Carson went out to his men. Near the station platform he turned and looked
+back at the bank building, grinning. "There's two bulldogs comin' to grips
+in this deal or I'm a domn poor prophet!" he said.
+
+When Braman returned from his errand he found Corrigan staring out of the
+window. The banker announced that Miss Benham had received Corrigan's
+message with considerable equanimity, and was rewarded for his levity with
+a frown.
+
+"What's Carson and his gang doing in town?" he queried.
+
+Corrigan told him, briefly. The banker whistled in astonishment, and his
+face grew long. "I told you he is a tough one!" he reminded.
+
+Corrigan got to his feet. "Yes--he's a tough one," he admitted. "I'm
+forced to alter my plans a little--that's all. But I'll get him. Hunt up
+something to eat," he directed; "I'm hungry. I'm going to the station for
+a few minutes."
+
+He went out, and the banker watched him until he vanished around the
+corner of a building. Then Braman shook his head. "Jeff's resourceful," he
+said. "But Trevison--" His face grew solemn. "What a damned fool I was to
+trip him with that broom!" He drew a pistol from a pocket and examined it
+intently, then returned it to the pocket and sat, staring with unseeing
+eyes beyond the station at the two lines of steel that ran out upon the
+plains and stopped in the deep cut on the crest of which he could see a
+man on a black horse.
+
+Down at the station Corrigan was leaning on a rough wooden counter,
+writing on a yellow paper pad. When he had finished he shoved the paper
+over to the telegrapher, who had been waiting:
+
+  J. Chalfant Benham, B-- Building, New York.
+
+  Unexpected opposition developed. Trevison. Give Lindman removal order
+  immediately. Communicate with me at Dry Bottom tomorrow morning.
+  Corrigan.
+
+Corrigan watched the operator send the message and then he returned to the
+bank building, where he found Braman setting out a meager lunch in the
+rear room. The two men talked as they ate, mostly about Trevison, and the
+banker's face did not lose its worried expression. Later they smoked and
+talked and watched while the afternoon sun grew mellow; while the somber
+twilight descended over the world and darkness came and obliterated the
+hill on which sat the rider of the black horse.
+
+Shortly after dark Corrigan sent the banker on another errand, this time
+to a boarding-house at the edge of town. Braman returned shortly,
+announcing: "He'll be ready." Then, just before midnight Corrigan climbed
+into the cab of the engine which had brought the private car, and which
+was waiting, steam up, several hundred feet down the track from the car.
+
+"All right!" said Corrigan briskly, to the engineer, as he climbed in and
+a flare from the fire-box suffused his face; "pull out. But don't make any
+fuss about it--I don't want those people in the car to know." And shortly
+afterwards the locomotive glided silently away into the darkness toward
+that town in which a judge of the United States Court had, a few hours
+before, received orders which had caused him to remark, bitterly: "So does
+the past shape the future."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+A TELEGRAM AND A GIRL
+
+
+Banker Braman went to bed on the cot in the back room shortly after
+Corrigan departed from Manti. He stretched himself out with a sigh,
+oppressed with the conviction that he had done a bad day's work in
+antagonizing Trevison. The Diamond K owner would repay him, he knew. But
+he knew, too, that he need have no fear that Trevison would sneak about
+it. Therefore he did not expect to feel Trevison at his throat during the
+night. That was some satisfaction.
+
+He dropped to sleep, thinking of Trevison. He awoke about dawn to a loud
+hammering on the rear door, and he scrambled out of bed and opened the
+door upon the telegraph agent. That gentleman gazed at him with grim
+reproof.
+
+"Holy Moses!" he said; "you're a hell of a tight sleeper! I've been
+pounding on this door for an age!" He shoved a sheet of paper under
+Braman's nose. "Here's a telegram for you."
+
+Braman took the telegram, scanning it, while the agent talked on,
+ramblingly. A sickly smile came over Braman's face when he finished
+reading, and then he listened to the agent:
+
+"I got a wire a little after midnight, asking me if that man, Corrigan,
+was still in Manti. The engineer told me he was taking Corrigan back to
+Dry Bottom at midnight, and so I knew he wasn't here, and I clicked back
+'No.' It was from J. C. He must have connected with Corrigan at Dry
+Bottom. That guy Trevison must have old Benham's goat, eh?"
+
+Braman re-read the telegram; it was directed to him:
+
+  Send my daughter to Trevison with cash in amount of check destroyed
+  by Corrigan yesterday. Instruct her to say mistake made. No offense
+  intended. Hustle. J. C. BENHAM.
+
+Braman slipped his clothes on and ran down the track to the private car.
+He had known J. C. Benham several years and was aware that when he issued
+an order he wanted it obeyed, literally. The negro autocrat of the private
+car met him at the platform and grinned amply at the banker's request.
+
+"Miss Benham done tol' me she am not to be disturbed till eight o'clock,"
+he objected. But the telegram in Braman's hands had instant effect upon
+the black custodian of the car, and shortly afterward Miss Benham was
+looking at the banker and his telegram in sleepy-eyed astonishment, the
+door of her compartment open only far enough to permit her to stick her
+head out.
+
+Braman was forced to do much explaining, and concluded by reading the
+telegram to her. She drew everything out of him except the story of the
+fight.
+
+"Well," she said in the end, "I suppose I shall have to go. So his name is
+'Brand' Trevison. And he won't permit the men to work. Why did Mr.
+Corrigan destroy the check?"
+
+Braman evaded, but the girl thought she knew. Corrigan had yielded to an
+impulse of obstinacy provoked by Trevison's assault on him. It was not
+good business--it was almost childish; but it was human to feel that way.
+She felt a slight disappointment in Corrigan, though; the action did not
+quite accord with her previous estimate of him. She did not know what to
+think of Trevison. But of course any man who would deliberately and
+brutally ride another man down, would naturally not hesitate to adopt
+other lawless means of defending himself.
+
+She told Braman to have the money ready for her in an hour, and at the end
+of that time with her morocco handbag bulging, she emerged from the front
+door of the bank and climbed the steps of the private car, which had been
+pulled down to a point in front of the station by the dinky engine, with
+Murphy presiding at the throttle.
+
+Carson was standing on the platform when Miss Benham climbed to it, and he
+grinned and greeted her with:
+
+"If ye have no objections, ma'am, I'll be ridin' down to the cut with ye.
+Me name's Patrick Carson, ma'am."
+
+"I have no objection whatever," said the lady, graciously. "I presume you
+are connected with the railroad?"
+
+"An' wid the ginneys that's buildin' it, ma'am," he supplemented. "I'm the
+construction boss av this section, an' I'm the mon that had the unhappy
+experience av lookin' into the business end av 'Firebrand's' six-shooter
+yisterday."
+
+"'Firebrand's'?" she said, with a puzzled look at him.
+
+"Thot mon, Trevison, ma'am; that's what they call him. An' he fits it
+bedad--beggin' your pardon."
+
+"Oh," she said; "then you know him." And she felt a sudden interest in
+Carson.
+
+"Enough to be certain he ain't to be monkeyed with, ma'am."
+
+She seemed to ignore this. "Please tell the engineer to go ahead," she
+told him. "And then come into the car--I want to talk with you."
+
+A little later, with the car clicking slowly over the rail-joints toward
+the cut, Carson diffidently followed the negro attendant into a luxurious
+compartment, in which, seated in a big leather-covered chair, was Miss
+Benham. She motioned Carson to another chair, and in the conversation that
+followed Miss Benham received a comprehensive estimate of Trevison from
+Carson's viewpoint. It seemed unsatisfying to her--Carson's commendation
+did not appear to coincide with Trevison's performances.
+
+"Have you heard what happened in Manti yesterday?" she questioned. "This
+man, Trevison, jumped his horse against Mr. Corrigan and knocked him
+down."
+
+"I heard av it," grinned Carson. "But I didn't see it. Nor did I see the
+daisy scrap that tuk place right after."
+
+"Fight?" she exclaimed.
+
+Carson reddened. "Sure, ye haven't heard av it, an' I'm blabbin' like a
+kid."
+
+"Tell me about it." Her eyes were aglow with interest.
+
+"There's devilish little to tell--beggin' your pardon, ma'am. But thim
+that was in at the finish is waggin' their tongues about it bein' a dandy
+shindy. Judgin' from the talk, nobuddy got licked--it was a fair dhraw.
+But I sh'ud judge, lookin' at Corrigan's face, that it was a darlin' av a
+scrap."
+
+She was silent, gazing contemplatively out of the car window. Corrigan had
+returned, after escorting her to the car, to engage in a fight with
+Trevison. That was what had occupied him; that was why he had gone away
+without seeing her. Well, Trevison had given him plenty of provocation.
+
+"Trevison's horse knockin' Corrigan down was what started it, they've been
+tellin' me," said Carson. "But thim that know Trevison's black knows that
+Trevison wasn't to blame."
+
+"Not to blame?" she asked; "why not?"
+
+"For the simple rayson thot in a case like thot the mon has no control
+over the baste, ma'am. 'Firebrand' told me only yisterday mornin' thot
+there was no holdin' the black whin somebuddy tried to shoot wid him on
+his back."
+
+The girl remembered how Trevison had tried to speak to her immediately
+after the upsetting of Corrigan, and she knew now, that he had wanted to
+explain his action. Reviewing the incident in the light of Carson's
+explanation, she felt that Corrigan was quite as much at fault as
+Trevison. Somehow, that knowledge was vaguely satisfying.
+
+She did not succeed in questioning Carson further about Trevison, though
+there were many points over which she felt a disturbing curiosity, for
+Agatha came in presently, and after nodding stiffly to Carson, seated
+herself and gazed aloofly out of a window.
+
+Carson, ill at ease in Agatha's presence, soon invented an excuse to go
+out upon the platform, leaving Rosalind to explain his presence in the
+car.
+
+"What on earth could you have to say to a section boss--or he to you?"
+demanded Agatha. "You are becoming very--er--indiscreet, Rosalind."
+
+The girl smiled. It was a smile that would have betrayed the girl had
+Agatha possessed the physiognomist's faculty of analyzation, for in it was
+much relief and renewed faith. For the rider of the black horse was not
+the brutal creature she had thought him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the private car came to a stop, Rosalind looked out of the window to
+see the steep wall of the cut towering above her. Aunt Agatha still sat
+near, and when Rosalind got up Agatha rose also, registering an
+objection:
+
+"I think your father might have arranged to have some _man_ meet this
+outlaw. It is not, in my opinion, a proper errand for a girl. But if you
+are determined to go, I presume I shall have to follow."
+
+"It won't be necessary," said Rosalind. But Agatha set her lips tightly.
+And when the girl reached the platform Agatha was close behind her.
+
+But both halted on the platform as they were about to descend the steps.
+They heard Carson's voice, loud and argumentative:
+
+"There's a lady aboored, I tell ye! If ye shoot, you're a lot of damned
+rapscallions, an' I'll come up there an' bate the head off ye!"
+
+"Stow your gab an' produce the lady!" answered a voice. It came from
+above, and Rosalind stepped down to the floor of the cut and looked
+upward. On the crest of the southern wall were a dozen men--cowboys--armed
+with rifles, peering down at the car. They shifted their gaze to her when
+she stepped into view, and one of them laughed.
+
+"Correct, boys," he said; "it's a lady." There was a short silence;
+Rosalind saw the men gather close--they were talking, but she could not
+hear their voices. Then the man who had spoken first stepped to the edge
+of the cut and called: "What do you want?"
+
+The girl answered: "I want to speak with Mr. Trevison."
+
+"Sorry, ma'am," came back the voice; "but Trevison ain't here--he's at the
+Diamond K."
+
+Rosalind reached a decision quickly. "Aunty," she said; "I am going to the
+Diamond K."
+
+"I forbid you!" said Agatha sternly. "I would not trust you an instant
+with those outlaws!"
+
+"Nonsense," smiled Rosalind. "I am coming up," she called to the man on
+the crest; "do you mind?"
+
+The man laughed. "I reckon not, ma'am."
+
+Rosalind smiled at Carson, who was watching her admiringly, and to the
+smile he answered, pointing eastward to where the slope of the hill melted
+into the plains: "You'll have to go thot way, ma'am." He laughed. "You're
+perfectly safe wid thim min, ma'am--they're Trevison's--an' Trevison wud
+shoot the last mon av thim if they'd harm a hair av your pretty head. Go
+along, ma'am, an' God bless ye! Ye'll be savin' a heap av throuble for me
+an' me ginneys, an' the railroad company." He looked with bland derision
+at Agatha who gave him a glance of scornful reproof as she followed after
+her charge.
+
+The girl was panting when she reached the crest of the cut. Agatha was a
+little white, possibly more from apprehension than from indignation,
+though that emotion had its influence; but their reception could not have
+been more formal had it taken place in an eastern drawing-room. For every
+hat was off, and each man was trying his best to conceal his interest. And
+when men have not seen a woman for a long time, the appearance of a pretty
+one makes it rather hard to maintain polite poise. But they succeeded,
+which spoke well for their manliness. If they exchanged surreptitious
+winks over the appearance of Agatha, they are to be excused, for that
+lady's demeanor was one of frigid haughtiness, which is never quite
+impressive to those who live close to nature.
+
+In an exchange of words, brief and pointed, Rosalind learned that it was
+three miles to the Diamond K ranchhouse, and that Trevison had given
+orders not to be disturbed unless the railroad company attempted to
+continue work at the cut. Could she borrow one of their horses, and a
+guide?
+
+"You bet!" emphatically returned the spokesman who, she learned later, was
+Trevison's foreman. She should have the gentlest "cayuse" in the "bunch,"
+and the foreman would do the guiding, himself. At which word Agatha,
+noting the foreman's enthusiasm, glared coldly at him.
+
+But here Agatha was balked by the insurmountable wall of convention. She
+had ridden horses, to be sure, in her younger days; but when the foreman,
+at Rosalind's request, offered her a pony, she sniffed scornfully and
+marched down the slope toward the private car, saying that if Rosalind was
+_determined_ to persist she might persist without _her_ assistance. For
+there was no side-saddle in the riding equipment of the outfit. And
+Rosalind, quite aware of the prudishness exhibited by her chaperon, and
+not unmindful of the mirth that the men were trying their best to keep
+concealed, rode on with the foreman, with something resembling
+thankfulness for the temporary freedom tugging at her heart.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had camped all night on the crest of the cut. It was only at dawn
+that Barkwell, the foreman who had escorted Rosalind, had appeared at the
+cut on his way to town, and discovered him, and then the foreman's plans
+were changed and he was dispatched to the Diamond K for reinforcements.
+Trevison had ridden back to the Diamond K to care for his arm, which had
+pained him frightfully during the night, and at ten o'clock in the morning
+he was stretched out, fully dressed and wide awake on the bed in his room
+in the ranchhouse, frowningly reviewing the events of the day before.
+
+He was in no good humor, and when he heard Barkwell hallooing from the
+yard near the house, he got up and looked out of a window, a scowl on his
+face.
+
+Rosalind was not in the best of spirits, herself, for during the ride to
+the ranchhouse she had been sending subtly-questioning shafts at the
+foreman--questions that mostly concerned Trevison--and they had all fell,
+blunted and impotent, from the armor of Barkwell's reticence. But a glance
+at Trevison's face, ludicrous in its expression of stunned amazement,
+brought a broad smile to her own. She saw his lips form her name, and then
+she waited demurely until she saw him coming out of the ranchhouse door
+toward her.
+
+He had quite recovered from his surprise, she noted; his manner was that
+of the day before, when she had seen him riding the black horse. When she
+saw him coming lightly toward her, she at first had eyes for nothing but
+his perfect figure, feeling the strength that his close-fitting clothing
+revealed so unmistakably, and an unaccountable blush glowed in her cheeks.
+And then she observed that his left arm was in a sling, and a flash of
+wondering concern swept over her--also unaccountable. And then he was at
+her stirrup, smiling up at her broadly and cordially.
+
+"Welcome to the Diamond K, Miss Benham," he said. "Won't you get off your
+horse?"
+
+"Thank you; I came on business and must return immediately. There has been
+a misunderstanding, my father says. He wired me, directing me to
+apologize, for him, for Mr. Corrigan's actions of yesterday. Perhaps Mr.
+Corrigan over-stepped his authority--I have no means of knowing." She
+passed the morocco bag over to him, and he took it, looking at it in some
+perplexity. "You will find cash in there to the amount named by the check
+that Mr. Corrigan destroyed. I hope," she added, smiling at him, "that
+there will be no more trouble."
+
+"The payment of this money for the right-of-way removes the provocation
+for trouble," he laughed. "Barkwell," he directed, turning to the foreman;
+"you may go back to the outfit." He looked after the foreman as the latter
+rode away, turning presently to Rosalind. "If you will wait a few minutes,
+until I stow this money in a safe place, I'll ride back to the cut with
+you and pull the boys off."
+
+She had wondered much over the rifles in the hands of his men at the cut.
+"Would your men have used their guns?" she asked.
+
+He had turned to go to the house, and he wheeled quickly, astonished.
+"Certainly!" he said; "why not?"
+
+"That would be lawlessness, would it not?" It made her shiver slightly to
+hear him so frankly confess to murderous designs.
+
+"It was not my quarrel," he said, looking at her narrowly, his brows
+contracted. "Law is all right where everybody accepts it as a governor to
+their actions. I accept it when it deals fairly with me--when it's just.
+Certain rights are mine, and I'll fight for them. This situation was
+brought on by Corrigan's obstinacy. We had a fight, and it peeved him
+because I wouldn't permit him to hammer my head off. He destroyed the
+check, and as the company's option expired yesterday it was unlawful for
+the company to trespass on my land."
+
+"Well," she smiled, affected by his vehemence; "we shall have peace now,
+presumably. And--" she reddened again "--I want to ask your pardon on my
+own account, for speaking to you as I did yesterday. I thought you
+brutal--the way you rode your horse over Mr. Corrigan. Mr. Carson assured
+me that the horse was to blame."
+
+"I am indebted to Carson," he laughed, bowing. Rosalind watched him go
+into the house, and then turned and inspected her surroundings. The house
+was big, roomy, with a massive hip roof. A paved gallery stretched the
+entire length of the front--she would have liked to rest for a few minutes
+in the heavy rocker that stood in its cool shadows. No woman lived here,
+she was certain, because there was a lack of evidence of woman's
+handiwork--no filmy curtains at the windows--merely shades; no cushion was
+on the chair--which, by the way, looked lonesome--but perhaps that was
+merely her imagination. Much dust had gathered on the gallery floor and on
+the sash of the windows--a woman would have had things looking
+differently. And so she divined that Trevison was not married. It
+surprised her to discover that that thought had been in her mind, and she
+turned to continue her inspection, filled with wonder that it had been
+there.
+
+She got an impression of breadth and spaciousness out of her survey of the
+buildings and the surrounding country. The buildings were in good
+condition; everything looked substantial and homelike and her
+contemplation of it aroused in her a yearning for a house and land in this
+section of the country, it was so peaceful and dignified in comparison
+with the life she knew.
+
+She watched Trevison when he emerged from the house, and smiled when he
+returned the empty handbag. He went to a small building near a fenced
+enclosure--the corral, she learned afterward--and came out carrying a
+saddle, which he hung on the fence while he captured the black horse,
+which she had already observed. The animal evaded capture, playfully, but
+in the end it trotted mincingly to Trevison and permitted him to throw the
+bridle on. Then, shortly afterward he mounted the black and together they
+rode back toward the cut.
+
+As they rode the girl's curiosity for the man who rode beside her grew
+acute. She was aware--she had been aware all along--that he was far
+different from the other men of Manti--there was about him an atmosphere
+of refinement and quiet confidence that mingled admirably with his
+magnificent physical force, tempering it, suggesting reserve power,
+hinting of excellent mental capacity. She determined to know something
+about him. And so she began subtly:
+
+"In a section of country so large as this it seems that our American
+measure of length--a mile--should be stretched to something that would
+more adequately express size. Don't you think so?"
+
+He looked quickly at her. "That is an odd thought," he laughed, "but it
+inevitably attacks the person who views the yawning distances here for the
+first time. Why not use the English mile if the American doesn't
+satisfy?"
+
+"There is a measure that exceeds that, isn't there? Wasn't there a Persian
+measure somewhat longer, fathered by Herodotus or another of the ancients?
+I am sure there was--or is--but I have forgotten?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "--a parasang." He looked narrowly at her and saw her eyes
+brighten.
+
+She had made progress; she felt much satisfaction.
+
+"You are not a native," she said.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Cowboys do not commonly measure their distances with parasangs," she
+laughed.
+
+"Nor do ordinary women try to shake off ennui by coming West in private
+cars," he drawled.
+
+She started and looking quickly at him. "How did you know that was what
+happened to me?" she demanded.
+
+"Because you're too spirited and vigorous to spend your life dawdling in
+society. You yearn for action, for the broad, free life of the open.
+You're in love with this country right now."
+
+"Yes, yes," she said, astonished; "but how do you know?"
+
+"You might have sent a man here in your place--Braman, for instance; he
+could be trusted. You came yourself, eager for adventure--you came on a
+borrowed horse. When you were looking at the country from the horse in
+front of my house, I saw you sigh."
+
+"Well," she said, with flushed face and glowing eyes; "I _have_ decided to
+live out here--for a time, at least. So you were watching me?"
+
+"Just a glance," he defended, grinning; "I couldn't help it. Please
+forgive me."
+
+"I suppose I'll have to," she laughed, delighted, reveling in this freedom
+of speech, in his directness. His manner touched a spark somewhere in her,
+she felt strangely elated, exhilarated. When she reflected that this was
+only their second meeting and that she had not been conventionally
+introduced to him, she was amazed. Had a stranger of her set talked to her
+so familiarly she would have resented it. Out here it seemed to be
+perfectly natural.
+
+"How do you know I borrowed a horse to come here?" she asked.
+
+"That's easy," he grinned; "there's the Diamond K brand on his hip."
+
+"Oh."
+
+They rode on a little distance in silence, and then she remembered that
+she was still curious about him. His frankness had affected her; she did
+not think it impertinent to betray curiosity.
+
+"How long have you lived out here?" she asked.
+
+"About ten years."
+
+"You weren't born here, of course--you have admitted that. Then where did
+you come from?"
+
+"This is a large country," he returned, unsmilingly.
+
+It was a reproof, certainly--Rosalind could go no farther in that
+direction. But her words had brought a mystery into existence, thus
+sharpening her interest in him. She was conscious, though, of a slight
+pique--what possible reason could he have for evasion? He had not the
+appearance of a fugitive from justice.
+
+"So you're going to live out here?" he said, after an interval. "Where?"
+
+"I heard father speak of buying Blakeley's place. Do you know where it
+is?"
+
+"It adjoins mine." There was a leaping note in his voice, which she did
+not fail to catch. "Do you see that dark line over there?" He pointed
+eastward--a mile perhaps. "That's a gully; it divides my land from
+Blakeley's. Blakeley told me a month ago that he was dickering with an
+eastern man. If you are thinking of looking the place over, and want a
+trustworthy escort I should be pleased to recommend--myself." And he
+grinned widely at her.
+
+"I shall consider your offer--and I thank you for it," she returned. "I
+feel positive that father will buy a ranch here, for he has much faith in
+the future of Manti--he is obsessed with it."
+
+He looked sharply at her. "Then your father is going to have a hand in the
+development of Manti? I heard a rumor to the effect that some eastern
+company was interested, had, in fact, secured the water rights for an
+enormous section."
+
+She remembered what Corrigan had told her, and blushingly dissembled:
+
+"I put no faith in rumor--do you? Mr. Corrigan is the head of the company
+which is to develop Manti. But of course _that_ is an eastern company,
+isn't it?"
+
+He nodded, and she smiled at a thought that came to her. "How far is it to
+Blakeley's ranchhouse?" she asked.
+
+"About two parasangs," he answered gravely.
+
+"Well," she said, mimicking him; "I could _never_ walk there, could I? If
+I go, I shall have to borrow a horse--or buy one. Could you recommend a
+horse that would be as trustworthy as the escort you have promised me?"
+
+"We shall go to Blakeley's tomorrow," he told her. "I shall bring you a
+trustworthy horse at ten o'clock in the morning."
+
+They were approaching the cut, and she nodded an acceptance. An instant
+later he was talking to his men, and she sat near him, watching them as
+they raced over the plains toward the Diamond K ranchhouse. One man
+remained; he was without a mount, and he grinned with embarrassment when
+Rosalind's gaze rested on him.
+
+"Oh," she said; "you are waiting for your horse! How stupid of me!" She
+dismounted and turned the animal over to him. When she looked around,
+Trevison had also dismounted and was coming toward her, leading the black,
+the reins looped through his arm. Rosalind flushed, and thought of Agatha,
+but offered no objection.
+
+It was a long walk down the slope of the hill and around its base to the
+private car, but they made it still longer by walking slowly and taking
+the most roundabout way. Three persons saw them coming--Agatha, standing
+rigid on the platform; the negro attendant, standing behind Agatha in the
+doorway, his eyes wide with interest; and Carson, seated on a boulder a
+little distance down the cut, grinning broadly.
+
+"Bedad," he rumbled; "the bhoy's made a hit wid her, or I'm a sinner! But
+didn't I know he wud? The two bulldogs is goin' to have it now, sure as
+I'm a foot high!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A JUDICIAL PUPPET
+
+
+Bowling along over the new tracks toward Manti in a special car secured at
+Dry Bottom by Corrigan, one compartment of which was packed closely with
+books, papers, ledger records, legal documents, blanks, and even office
+furniture, Judge Lindman watched the landscape unfold with mingled
+feelings of trepidation, reluctance, and impotent regret. The Judge's face
+was not a strong one--had it been he would not have been seated in the
+special car, talking with Corrigan. He was just under sixty-five years,
+and their weight seemed to rest heavily upon him. His eyes were slightly
+bleary, and had a look of weariness, as though he had endured much and was
+utterly tired. His mouth was flaccid, the lips pouting when he compressed
+his jaws, giving his face the sullen, indecisive look of the brooder
+lacking the mental and physical courage of independent action and
+initiative. The Judge could be led; Corrigan was leading him now, and the
+Judge was reluctant, but his courage had oozed, back in Dry Bottom, when
+Corrigan had mentioned a culpable action which the Judge had regretted
+many times.
+
+Some legal records of the county were on the table between the two men.
+The Judge had objected when Corrigan had secured them from the compartment
+where the others were piled.
+
+"It isn't regular, Mr. Corrigan," he had said; "no one except a legally
+authorized person has the right to look over those books."
+
+"We'll say that I am legally authorized, then," grinned Corrigan. The look
+in his eyes was one of amused contempt. "It isn't the only irregular thing
+you have done, Lindman."
+
+The Judge subsided, but back in his eyes was a slumbering hatred for this
+man, who was forcing him to complicity in another crime. He regretted that
+other crime; why should this man deliberately remind him of it?
+
+After looking over the records, Corrigan outlined a scheme of action that
+made the Judge's face blanch.
+
+"I won't be a party to any such scurrilous undertaking!" he declared when,
+he could trust his voice; "I--I won't permit it!"
+
+Corrigan stretched his legs out under the table, shoved his hands into his
+trousers' pockets and laughed.
+
+"Why the high moral attitude, Judge? It doesn't become you. Refuse if you
+like. When we get to Manti I shall wire Benham. It's likely he'll feel
+pretty sore. He's got his heart set on this. And I have no doubt that
+after he gets my wire he'll jump the next train for Washington, and--"
+
+The Judge exclaimed with weak incoherence, and a few minutes later he was
+bending over the records with Corrigan--the latter making sundry copies on
+a pad of paper, which he placed in a pocket when the work was completed.
+
+At noon the special car was in Manti. Corrigan, the Judge, and Braman,
+carried the Judge's effects and stored them in the rear room of the bank
+building. "I'll build you a courthouse, tomorrow," he promised the Judge;
+"big enough for you and a number of deputies. You'll need deputies, you
+know." He grinned as the Judge shrank. Then, leaving the Judge in the room
+with his books and papers, Corrigan drew Braman outside.
+
+"I got hell from Benham for destroying Trevison's check--he wired me to
+attend to my other deals and let him run the railroad--the damned old
+fool! You must have taken the cash to Trevison--I see the gang's working
+again."
+
+"The cash went," said the banker, watching Corrigan covertly, "but I
+didn't take it. J. C. wired explicit orders for his daughter to act."
+
+Corrigan cursed viciously, his face dark with wrath as he turned to look
+at the private car, on the switch. The banker watched him with secret,
+vindictive enjoyment. Miss Benham had judged Braman correctly--he was
+cold, crafty, selfish, and wholly devoid of sympathy. He was for Braman,
+first and last--and in the interim.
+
+"Miss Benham went to the cut--so I hear," he went on, smoothly. "Trevison
+wasn't there. Miss Benham went to the Diamond K." His eyes gleamed as
+Corrigan's hands clenched. "Trevison rode back to the car with her--which
+she had ordered taken to the cut," went on the banker. "And this morning
+about ten o'clock Trevison came here with a led horse. He and Miss Benham
+rode away together. I heard her tell her aunt they were going to
+Blakeley's ranch--it's about eight miles from here."
+
+Corrigan's face went white. "I'll kill him for that!" he said.
+
+"Jealous, eh?" laughed the banker. "So, that's the reason--"
+
+Corrigan turned and struck bitterly. The banker's jaws clacked
+sharply--otherwise he fell silently, striking his head against the edge of
+the step and rolling, face down, into the dust.
+
+When he recovered and sat up, Corrigan had gone. The banker gazed
+foolishly around at a world that was still reeling--felt his jaw
+carefully, wonder and astonishment in his eyes.
+
+"What do you know about that?" he asked of the surrounding silence. "I've
+kidded him about women before, and he never got sore. He must be in
+love!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Riding through a saccaton basin, the green-brown tips so high that they
+caught at their stirrups as they rode slowly along; a white, smiling sky
+above them and Blakeley's still three miles away, Miss Benham and Trevison
+were chatting gayly at the instant the banker had received Corrigan's
+blow.
+
+Miss Benham had spent the night thinking of Trevison, and she had spent
+much of her time during the present ride stealing glances at him. She had
+discovered something about him that had eluded her the day before--an
+impulsive boyishness. It was hidden behind the manhood of him, so that the
+casual observer would not be likely to see it; men would have failed to
+see it, because she was certain that with men he would not let it be seen.
+But she knew the recklessness that shone in his eyes, the energy that
+slumbered in them ready to be applied any moment in response to any whim
+that might seize him, were traits that had not yet yielded to the stern
+governors of manhood--nor would they yield in many years to come--they
+were the fountains of virility that would keep him young. She felt the
+irresistible appeal of him, responsive to the youth that flourished in her
+own heart--and Corrigan, older, more ponderous, less addicted to impulse,
+grew distant in her thoughts and vision. The day before yesterday her
+sympathies had been with Corrigan--she had thought. But as she rode she
+knew that they were threatening to desert him. For this man of heroic mold
+who rode beside her was disquietingly captivating in the bold recklessness
+of his youth.
+
+They climbed the far slope of the basin and halted their horses on the
+crest. Before them stretched a plain so big and vast and inviting that it
+made the girl gasp with delight.
+
+"Oh," she said, awed; "isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"I knew you'd like it."
+
+"The East has nothing like this," she said, with a broad sweep of the
+hand.
+
+"No," he said.
+
+She turned on him triumphantly. "There!" she declared; "you have committed
+yourself. You are from the East!"
+
+"Well," he said; "I've never denied it."
+
+Something vague and subtle had drawn them together during the ride,
+bridging the hiatus of strangeness, making them feel that they had been
+acquainted long. It did not seem impertinent to her that she should ask
+the question that she now put to him--she felt that her interest in him
+permitted it:
+
+"You are an easterner, and yet you have been out here for about ten years.
+Your house is big and substantial, but I should judge that it has no
+comforts, no conveniences. You live there alone, except for some men, and
+you have male servants--if you have any. Why should you bury yourself
+here? You are educated, you are young. There are great opportunities for
+you in the East!"
+
+She paused, for she saw a cynical expression in his eyes.
+
+"Well?" she said, impatiently, for she had been very much in earnest.
+
+"I suppose I've got to tell you," he said, soberly. "I don't know what has
+come over me--you seem to have me under a spell. I've never spoken about
+it before. I don't know why I should now. But you've got to know, I
+presume."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"On your head rest the blame," he said, his grin still cynical; "and upon
+mine the consequences. It isn't a pretty story to tell; it's only virtue
+is its brevity. I was fired out of college for fighting. The fellows I
+licked deserved what they got--and I deserved what I got for breaking
+rules. I've always broken rules. I may have broken laws--most of us have.
+My father is wealthy. The last time I saw him he said I was incorrigible
+and a dunce. I admit the former, but I'm going to make him take the other
+back. I told him so. He replied that he was from Missouri. He gave me an
+opportunity to make good by cutting off my allowance. There was a girl.
+When my allowance was cut off she made me feel cold as an Eskimo. Told me
+straight that she had never liked me in the way she'd led me to believe
+she did, and that she was engaged to a _real_ man. She made the mistake of
+telling me his name, and it happened to be one of the fellows I'd had
+trouble with at college. The girl lost her temper and told me things he'd
+said about me. I left New York that night, but before I hopped on the
+train I stopped in to see my rival and gave him the bulliest trimming that
+I had ever given anybody. I came out here and took up a quarter-section of
+land. I bought more--after a while. I own five thousand acres, and about a
+thousand acres of it is the best coal land in the United States. I
+wouldn't sell it for love or money, for when your father gets his railroad
+running, I'm going to cash in on ten of the leanest and hardest and
+lonesomest years that any man ever put in. I'm going back some day. But I
+won't stay. I've lived in this country so long that it's got into my heart
+and soul. It's a golden paradise."
+
+She did not share his enthusiasm--her thoughts were selfishly personal,
+though they included him.
+
+"And the girl!" she said. "When you go back, would you--"
+
+"Never!" he scoffed, vehemently. "That would convince me that I am the
+dunce my father said I was!"
+
+The girl turned her head and smiled. And a little later, when they were
+riding on again, she murmured softly:
+
+"Ten years of lonesomeness and bitterness to save his pride! I wonder if
+Hester Keyes knows what she has missed?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+TWO LETTERS GO EAST
+
+
+After Agatha retired that night Rosalind sat for a long time writing at a
+little desk in the private car. She was tingling with excitement over a
+discovery she had made, and was yearning for a confidante. Since it had
+not been her habit to confide in Agatha, she did the next best thing,
+which was to indite a letter to her chum, Ruth Gresham. In one place she
+wrote:
+
+"Do you remember Hester Keyes' love affair of ten years ago? You certainly
+must remember it! If you cannot, permit me to brush the dust of
+forgetfulness away. You cannot forget the night you met William Kinkaid?
+Of course you cannot forget that, for when you are Mrs. Kinkaid--But
+there! I won't poke fun at you. But I think every married person needs to
+treasure every shred of romance against inevitable hum-drum days. Isn't
+that a sad sentiment? But I want to get ahead with my reminder."
+
+There followed much detail, having to do with Hester Keyes' party, to
+which neither Rosalind nor Ruth Gresham had been invited, for reasons
+which Rosalind presently made obvious. She continued:
+
+"Of course, custom does not permit girls of fourteen to figure prominently
+at 'coming-out' parties, but after one is there and is relegated to a
+stair-landing, one may use one's eyes without restriction. Do you remember
+my pointing out Hester Keyes' 'fellow'? But of course you didn't pay much
+attention to him after Billy Kinkaid sailed into your vision! But I envied
+Hester Keyes her eighteen years--and Trevison Brandon! He had the blackest
+eyes and hair! And he simply adored Hester! It made me feel positively
+savage when I heard shortly afterward that she had thrown him over--after
+his father cut him off--to take up with that fellow Harvey--I never could
+remember his first name. And she married Harvey--and regretted it, until
+Harvey died.
+
+"Ruth, Trevison Brandon is out here. He calls himself 'Brand' Trevison. I
+met him two days ago, and I did not recognize him, he has changed so much.
+He puzzled me quite a little; but not even when I heard his name did I
+connect him with the man I had seen at Hester's party. Ten years is _such_
+a long time, isn't it? And I never did have much of a memory for names.
+But today he went with me to a certain ranch--Blakeley's--which, by the
+way, _father is going to buy_--and on the way we became very much
+acquainted, and he told me about his love affair. I placed him instantly,
+then, and why I didn't keel over was, I suppose, because of the curious
+big saddles they have out here, with enormous wooden _stirrups_ on them. I
+can hear you exclaim over that plural, but there are no side-saddles. That
+is how it came that I was unchaperoned--Agatha won't take liberties with
+them, the saddles. Thank Heaven!"
+
+There followed much more, with only one further reference to Trevison:
+
+"He must be nearly thirty now, but he doesn't look it, he's so boyish. I
+gather, though, that he is regarded as a _man_ out here, where, I
+understand, manhood is measured by something besides mere appearances. He
+owns acres and acres of land--some of it has coal on it; and he is sure to
+be enormously wealthy, some day. But I am twenty-four, myself."
+
+The startling irrelevance of this sentence at first surprised Ruth
+Gresham, and then caused her eyes to brighten understandingly, as she read
+the letter a few days later. She remarked, musingly:
+
+"The inevitable hum-drum days, eh? And yet most people long for them."
+
+Another letter was written when the one to Ruth was completed. It was to
+J. Chalfant Benham.
+
+  "DEAR DADDY:
+
+  "The West is a golden paradise. I could live here many, many years. I
+  visited Mr. Blakeley today. He calls his ranch the Bar B. We wouldn't
+  have to change the brand, would we? Trevison says the ranch is worth
+  all Blakeley asks for it. Mr. Blakeley says we can take possession
+  immediately, so I have decided to stay here. Mrs. Blakeley has
+  invited me, and I am going to have my things taken over tomorrow.
+  Since the Blakeley's are anxious to sell out and return South, don't
+  you think you had better conclude the deal at once?
+
+                                                      "Lovingly,
+                                                         "ROSALIND."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE CHAOS OF CREATION
+
+
+The West saw many "boom" towns. They followed in the wake of "gold
+strikes;" they grew, mushroom-like, overnight--garish husks of squalor,
+palpitating, hardy, a-tingle with extravagant hopes. A few, it is true,
+lived to become substantial cities buzzing with the American spirit,
+panting, fighting for progress with an energy that shamed the Old World,
+lethargic in its smug and self-sufficient superiority. But many towns died
+in their gangling youth, tragic monuments to hopes; but monuments also to
+effort, and to the pioneer courage and the dreams of an empire-building
+people.
+
+Manti was destined to live. It was a boom town with material reasons for
+substantial growth. Behind it were the resources of a railroad company
+which would anticipate the development of a section of country bigger than
+a dozen Old-world states, and men with brains keen enough to realize the
+commercial possibilities it held. It had Corrigan for an advance
+agent--big, confident, magnetic, energetic, suave, smooth.
+
+Manti had awaited his coming; he was the magic force, the fulfillment of
+the rumored promise. He had stayed away for three weeks, following his
+departure on the special car after bringing Judge Lindman, and when he
+stepped off the car again at the end of that time Manti was "humming," as
+he had predicted. During the three weeks of his absence, the switch at
+Manti had never been unoccupied. Trains had been coming in regularly
+bearing merchandise, men, tools, machines, supplies. Engineers had
+arrived; the basin near Manti, choked by a narrow gorge at its westerly
+end (where the dam was to be built) was dotted with tents, wagons, digging
+implements, a miscellany of material whose hauling had worn a rutted trail
+over the plains and on the slope of the basin, continually active with
+wagon-train and pack horse, and articulate with sweating, cursing
+drivers.
+
+"She's a pippin!" gleefully confided a sleek-looking individual who might
+have been mistaken for a western "parson" had it not been for a certain
+sophisticated cynicism that was prominent about him, and which imparted a
+distasteful taint of his profession. "Give me a year of this and I'll open
+a joint in Frisco! I cleaned out a brace of bull-whackers in the _Plaza_
+last night--their first pay. Afterward I stung a couple of cattlemen for a
+hundred each. Look at her hum!"
+
+Notwithstanding that it was midday, Manti was teeming with life and
+action. Since the day that Miss Benham had viewed the town from the window
+of the private car, Manti had added more than a hundred buildings to its
+total. They were not attractive; they were ludicrous in their pitiful
+masquerade of substantial types. Here and there a three-story structure
+reared aloft, sheathed with galvanized iron, a garish aristocrat seemingly
+conscious of its superiority, brazen, in its bid for attention; more
+modest buildings seemed dwarfed, humiliated, squatting sullenly and
+enviously. There were hotels, rooming-houses, boarding-houses, stores,
+dwellings, saloons--and others which for many reasons need not be
+mentioned. But they were pulsating with life, electric, eager, expectant.
+Taking advantage of the scarcity of buildings, an enterprising citizen had
+erected tents in rows on the street line, for whose shelter he charged
+enormously--and did a capacity business.
+
+"A hundred came in on the last train," complained the over-worked station
+agent. "God knows what they all expect to do here!"
+
+Corrigan had kept his promise to build Judge Lindman a courthouse. It was
+a flat-roofed structure, one story high, wedged between a saloon and
+Braman's bank building. A sign in the front window of Braman's bank
+announced that Jefferson Corrigan, agent of the Land & Improvement
+Company, of New York, had office space within, but on the morning of the
+day following his return to Manti, Corrigan was seated at one side of a
+flat-top desk in the courthouse, talking with Judge Lindman, who sat at
+the other side.
+
+"Got them all transcribed?" asked Corrigan.
+
+The Judge drew a thin ledger from his desk and passed it over to Corrigan.
+As Corrigan turned the pages and his face lighted, the Judge's grew
+correspondingly troubled.
+
+"All right," exulted Corrigan. "This purports to be an accurate and true
+record of all the land transactions in this section from the special grant
+to the Midland Company, down to date. It shows no intermediate owners from
+the Midland Company to the present claimants. As a document arraigning
+carelessness on the part of land buyers it cannot be excelled. There isn't
+a present owner that has a legal leg to stand on!"
+
+"There is only one weak point in your case," said the Judge, and his eyes
+gleamed with satisfaction, which he concealed by bowing his head. "It is
+that since these records show no sale of its property by the Midland
+Company, the Midland Company can come forward and re-establish its
+title."
+
+Corrigan laughed and flipped a legal-looking paper in front of the Judge.
+The latter opened it and read, showing eagerness. He laid it down after
+reading, his hands trembling.
+
+"It shows that the Midland Company--James Marchmont,
+president--transferred to Jefferson Corrigan, on a date prior to these
+other transactions, one-hundred thousand acres of land here--the Midland
+Company's entire holdings. Why, man, it is forgery!"
+
+"No," said Corrigan quietly. "James Marchmont is alive. He signed his name
+right where it is. He'll confirm it, too, for he happens to be in
+something of the fix that you are in. Therefore, there being no records of
+any sales on your books--as revised, of course--" he laughed; "Jeff
+Corrigan is the legal possessor of one-hundred thousand acres of land
+right in the heart of what is going to be the boom section of the West!"
+He chuckled, lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair and looked at the
+Judge. "All you have to do now is to enter that transaction on your
+records."
+
+"You don't expect the present owners to yield their titles without a
+fight, do you?" asked the Judge. He spoke breathlessly.
+
+Corrigan grunted. "Sure; they'll fight. But they'll lose. I've got them.
+I've got the power--the courts--the law, behind me. I've got them, and
+I'll squeeze them. It means a mint of money, man. It will make you. It's
+the biggest thing that any man ever attempted to pull off in this
+country!"
+
+"Yes, it's big," groaned the Judge; "it's stupendous! It's frightful! Why,
+man, if anything goes wrong, it would mean--" He paused and shivered.
+
+Corrigan smiled contemptuously. "Where's the original record?" he asked.
+
+"I destroyed it," said the Judge. He did not look at Corrigan. "How?"
+demanded the latter.
+
+"Burned it."
+
+"Good." Corrigan rubbed his palms together. "It's too soon to start
+anything. Things are booming, and some of these owners will be trying to
+sell. Hold them off--don't record anything. Give them any excuse that
+comes to your mind. Have you heard from Washington?"
+
+"The establishment of the court here has been confirmed."
+
+"Quick work," laughed Corrigan. He got up, murmuring something about
+having to take care of some leases. When he turned, it was to start and
+stand rigid, his jaws set, his face pale. A man stood in the open
+doorway--a man of about fifty apparently, furtive-eyed, slightly shabby,
+though with an atmosphere about him that hinted of past dignity of
+carriage.
+
+"Jim Marchmont!" said Corrigan. He stepped forward, threateningly, his
+face dark with wrath. Without speaking another word he seized the newcomer
+by the coat collar, snapping his head back savagely, and dragged him back
+of a wooden partition. Concealed there from any of the curious in the
+street, he jammed Marchmont against the wall of the building, held him
+there with one hand and stuck a huge fist into his face.
+
+"What in hell are you doing here?" he demanded. "Come clean, or I'll tear
+you apart!"
+
+The other laughed, but there was no mirth in it, and his thin lips were
+curved queerly, and were stiff and white. "Don't get excited, Jeff," he
+said; "it won't be healthy." And Corrigan felt something hard and cold
+against his shirt front. He knew it was a pistol and he released his hold
+and stepped back.
+
+"Speaking of coming clean," said Marchmont. "You crossed me. You told me
+you were going to sell the Midland land to two big ranch-owners. I find
+that you're going to cut it up into lots and make big money--loads of it.
+You handed me a measly thousand. You stand to make millions. I want my
+divvy."
+
+"You've got your nerve," scoffed Corrigan. "You got your bit when you sold
+the Midland before. You're a self-convicted crook, and if you make a peep
+out here I'll send you over the road for a thousand years!"
+
+"Another thousand now," said Marchmont: "and ten more when you commence to
+cash in. Otherwise, a thousand years or not, I'll start yapping here and
+queer your game."
+
+Corrigan's lips were in an ugly pout. For an instant it seemed he was
+going to defy his visitor. Then without a word to him he stepped around
+the partition, walked out the door and entered the bank. A few minutes
+later he passed a bundle of greenbacks to Marchmont and escorted him to
+the front door, where he stood, watching, his face unpleasant, until
+Marchmont vanished into one of the saloons.
+
+"That settles _you_, you damned fool!" he said.
+
+He stepped down into the street and went into the bank. Braman fawned on
+him, smirking insincerely. Corrigan had not apologized for striking the
+blow, had never mentioned it, continuing his former attitude toward the
+banker as though nothing had happened. But Braman had not forgiven him.
+Corrigan wasted no words:
+
+"Who's the best gun-man in this section?"
+
+Braman studied a minute. "Clay Levins," he said, finally.
+
+"Can you find him?"
+
+"Why, he's in town today; I saw him not more than fifteen minutes ago,
+going into the _Elk_!"
+
+"Find him and bring him here--by the back way," directed Corrigan.
+
+Braman went out, wondering. A few minutes later he returned, coming in at
+the front door, smiling with triumph. Shortly afterward Corrigan was
+opening the rear door on a tall, slender man of thirty-five, with a thin
+face, a mouth that drooped at the corners, and alert, furtive eyes. He
+wore a heavy pistol at his right hip, low, the bottom of the holster tied
+to the leather chaps, and as Corrigan closed the door he noted that the
+man's right hand lingered close to the butt of the weapon.
+
+"That's all right," said Corrigan; "you're perfectly safe here."
+
+He talked in low tones to the man, so that Braman could not hear. Levins
+departed shortly afterwards, grinning crookedly, tucking a piece of paper
+into a pocket, upon which Corrigan had transcribed something that had been
+written on the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Corrigan went to his desk and
+busied himself with some papers. Over in the courthouse, Judge Lindman
+took from a drawer in his desk a thin ledger--a duplicate of the one he
+had shown Corrigan--and going to the rear of the room opened the door of
+an iron safe and stuck the ledger out of sight under a mass of legal
+papers.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Marchmont left Corrigan he went straight to the _Plaza_, where he
+ordered a lunch and ate heartily. After finishing his meal he emerged from
+the saloon and stood near one of the front windows. One of the hundred
+dollar bills that Corrigan had given him he had "broke" in the _Plaza_,
+getting bills of small denomination in change, and in his right trousers'
+pocket was a roll that bulked comfortably in his hand. The feel of it made
+him tingle with satisfaction, as, except for the other thousand that
+Corrigan had given him some months ago, it was the only money he had had
+for a long time. He knew he should take the next train out of Manti; that
+he had done a hazardous thing in baiting Corrigan, but he was lonesome and
+yearned for the touch and voice of the crowds that thronged in and out of
+the saloons and the stores, and presently he joined them, wandering from
+saloon to saloon, drinking occasionally, his content and satisfaction
+increasing in proportion to the quantity of liquor he drank.
+
+And then, at about three o'clock, in the barroom of the _Plaza_, he heard
+a discordant voice at his elbow. He saw men crowding, jostling one another
+to get away from the spot where he stood--crouching, pale of face, their
+eyes on him. It made him feel that he was the center of interest, and he
+wheeled, staggering a little--for he had drunk much more than he had
+intended--to see what had happened. He saw Clay Levins standing close to
+him, his thin lips in a cruel curve, his eyes narrowed and glittering, his
+body in a suggestive crouch. The silence that had suddenly descended smote
+Marchmont's ears like a momentary deafness, and he looked foolishly around
+him, uncertain, puzzled. Levins' voice shocked him, sobered him, whitened
+his face:
+
+"Fork over that coin you lifted from me in the _Elk_, you light-fingered
+hound!" said Levins.
+
+Marchmont divined the truth now. He made his second mistake of the day. He
+allowed a flash of rage to trick him into reaching for his pistol. He got
+it into his hand and almost out of the pocket before Levins' first bullet
+struck him, and before he could draw it entirely out the second savage
+bark of the gun in Levins' hand shattered the stillness of the room.
+Soundlessly, his face wreathed in a grin of hideous satire, Marchmont sank
+to the floor and stretched out on his back.
+
+Before his body was still, Levins had drawn out the bills that had reposed
+in his victim's pocket. Crumpling them in his hand he walked to the bar
+and tossed them to the barkeeper.
+
+"Look at 'em," he directed. "I'm provin' they're mine. Good thing I got
+the numbers on 'em." While the crowd jostled and crushed about him he read
+the numbers from the paper Corrigan had given him, grinning coldly as the
+barkeeper confirmed them. A deputy sheriff elbowed his way through the
+press to Levins' side, and the gun-man spoke to him, lightly: "I reckon
+everybody saw him reach for his gun when I told him to fork the coin
+over," he said, indicating his victim. "So you ain't got nothin' on me.
+But if you're figgerin' that the coin ain't mine, why I reckon a guy named
+Corrigan will back up my play."
+
+The deputy took him at his word. They found Corrigan at his desk in the
+bank building.
+
+"Sure," he said when the deputy had told his story; "I paid Levins the
+money this morning. Is it necessary for you to know what for? No? Well, it
+seems that the pickpocket got just what he deserved." He offered the
+deputy a cigar, and the latter went out, satisfied.
+
+Later, Corrigan looked appraisingly at Levins, who still graced the
+office.
+
+"That was rather an easy job," he said. "Marchmont was slow with a gun.
+With a faster man--a man, say--" he appeared to meditate "--like Trevison,
+for instance. You'd have to be pretty careful--"
+
+"Trevison's my friend," grinned Levins coldly as he got to his feet.
+"There's nothin' doin' there--understand? Get it out of your brain-box,
+for if anything happens to 'Firebrand,' I'll perforate you sure as hell!"
+
+He stalked out of the office, leaving Corrigan looking after him,
+frowningly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+STRAIGHT TALK
+
+
+Ten years of lonesomeness, of separation from all the things he held dear,
+with nothing for his soul to feed upon except the bitterness he got from a
+contemplation of the past; with nothing but his pride and his
+determination to keep him from becoming what he had seen many men in this
+country become--dissolute irresponsibles, drifting like ships without
+rudders--had brought into Trevison's heart a great longing. He was like a
+man who for a long time has been deprived of the solace of good tobacco,
+and--to use a simile that he himself manufactured--he yearned to capture
+someone from the East, sit beside him and fill his lungs, his brain, his
+heart, his soul, with the breath, the aroma, the spirit of the land of his
+youth. The appearance of Miss Benham at Manti had thrilled him. For ten
+years he had seen no eastern woman, and at sight of her the old hunger of
+the soul became acute in him, aroused in him a passionate worship that
+made his blood run riot. It was the call of sex to sex, made doubly
+stirring by the girl's beauty, her breeziness, her virile, alluring
+womanhood--by the appeal she made to the love of the good and the true in
+his character. His affection for Hester Keyes, he had long known, had been
+merely the vanity-tickling regard of the callow youth--the sex attraction
+of adolescence, the "puppy" love that smites all youth alike. For Rosalind
+Benham a deeper note had been struck. Its force rocked him, intoxicated
+him; his head rang with the music it made.
+
+During the three weeks of her stay at Blakeley's they had been much
+together. Rosalind had accepted his companionship as a matter of course.
+He had told her many things about his past, and was telling her many more
+things, as they sat today on an isolated excrescence of sand and rock and
+bunch grass surrounded by a sea of sage. From where they sat they could
+see Manti--Manti, alive, athrob, its newly-come hundreds busy as ants with
+their different pursuits.
+
+The intoxication of the girl's presence had never been so great as it was
+today. A dozen times, drunken with the nearness of her, with the delicate
+odor from her hair, as a stray wisp fluttered into his face, he had come
+very near to catching her in his arms. But he had grimly mastered the
+feeling, telling himself that he was not a savage, and that such an action
+would be suicidal to his hopes. It cost him an effort, though, to restrain
+himself, as his flushed face, his burning eyes and his labored breath,
+told.
+
+His broken wrist had healed. His hatred of Corrigan had been kept alive by
+a recollection of the fight, by a memory of the big man's quickness to
+take advantage of the banker's foul trick, and by the passion for revenge
+that had seized him, that held him in a burning clutch. Jealousy of the
+big man he would not have admitted; but something swelled his chest when
+he thought of Corrigan coming West in the same car with the girl--a vague,
+gnawing something that made his teeth clench and his facial muscles cord.
+
+Rosalind had not told him that she had recognized him, that during the ten
+years of his exile he had been her ideal, but she could close her eyes at
+this minute and imagine herself on the stair-landing at Hester Keyes'
+party, could feel the identical wave of thrilling admiration that had
+passed over her when her gaze had first rested on him. Yes, it had
+survived, that girlhood passion, but she had grown much older and
+experienced, and she could not let him see what she felt. But her
+curiosity was keener than ever; in no other man of her acquaintance had
+she felt this intense interest.
+
+"I remember you telling me the other day that your men would have used
+their rifles, had the railroad company attempted to set men to work in the
+cut. I presume you must have given them orders to shoot. I can't
+understand you. You were raised in the East, your parents are wealthy; it
+is presumed they gave you advantages--in fact, you told me they had sent
+you to college. You must have learned respect for the law while there. And
+yet you would have had your men resist forcibly."
+
+"I told you before that I respected the law--so long as the law is just
+and the fellow I'm fighting is governed by it. But I refuse to fight under
+a rule that binds one of my hands, while my opponent sails into me with
+both hands free. I've never been a believer in the doctrine of 'turn the
+other cheek.' We are made with a capacity for feeling, and it boils,
+unrestrained, in me. I never could play the hypocrite; I couldn't say 'no'
+when I thought 'yes' and make anybody believe it. I couldn't lie and evade
+and side-step, even to keep from getting licked. I always told the truth
+and expressed my feelings in language as straight, simple, and direct as I
+could. It wasn't always the discreet way. Perhaps it wasn't always the
+wise way. I won't argue that. But it was the only way I knew. It caused me
+a lot of trouble--I was always in trouble. My record in college would make
+a prize fighter turn green with envy. I'm not proud of what I've made of
+my life. But I haven't changed. I do what my heart prompts me to do, and I
+say what I think, regardless of consequences."
+
+"That would be a very good method--if everybody followed it," said the
+girl. "Unfortunately, it invites enmity. Subtlety will take you farther in
+the world." She was smitten with an impulse, unwise, unconventional. But
+the conventions! The East seemed effete and far. Besides, she spoke
+lightly:
+
+"Let us be perfectly frank, then. I think that perhaps you take yourself
+too seriously. Life is a tragedy to the tragic, a joke to the humorous, a
+drab canvas to the unimaginative. It all depends upon what temperament one
+sees it through. I dare say that I see you differently than you see
+yourself. 'O wad some power the giftie gi'e us to see oursel's as ithers
+see us'," she quoted, and laughed at the queer look in his eyes, for his
+admiration for her had leaped like a living thing at her bubbling spirits,
+and he was, figuratively, forced to place his heel upon it. "I confess it
+seems to me that you take a too tragic view of things," she went on. "You
+are like D'Artagnan, always eager to fly at somebody's throat. Possibly,
+you don't give other people credit for unselfish motives; you are too
+suspicious; and what you call plain talk may seem impertinence to
+others--don't you think? In any event, people don't like to hear the truth
+told about themselves--especially by a big, earnest, sober-faced man who
+seems to speak with conviction, and, perhaps, authority. I think you look
+for trouble, instead of trying to evade it. I think, too," she said,
+looking straight at him, "that you face the world in a too physical
+fashion; that you place too much dependence upon brawn and fire. That,
+following your own method of speaking your mind, is what I think of you. I
+tremble to imagine what you think of me for speaking so plainly."
+
+He laughed, his voice vibrating, and bold passion gleamed in his eyes. He
+looked fairly at her, holding her gaze, compelling it with the intensity
+of his own, and she drew a deep, tremulous breath of understanding. There
+followed a tense, breathless silence. And then--
+
+"You've brought it on yourself," he said. "I love you. You are going to
+marry me--someday. That's what I think of you!"
+
+[Illustration: "YOU ARE GOING TO MARRY ME--SOME DAY. THAT'S
+WHAT I THINK OF YOU!"]
+
+She got to her feet, her cheeks flaming, confused, half-frightened, though
+a fierce exultation surged within her. She had half expected this, half
+dreaded it, and now that it had burst upon her in such volcanic fashion
+she realized that she had not been entirely prepared. She sought refuge in
+banter, facing him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing.
+
+"'Firebrand,'" she said. "The name fits you--Mr. Carson was right. I
+warned you--if you remember--that you placed too much dependence on brawn
+and fire. You are making it very hard for me to see you again."
+
+He had risen too, and stood before her, and he now laughed frankly.
+
+"I told you I couldn't play the hypocrite. I have said what I think. I
+want you. But that doesn't mean that I am going to carry you away to the
+mountains. I've got it off my mind, and I promise not to mention it
+again--until you wish it. But don't forget that some day you are going to
+love me."
+
+"How marvelous," said she, tauntingly, though in her confusion she could
+not meet his gaze, looking downward. "How do you purpose to bring it
+about?"
+
+"By loving you so strongly that you can't help yourself."
+
+"With your confidence--" she began. But he interrupted, laughing:
+
+"We're going to forget it, now," he said. "I promised to show you that
+_Pueblo_, and we'll have just about time enough to make it and back to the
+Bar B before dark."
+
+And they rode away presently, chatting on indifferent subjects. And,
+keeping his promise, he said not another word about his declaration. But
+the girl, stealing glances at him, wondered much--and reached no
+decision.
+
+When they reached the abandoned Indian village, many of its houses still
+standing, he laughed. "That would make a dandy fort."
+
+"Always thinking of fighting," she mocked. But her eyes flashed as she
+looked at him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE SPIRIT OF MANTI
+
+
+The Benham private car had clacked eastward over the rails three weeks
+before, bearing with it as a passenger only the negro autocrat. At the
+last moment, discovering that she could not dissuade Rosalind from her mad
+decision to stay at Blakeley's ranch, Agatha had accompanied her. The
+private car was now returning, bearing the man who had poetically declared
+to his fawning Board of Directors: "Our railroad is the magic wand that
+will make the desert bloom like the rose. We are embarked upon a project,
+gentlemen, so big, so vast, that it makes even your president feel a pulse
+of pride. This project is nothing more nor less than the opening of a
+region of waste country which an all-wise Creator has permitted to slumber
+for ages, for no less purpose than to reserve it to the horny-handed son
+of toil of our glorious country. It will awaken to the clarion call of our
+wealth, our brains, and our genius." He then mentioned Corrigan and the
+Midland grant--another reservation of Providence, which a credulous and
+asinine Congress had bestowed, in fee-simple, upon a certain suave
+gentleman, named Marchmont--and disseminated such other details as a
+servile board of directors need know; and then he concluded with a flowery
+peroration that left his hearers smirking fatuously.
+
+And today J. Chalfant Benham was come to look upon the first fruits of his
+efforts.
+
+As he stepped down from the private car he was greeted by vociferous
+cheers from a jostling and enthusiastic populace--for J. C. had very
+carefully wired the time of his arrival and Corrigan had acted
+accordingly, knowing J. C. well. J. C. was charmed--he said so, later,
+in a speech from a flimsy, temporary stand erected in the middle of the
+street in front of the _Plaza_--and in saying so he merely told the
+truth. For, next to money-making, adulation pleased him most. He would
+have been an able man had he ignored the latter passion. It seared his
+intellect as a pernicious habit blasts the character. It sat on his
+shoulders--extravagantly squared; it shone in his eyes--inviting
+inspection; his lips, curved with smug complacence, betrayed it as,
+sitting in Corrigan's office after the conclusion of the festivities,
+he smiled at the big man.
+
+"Manti is a wonderful town--a _wonderful_ town!" he declared. "It may be
+said that success is lurking just ahead. And much of the credit is due to
+your efforts," he added, generously.
+
+Corrigan murmured a polite disclaimer, and plunged into dry details. J. C.
+had a passion for dry details. For many hours they sat in the office,
+their heads close together. Braman was occasionally called in. Judge
+Lindman was summoned after a time. J. C. shook the Judge's hand warmly and
+then resumed his chair, folding his chubby hands over his corpulent
+stomach.
+
+"Judge Lindman," he said; "you thoroughly understand our position in this
+Midland affair."
+
+The Judge glanced at Corrigan. "Thoroughly."
+
+"No doubt there will be some contests. But the present claimants have no
+legal status. Mr. -- (here J. C. mentioned a name that made the Judge's
+eyes brighten) tells me there will be no hitch. There could not be, of
+course. In the absence of any court record of possible transfers, the
+title to the land, of course, reverts to the Midland Company. As Mr.
+Corrigan has explained to me, he is entirely within his rights, having
+secured the title to the land from Mr. Marchmont, representing the
+Midland. You have no record of any transfers from the Midland to the
+present claimants or their predecessors, have you? There is no such
+record?"
+
+The Judge saw Corrigan's amused grin, and surmised that J. C. was merely
+playing with him.
+
+"No," he said, with some bitterness.
+
+"Then of course you are going to stand with Mr. Corrigan against the
+present claimants?"
+
+"I presume so."
+
+"H'm," said J. C. "If there is any doubt about it, perhaps I had better
+remind you--"
+
+The Judge groaned in agony of spirit. "It won't be necessary to remind
+me."
+
+"So I thought. Well, gentlemen--" J. C. arose "--that will be all for this
+evening."
+
+Thus he dismissed the Judge, who went to his cot behind a partition in the
+courthouse, while Corrigan and J. C. stepped outside and walked slowly
+toward the private car. They lingered at the steps, and presently J. C.
+called and a negro came out with two chairs. J. C. and Corrigan draped
+themselves in the chairs and smoked. Dusk was settling over Manti; lights
+appeared in the windows of the buildings; a medley of noises reached the
+ears of the two men. By day Manti was lively enough, by night it was a
+maelstrom of frenzied action. A hundred cow-ponies were hitched to rails
+that skirted the street in front of store and saloon; cowboys from
+ranches, distant and near, rollicked from building to building, touching
+elbows with men less picturesquely garbed; the strains of crude music
+smote the flat, dead desert air; yells, shouts, laughter filtered through
+the bedlam; an engine, attached to a train of cars on the main track near
+the private car, wheezed steam in preparation for its eastward trip, soon
+to begin.
+
+Benham had solemn thoughts, sitting there, watching.
+
+"That crowd wouldn't have much respect for law. They're living at such a
+pitch that they'd lose their senses entirely if any sudden crisis should
+arise. I'd feel my way carefully, Corrigan--if I were you."
+
+Corrigan laughed deeply. "Don't lose any sleep over it. There are fifty
+deputy marshals in that crowd--and they're heeled. The rear room in the
+bank building is a young arsenal."
+
+Benham started. "How on earth--" he began.
+
+"Law and order," smiled Corrigan. "A telegram did it. The territory wants
+a reputation for safety."
+
+"By the way," said Benham, after a silence; "I _had_ to take that Trevison
+affair out of your hands. We don't want to antagonize the man. He will be
+valuable to us--later."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Carrington, the engineer I sent out here to look over the country before
+we started work, did considerable nosing around Trevison's land while in
+the vicinity. He told me there were unmistakable signs of coal of a good
+quality and enormous quantity. We ought to be able to drive a good bargain
+with Trevison one of these days--if we handle him carefully."
+
+Corrigan frowned and grunted. "His land is included in that of the Midland
+grant. He shall be treated like the others. If that is your only
+objection--"
+
+"It isn't," said Benham. "I have discovered that 'Brand' Trevison is
+really Trevison Brandon, the disgraced son of Orrin Brandon, the
+millionaire."
+
+The darkness hid Corrigan's ugly pout. "How did you discover that?" he
+said, coolly, after a little.
+
+"My daughter mentioned it in one of her letters to me. I confirmed, by
+quizzing Brandon, senior. Brandon is powerful and obstinate. If he should
+discover what our game is he would fight us to the last ditch. The whole
+thing would go to smash, perhaps."
+
+"You didn't tell him about his son being out here?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+"Good!"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That it's my land; that I'm going to take it away from Trevison, father
+or no father. I'm going to break him. That's what I mean!" Corrigan's big
+hands were clenched on the arms of his chair; his eyes gleamed balefully
+in the semi-darkness. J. C. felt a tremor of awed admiration for him. He
+laughed, nervously. "Well," he said, "if you think you can handle it--"
+
+They sat there for a long time, smoking in silence. One thought dominated
+Corrigan's mind: "Three weeks, and exchanging confidences--damn him!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+A discordant note floated out of the medley of sound in palpitating Manti,
+sailed over the ridiculous sky line and smote the ears of the two on the
+platform. The air rocked an instant later with a cheer, loud, pregnant
+with enthusiasm. And then a mass of men, close-packed, undulating, moved
+down the street toward the private car.
+
+Benham's face whitened and he rose from his chair. "Good God!" he said;
+"what's happened?" He felt Corrigan's hand on his shoulder, forcing him
+back into his chair.
+
+"It can't concern us," said the big man; "wait; we'll know pretty soon.
+Something's broke loose."
+
+The two men watched--Benham breathless, wide-eyed; Corrigan with close-set
+lips and out-thrust chin. The mass moved fast. It passed the _Plaza_, far
+up the street, receiving additions each second as men burst out of doors
+and dove to the fringe; and grew in front as other men skittered into it,
+hanging to its edge and adding to the confusion. But Corrigan noted that
+the mass had a point, like a wedge, made by three men who seemed to lead
+it. Something familiar in the stature and carriage of one of the men
+struck Corrigan, and he strained his eyes into the darkness the better to
+see. He could be sure of the identity of the man, presently, and he set
+his jaws tighter and continued to watch, with bitter malignance in his
+gaze, for the man was Trevison. There was no mistaking the broad
+shoulders, the set of the head, the big, bold and confident poise of the
+man. At the point of the wedge he looked what he was--the leader; he
+dominated the crowd; it became plain to Corrigan as the mass moved closer
+that he was intent on something that had aroused the enthusiasm of his
+followers, for there were shouts of: "That's the stuff! Give it to them!
+Run 'em out!"
+
+For an instant as the crowd passed the _Elk_ saloon, its lights revealing
+faces in its glare, Corrigan thought its destination was the private car,
+and his hand went to his hip. It was withdrawn an instant later, though,
+when the leader swerved and marched toward the train on the main track. In
+the light also, Corrigan saw something that gave him a hint of the
+significance of it all. His laugh broke the tension of the moment.
+
+"It's Denver Ed and Poker Charley," he said to Benham. "It's likely
+they've been caught cheating and have been invited to make themselves
+scarce." And he laughed again, with slight contempt, at Benham's sigh of
+relief.
+
+The mass surged around the rear coach of the train. There was some
+laughter, mingled with jeers, and while this was at its height a man broke
+from the mass and walked rapidly toward Corrigan and Benham. It was
+Braman. Corrigan questioned him.
+
+"It's two professional gamblers. They've been fleecing Manti's easy marks
+with great facility. Tonight they had Clay Levins in the back room of the
+_Belmont_. He had about a thousand dollars (the banker looked at Corrigan
+and closed an eye), and they took it away from him. It looked square, and
+Levins didn't kick. Couldn't anyway--he's lying in the back room of the
+_Belmont_ now, paralyzed. I think that somebody told Levins' wife about
+him shooting Marchmont yesterday, and Mrs. Levins likely sent Trevison
+after hubby--knowing hubby's appetite for booze. Levins isn't giving the
+woman a square deal, so far as that is concerned," went on the banker;
+"she and the kids are in want half the time, and I've heard that
+Trevison's helped them out on quite a good many occasions. Anyway,
+Trevison appeared in town this afternoon, looking for Levins. Before he
+found him he heard these two beauties framing up on him. That's the
+result--the two beauties go out. The crowd was for stringing them up, but
+Trevison wouldn't have it."
+
+"Marchmont?" interrupted Benham. "It isn't possible--"
+
+"Why not?" grinned Corrigan. "Yes, sir, the former president of the
+Midland Company was shot to death yesterday for pocket-picking."
+
+"Lord!" said Benham.
+
+"So Levins' wife sent Trevison for hubby," said Corrigan, quietly. "She's
+_that_ thick with Trevison, is she?"
+
+"Get that out of your mind, Jeff," returned the banker, noting Corrigan's
+tone. "Everybody that knows of the case will tell you that everything's
+straight there."
+
+"Well," Corrigan laughed, "I'm glad to hear it."
+
+The train steamed away as they talked, and the crowd began to break up and
+scatter toward the saloons. Before that happened, however, there was a
+great jam around Trevison; he was shaking hands right and left. Voices
+shouted that he was "all there!" As he started away he was forced to shove
+his way through the press around him.
+
+Benham had been watching closely this evidence of Trevison's popularity;
+he linked it with some words that his daughter had written to him
+regarding the man, and as a thought formed in his mind he spoke it.
+
+"I'd reconsider about hooking up with that man Trevison, Corrigan. He's
+one of those fellows that win popularity easily, and it won't do you any
+good to antagonize him."
+
+"That's all right," laughed Corrigan, coldly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FOR THE "KIDDIES"
+
+
+Trevison dropped from Nigger at the dooryard of Levins' cabin, and looked
+with a grim smile at Levins himself lying face downward across the saddle
+on his own pony. He had carried Levins out of the _Belmont_ and had thrown
+him, as he would have thrown a sack of meal, across the saddle, where he
+had lain during the four-mile ride, except during two short intervals in
+which Trevison had lifted him off and laid him flat on the ground, to
+rest. Trevison had meditated, not without a certain wry humor, upon the
+strength and the protracted potency of Manti's whiskey, for not once
+during his home-coming had Levins shown the slightest sign of returning
+consciousness. He was as slack as a meal sack now, as Trevison lifted him
+from the pony's back and let him slip gently to the ground at his feet. A
+few minutes later, Trevison was standing in the doorway of the cabin, his
+burden over his shoulder, the weak glare of light from within the cabin
+stabbing the blackness of the night and revealing him to the white-faced
+woman who had answered his summons.
+
+Her astonishment had been of the mute, agonized kind; her eyes, hollow,
+eloquent with unspoken misery and resignation, would have told Trevison
+that this was not the first time, had he not known from personal
+observation. She stood watching, gulping, shame and mortification bringing
+patches of color into her cheeks, as Trevison carried Levins into a
+bedroom and laid him down, removing his boots. She was standing near the
+door when Trevison came out of the bedroom; she was facing the blackness
+of the desert night--a blacker future, unknowingly--and Trevison halted on
+the threshold of the bedroom door and set his teeth in sympathy. For the
+woman deserved better treatment. He had known her for several years--since
+the time when Levins, working for him, had brought her from a ranch on the
+other side of the Divide, announcing their marriage. It had been a
+different Levins, then, as it was a different wife who stood at the door
+now. She had faded; the inevitable metamorphosis wrought by neglect, worry
+and want, had left its husks--a wan, tired-looking woman of thirty who had
+only her hopes to nourish her soul. There were children, too--if that were
+any consolation. Trevison saw them as he glanced around the cabin. They
+were in another bed; through an archway he could see their chubby faces.
+His lungs filled and his lips straightened.
+
+But he grinned presently, in an effort to bring cheer into the cabin,
+reaching into a pocket and bringing out the money he had recovered for
+Levins.
+
+"There are nearly a thousand dollars here. Two tin-horn gamblers tried to
+take it from Clay, but I headed them off. Tell Clay--"
+
+Mrs. Levins' face whitened; it was more money than she had ever seen at
+one time.
+
+"Clay's?" she interrupted, perplexedly. "Why, where--"
+
+"I haven't the slightest idea--but he had it, they tried to take it away
+from him--it's here now--it belongs to you." He shoved it into her hands
+and stepped back, smiling at the stark wonder and joy in her eyes. He saw
+the joy vanish--concern and haunting worry came into her eyes.
+
+"They told me that Clay shot--killed--a man yesterday. Is it true?" She
+cast a fearing look at the bed where the children lay.
+
+"The damned fools!"
+
+"Then it's true!" She covered her face with her hands, the money in them.
+Then she took the hands away and looked at the money in them, loathingly.
+"Do you think Clay--"
+
+"No!" he said shortly, anticipating. "That couldn't be. For the man Clay
+killed had this money on him. Clay accused him of picking his pocket. Clay
+gave the bartender in the _Plaza_ the number of each bill before he saw
+them after taking the bills out of the pickpocket's clothing. So it can't
+be as you feared."
+
+She murmured incoherently and pressed both hands to her breast. He laughed
+and walked to the door.
+
+"Well, you need it, you and the kiddies. I'm glad to have been of some
+service to you. Tell Clay he owes me something for cartage. If there is
+anything I can do for you and Clay and the kiddies I'd be only too glad."
+
+"Nothing--now," said the woman, gratitude shining from her eyes, mingling
+with a worried gleam. "Oh!" she added, passionately; "if Clay was only
+different! Can't you help him to be strong, Mr. Trevison? Like you? Can't
+you be with him more, to try to keep him straight for the sake of the
+children?"
+
+"Clay's odd, lately," Trevison frowned. "He seems to have changed a lot.
+I'll do what I can, of course." He stepped out of the door and then looked
+back, calling: "I'll put Clay's pony away. Good night." And the darkness
+closed around him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Over at Blakeley's ranch, J. C. Benham had just finished an inspection of
+the interior and had sank into the depths of a comfortable chair facing
+his daughter. Blakeley and his wife had retired, the deal that would place
+the ranch in possession of Benham having been closed. J. C. gazed
+critically at his daughter.
+
+"Like it here, eh?" he said. "Well, you look it." He shook a finger at
+her. "Agatha has been writing to me rather often, lately," he added. There
+followed no answer and J. C. went on, narrowing his eyes at the girl. "She
+tells me that this fellow who calls himself 'Brand' Trevison has proven
+himself a--shall we say, persistent?--escort on your trips of inspection
+around the ranch."
+
+Rosalind's face slowly crimsoned.
+
+"H'm," said Benham.
+
+"I thought Corrigan--" he began. The girl's eyes chilled.
+
+"H'm," said Benham, again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+EXPOSED TO THE SUNLIGHT
+
+
+It was a month before Trevison went to town, again. Only once during that
+time did he see Rosalind Benham, for the Blakeleys had vacated, and goods
+and servants had arrived from the East and needed attention. Rosalind
+presided at the Bar B ranchhouse, under Agatha's chaperonage, and she had
+invited Trevison to visit her whenever the mood struck him. He had been in
+the mood many times, but had found no opportunity, for the various
+activities of range work claimed his attention. After a critical survey of
+Manti and vicinity, J. C. had climbed aboard his private car to be whisked
+to New York, where he reported to his Board of Directors that Manti would
+one day be one of the greatest commercial centers of the West.
+
+Vague rumors of a legal tangle involving the land around Manti had reached
+Trevison's ears, and this morning he had jumped on Nigger, determined to
+run the rumors down. He made a wide swing, following the river, which took
+him miles from his own property and into the enormous basin which one day
+the engineers expected to convert into a mammoth lake from which the
+thirst of many dry acres of land was to be slaked; and halting Nigger near
+the mouth of the gorge, watched the many laborers, directed by various
+grades of bosses, at work building the foundation of the dam. Later, he
+crossed the basin, followed the well-beaten trail up the slope to the
+level, and shortly he was in Hanrahan's saloon across the street from
+Braman's bank, listening to the plaint of Jim Lefingwell, the Circle Cross
+owner, whose ranch was east of town. Lefingwell was big, florid, and
+afflicted with perturbation that was almost painful. So exercised was he
+that he was at times almost incoherent.
+
+"She's boomin', ain't she? Meanin' this man's town, of course. An' a man's
+got a right to cash in on a boom whenever he gits the chance. Well, I'd
+figgered to cash in. I ain't no hawg an' I got savvy enough to perceive
+without the aid of any damn fortune-teller that cattle is done in this
+country--considered as the main question. I've got a thousand acres of
+land--which I paid for in spot cash to Dick Kessler about eight years ago.
+If Dick was here he'd back me up in that. But he ain't here--the doggone
+fool went an' died about four years ago, leavin' me unprotected. Well,
+now, not digressin' any, I gits the idea that I'm goin' to unload
+consid'able of my thousand acres on the sufferin' fools that's yearnin' to
+come into this country an' work their heads off raisin' alfalfa an' hawgs,
+an' cabbages an' sons with Pick-a-dilly collars to be eddicated East an'
+come back home some day an' lift the mortgage from the old
+homestead--which job they always falls down on--findin' it more to their
+likin' to mortgage their souls to buy jew'l'ry for fast wimmin. Well, not
+digressin' any, I run a-foul of a guy last week which was dead set on
+investin' in ten acres of my land, skirtin' one of the irrigation ditches
+which they're figgerin' on puttin' in. The price I wanted was a heap
+satisfyin' to the guy. But he suggests that before he forks over the coin
+we go down to the courthouse an' muss up the records to see if my title is
+clear. Well, not digressin' any, she ain't! She ain't even nowheres clear
+a-tall--she ain't even there! She's wiped off, slick an' clean! There
+ain't a damned line to show that I ever bought my land from Dick Kessler,
+an' there ain't nothin' on no record to show that Dick Kessler ever owned
+it! What in hell do you think of that?
+
+"Now, not digressin' any," he went on as Trevison essayed to speak; "that
+ain't the worst of it. While I was in there, talkin' to Judge Lindman,
+this here big guy that you fit with--Corrigan--comes in. I gathers from
+the trend of his remarks that I never had a legal title to my land--that
+it belongs to the guy which bought it from the Midland Company--which is
+him. Now what in hell do you think of that?"
+
+"I knew Dick Kessler," said Trevison, soberly. "He was honest."
+
+"Square as a dollar!" violently affirmed Lefingwell.
+
+"It's too bad," sympathized Trevison. "That places you in a mighty bad
+fix. If there's anything I can do for you, why--"
+
+"Mr. 'Brand' Trevison?" said a voice at Trevison's elbow. Trevison turned,
+to see a short, heavily built man smiling mildly at him.
+
+"I'm a deputy from Judge Lindman's court," announced the man. "I've got a
+summons for you. Saw you coming in here--saves me a trip to your place."
+He shoved a paper into Trevison's hands, grinned, and went out. For an
+instant Trevison stood, looking after the man, wondering how, since the
+man was a stranger to him, he had recognized him--and then he opened the
+paper to discover that he was ordered to appear before Judge Lindman the
+following day to show cause why he should not be evicted from certain
+described property held unlawfully by him. The name, Jefferson Corrigan,
+appeared as plaintiff in the action.
+
+Lefingwell was watching Trevison's face closely, and when he saw it
+whiten, he muttered, understandingly:
+
+"You've got it, too, eh?"
+
+"Yes." Trevison shoved the paper into a pocket. "Looks like you're not
+going to be skinned alone, Lefingwell. Well, so-long; I'll see you
+later."
+
+He strode out, leaving Lefingwell slightly stunned over his abrupt
+leave-taking. A minute later he was in the squatty frame courthouse,
+towering above Judge Lindman, who had been seated at his desk and who had
+risen at his entrance.
+
+Trevison shoved the summons under Lindman's nose.
+
+"I just got this," he said. "What does it mean?"
+
+"It is perfectly understandable," the Judge smiled with forced affability.
+"The plaintiff, Mr. Jefferson Corrigan, is a claimant to the title of the
+land now held by you."
+
+"Corrigan can have no claim on my land; I bought it five years ago from
+old Buck Peters. He got it from a man named Taylor. Corrigan is
+bluffing."
+
+The Judge coughed and dropped his gaze from the belligerent eyes of the
+young man. "That will be determined in court," he said. "The entire land
+transactions in this county, covering a period of twenty-five years, are
+recorded in that book." And the Judge indicated a ledger on his desk.
+
+"I'll take a look at it." Trevison reached for the ledger, seized it, the
+Judge protesting, half-heartedly, though with the judicial dignity that
+had become habitual from long service in his profession.
+
+"This is a high-handed proceeding, young man. You are in contempt of
+court!" The Judge tried, but could not make his voice ring sincerely. It
+seemed to him that this vigorous, clear-eyed young man could see the guilt
+that he was trying to hide.
+
+Trevison laughed grimly, holding the Judge off with one hand while he
+searched the pages of the book, leaning over the desk. He presently closed
+the book with a bang and faced the Judge, breathing heavily, his muscles
+rigid, his eyes cold and glittering.
+
+"There's trickery here!" He took the ledger up and slammed it down on the
+desk again, his voice vibrating. "Judge Lindman, this isn't a true
+record--it is not the original record! I saw the original record five
+years ago, when I went personally to Dry Bottom with Buck Peters to have
+my deed recorded! This record is a fake--it has been substituted for the
+original! I demand that you stay proceedings in this matter until a search
+can be made for the original record!"
+
+"This is the original record." Again the Judge tried to make his voice
+ring sincerely, and again he failed. His one mistake had not hardened him
+and judicial dignity could not help him to conceal his guilty knowledge.
+He winced as he felt Trevison's burning gaze on him, and could not meet
+the young man's eyes, boring like metal points into his consciousness.
+Trevison sprang forward and seized him by the shoulders.
+
+"By God--you know it isn't the original!"
+
+The Judge succeeded in meeting Trevison's eyes, but his age, his
+vacillating will, his guilt, could not combat the overpowering force and
+virility of this volcanic youth, and his gaze shifted and fell.
+
+He heard Trevison catch his breath--shrilling it into his lungs in one
+great sob--and then he stood, white and shaking, beside the desk, looking
+at Trevison as the young man went out of the door--a laugh on his lips,
+mirthless, bitter, portending trouble and violence.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan was sitting at his desk in the bank building when Trevison
+entered the front door. The big man seemed to have been expecting his
+visitor, for just before the latter appeared at the door Corrigan took a
+pistol from a pocket and laid it on the desk beside him, placing a sheet
+of paper over it. He swung slowly around and faced Trevison, cold interest
+in his gaze. He nodded shortly as Trevison's eyes met his.
+
+In a dozen long strides Trevison was at his side. The young man was pale,
+his lips were set, he was breathing fast, his nostrils were dilated--he
+was at that pitch of excitement in which a word, a look or a movement
+brings on action, instantaneous, unrecking of consequences. But he
+exercised repression that made the atmosphere of the room tingle with
+tension of the sort that precedes the clash of mighty forces--he
+deliberately sat on one corner of Corrigan's desk, one leg dangling, the
+other resting on the floor, one hand resting on the idle leg, his body
+bent, his shoulders drooping a little forward. His voice was dry and
+light--Patrick Carson would have said his grin was tiger-like.
+
+"So that's the kind of a whelp you are!" he said.
+
+Corrigan caught his breath; his hands clenched, his face reddened darkly.
+He shot a quick glance at the sheet of paper under which he had placed the
+pistol. Trevison interpreted it, brushed the paper aside, disclosing the
+weapon. His lips curled; he took the pistol, "broke" it, tossed cartridges
+and weapon into a corner of the desk and laughed lowly.
+
+"So you were expecting me," he said. "Well, I'm here. You want my land,
+eh?"
+
+"I want the land that I'm entitled to under the terms of my purchase--the
+original Midland grant, consisting of one-hundred thousand acres. It
+belongs to me, and I mean to have it!"
+
+"You're a liar, Corrigan," said the young man, holding the other's gaze
+coldly; "you're a lying, sneaking crook. You have no claim to the land,
+and you know it!"
+
+Corrigan smiled stiffly. "The record of the deal I made with Jim Marchmont
+years before any of you people usurped the property is in my pocket at
+this minute. The court, here, will uphold it."
+
+Trevison narrowed his eyes at the big man and laughed, bitter humor in the
+sound. It was as though he had laughed to keep his rage from leaping,
+naked and murderous, into this discussion.
+
+"It takes nerve, Corrigan, to do what you are attempting; it does, by
+Heaven--sheer, brazen gall! It's been done, though, by little,
+pettifogging shysters, by piking real-estate crooks--thousands of parcels
+of property scattered all over the United States have been filched in that
+manner. But a hundred-thousand acres! It's the biggest steal that ever has
+been attempted, to my knowledge, short of a Government grab, and your
+imagination does you credit. It's easy to see what's been done. You've got
+a fake title from Marchmont, antedating ours; you've got a crooked judge
+here, to befuddle the thing with legal technicalities; you've got the
+money, the power, the greed, and the cold-blooded determination. But I
+don't think you understand what you're up against--do you? Nearly every
+man who owns this land that you want has worked hard for it. It's been
+bought with work, man--work and lonesomeness and blood--and souls. And now
+you want to sweep it all away with one stroke. You want to step in here
+and reap the benefit; you want to send us out of here, beggars." His voice
+leaped from its repression; it now betrayed the passion that was consuming
+him; it came through his teeth: "You can't hand me that sort of a raw
+deal, Corrigan, and make me like it. Understand that, right now. You're
+bucking the wrong man. You can drag the courts into it; you can wriggle
+around a thousand legal corners, but damn you, you can't avert what's
+bound to come if you don't lay off this deal, and that's a fight!" He
+laughed, full-throated, his voice vibrating from the strength of the
+passion that blazed in his eyes. He revealed, for an instant to Corrigan
+the wild, reckless untamed youth that knew no law save his own impulses,
+and the big man's eyes widened with the revelation, though he gave no
+other sign. He leaned back in his chair, smiling coldly, idly flecking a
+bit of ash from his shirt where it had fallen from his cigar.
+
+"I am prepared for a fight. You'll get plenty of it before you're
+through--if you don't lie down and be good." There was malice in his look,
+complacent consciousness of his power. More, there was an impulse to
+reveal to this young man whom he intended to ruin, at least one of the
+motives that was driving him. He yielded to the impulse.
+
+"I'm going to tell you something. I think I would have let you out of this
+deal, if you hadn't been so fresh. But you made a grand-stand play before
+the girl I am going to marry. You showed off your horse to make a bid for
+her favor. You paraded before her window in the car to attract her
+attention. I saw you. You rode me down. You'll get no mercy. I'm going to
+break you. I'm going to send you back to your father, Brandon, senior, in
+worse condition than when you left, ten years ago." He sneered as Trevison
+started and stepped on the floor, rigid.
+
+"How did you recognize me?" Curiosity had dulled the young man's passion;
+his tone was hoarse.
+
+"How?" Corrigan laughed, mockingly. "Did you think you could repose any
+confidence in a woman you have known only about a month? Did you think she
+wouldn't tell me--her promised husband? She has told me--everything that
+she succeeded in getting out of you. She is heart and soul with me in this
+deal. She is ambitious. Do you think she would hesitate to sacrifice a
+clod-hopper like you? She's very clever, Trevison; she's deep, and more
+than a match for you in wits. Fight, if you like, you'll get no sympathy
+there."
+
+Trevison's faith in Miss Benham had received a shock; Corrigan's words had
+not killed it, however.
+
+"You're a liar!" he said.
+
+Corrigan flushed, but smiled icily. "How many people know that you have
+coal on your land, Trevison?"
+
+He saw Trevison's hands clench, and he laughed in grim amusement. It
+pleased him to see his enemy writhe and squirm before him; the grimness
+came because of a mental picture, in his mind at this minute, of Trevison
+confiding in the girl. He looked up, the smile freezing on his lips, for
+within a foot of his chest was the muzzle of Trevison's pistol. He saw the
+trigger finger contracting; saw Trevison's free hand clenched, the muscles
+corded and knotted--he felt the breathless, strained, unreal calm that
+precedes tragedy, grim and swift. He slowly stiffened, but did not shrink
+an inch. It took him seconds to raise his gaze to Trevison's face, and
+then he caught his breath quickly and smiled with straight lips.
+
+"No; you won't do it, Trevison," he said, slowly; "you're not that kind."
+He deliberately swung around in the chair and drew another cigar from a
+box on the desk top, lit it and leaned back, again facing the pistol.
+
+Trevison restored the pistol to the holster, brushing a hand uncertainly
+over his eyes as though to clear his mental vision, for the shock that had
+come with the revelation of Miss Benham's duplicity had made his brain
+reel with a lust to kill. He laughed hollowly. His voice came cold and
+hard:
+
+"You're right--it wouldn't do. It would be plain murder, and I'm not quite
+up to that. You know your men, don't you--you coyote's whelp! You know
+I'll fight fair. You'll do yours underhandedly. Get up! There's your gun!
+Load it! Let's see if you've got the nerve to face a gun, with one in your
+own hand!"
+
+"I'll do my fighting in my own way." Corrigan's eyes kindled, but he did
+not move. Trevison made a gesture of contempt, and wheeled, to go. As he
+turned he caught a glimpse of a hand holding a pistol, as it vanished into
+a narrow crevice between a jamb and the door that led to the rear room. He
+drew his own weapon with a single movement, and swung around to Corrigan,
+his muscles tensed, his eyes alert and chill with menace.
+
+"I'll bore you if you wink an eyelash!" he warned, in a whisper.
+
+He leaped, with the words, to the door, lunging against it, sending it
+crashing back so that it smashed against the wall, overbalancing some
+boxes that reposed on a shelf and sending them clattering. He stood in the
+opening, braced for another leap, tall, big, his muscles swelling and
+rippling, recklessly eager. Against the partition, which was still
+swaying, his arms outstretched, a pistol in one hand, trying to crowd
+still farther back to escape the searching glance of Trevison's eyes, was
+Braman.
+
+He had overheard Trevison's tense whisper to Corrigan. The cold savagery
+in it had paralyzed him, and he gasped as Trevison's eyes found him, and
+the pistol that he tried to raise dangled futilely from his nerveless
+fingers. It thudded heavily upon the boards of the floor an instant later,
+a shriek of fear mingling with the sound as he went down in a heap from a
+vicious, deadening blow from Trevison's fist.
+
+Trevison's leap upon Braman had been swift; he was back in the doorway
+instantly, looking at Corrigan, his eyes ablaze with rage, wild, reckless,
+bitter. He laughed--the sound of it brought a grayish pallor to Corrigan's
+face.
+
+"That explains your nerve!" he taunted. "It's a frame-up. You sent the
+deputy after me--pointed me out when I went into Hanrahan's! That's how he
+knew me! You knew I'd come in here to have it out with you, and you
+figured to have Braman shoot me when my back was turned! Ha, ha!" He swung
+his pistol on Corrigan; the big man gripped the arms of his chair and sat
+rigid, staring, motionless. For an instant there was no sound. And then
+Trevison laughed again.
+
+"Bah!" he said; "I can't use your methods! You're safe so long as you
+don't move." He laughed again as he looked down at the banker. Reaching
+down, he grasped the inert man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him
+through the door, out into the banking room, past Corrigan, who watched
+him wonderingly and to the front, there he dropped him and turning,
+answered the question that he saw shining in Corrigan's eyes:
+
+"I don't work in the dark! We'll take this case out into the sunlight, so
+the whole town can have a look at it!"
+
+He stooped swiftly, grasped Braman around the middle, swung him aloft and
+hurled him through the window, into the street, the glass, shattered,
+clashing and jangling around him. He turned to Corrigan, laughing lowly:
+
+"Get up. Manti will want to know. I'm going to do the talking!"
+
+He forced Corrigan to the front door, and stood on the threshold behind
+him, silent, watching.
+
+A hundred doorways were vomiting men. The crash of glass had carried far,
+and visions of a bank robbery filled many brains as their owners raced
+toward the doorway where Trevison stood, the muzzle of his pistol jammed
+firmly against Corrigan's back.
+
+The crowd gathered, in the manner peculiar to such scenes, coming from all
+directions and converging at one point, massing densely in front of the
+bank building, surrounding the fallen banker, pushing, jostling,
+straining, craning necks for better views, eager-voiced, curious.
+
+No one touched Braman. On the contrary, there were many in the front
+fringe that braced their bodies against the crush, shoving backward,
+crying that a man was hurt and needed breathing space. They were unheeded,
+and when the banker presently recovered consciousness he was lifted to his
+feet and stood, pressed close to the building, swaying dizzily, pale, weak
+and shaken.
+
+Word had gone through the crowd that it was not a robbery, for there were
+many there who knew Trevison; they shouted greetings to him, and he
+answered them, standing back of Corrigan, grim and somber.
+
+Foremost in the crowd was Mullarky, who on another day had seen a fight at
+this same spot. He had taken a stand directly in front of the door of the
+bank, and had been using his eyes and his wits rapidly since his coming.
+And when two or three men from the crowd edged forward and tried to push
+their way to Corrigan, Mullarky drew a pistol, leaped to the door landing
+beside Trevison and trained his weapon, on them.
+
+"Stand back, or I'll plug you, sure as I'm a foot high! There's hell to
+pay here, an' me friend gets a square deal--whatever he's done!"
+
+"Right!" came other voices from various points in the crowd; "a square
+deal--no interference!"
+
+Judge Lindman came out into the street, urged by curiosity. He had stepped
+down from the doorway of the courthouse and had instantly been carried
+with the crowd to a point directly in front of Corrigan and Trevison,
+where he stood, bare-headed, pale, watching silently. Corrigan saw him,
+and smiled faintly at him. The easterner's eye sought out several faces in
+the crowd near him, and when he finally caught the gaze of a certain
+individual who had been eyeing him inquiringly for some moments, he slowly
+closed an eye and moved his head slightly toward the rear of the building.
+Instantly the man whistled shrilly with his fingers, as though to summon
+someone far down the street, and slipping around the edge of the crowd
+made his way around to the rear of the bank building, where he was joined
+presently by other men, roughly garbed, who carried pistols. One of them
+climbed in through a window, opened the door, and the others--numbering
+now twenty-five or thirty, dove into the room.
+
+Out in front a silence had fallen. Trevison had lifted a hand and the
+crowd strained its ears to hear.
+
+"I've caught a crook!" declared Trevison, the frenzy of fight still
+surging through his veins. "He's not a cheap crook--I give him credit for
+that. All he wants to do is to steal the whole county. He'll do it, too,
+if we don't head him off. I'll tell you more about him in a minute.
+There's another of his stripe." He pointed to Braman, who cringed. "I
+threw him out through the window, where the sunlight could shine on him.
+He tried to shoot me in the back--the big crook here, framed up on me. I
+want you all to know what you're up against. They're after all the land in
+this section; they've clouded every title. It's a raw, dirty deal. I see
+now, why they haven't sold a foot of the land they own here; why they've
+shoved the cost of leases up until it's ruination to pay them. They're
+land thieves, commercial pirates. They're going to euchre everybody out
+of--"
+
+Trevison caught a gasp from the crowd--concerted, sudden. He saw the mass
+sway in unison, stiffen, stand rigid; and he turned his head quickly, to
+see the door behind him, and the broken window through which he had thrown
+Braman--the break running the entire width of the building--filled with
+men armed with rifles.
+
+He divined the situation, sensed his danger--the danger that faced the
+crowd should one of its members make a hostile movement.
+
+"Steady there, boys!" he shouted. "Don't start anything. These men are
+here through prearrangement--it's another frame-up. Keep your guns out of
+sight!" He turned, to see Corrigan grinning contemptuously at him. He met
+the look with naked exultation and triumph.
+
+"Got your body-guard within call, eh?" he jeered. "You need one. You've
+cut me short, all right; but I've said enough to start a fire that will
+rage through this part of the country until every damned thief is burned
+out! You've selected the wrong man for a victim, Corrigan."
+
+He stepped down into the street, sheathing his pistol. He heard Corrigan's
+voice, calling after him, saying:
+
+"Grand-stand play again!"
+
+Trevison turned; the gaze of the two men met, held, their hatred glowing
+bitter in their eyes; the gaze broke, like two sharp blades rasping apart,
+and Corrigan turned to his deputies, scowling; while Trevison pushed his
+way through the crowd.
+
+Five minutes later, while Corrigan was talking with the deputies and
+Braman in the rear room of the bank building, Trevison was standing in the
+courthouse talking with Judge Lindman. The Judge stared out into the
+street at some members of the crowd that still lingered.
+
+"This town will be a volcano of lawlessness if it doesn't get a square
+deal from you, Lindman," said Trevison. "You have seen what a mob looks
+like. You're the representative of justice here, and if we don't get
+justice we'll come and hang you in spite of a thousand deputies! Remember
+that!"
+
+He stalked out, leaving behind him a white-faced, trembling old man who
+was facing a crisis which made the future look very black and dismal. He
+was wondering if, after all, hanging wouldn't be better than the sunlight
+shining on a deed which each day he regretted more than on the preceding
+day. And Trevison, riding Nigger out of town, was estimating the probable
+effect of his crowd-drawing action upon Judge Lindman, and considering
+bitterly the perfidy of the woman who had cleverly drawn him on, to betray
+him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+ANOTHER LETTER
+
+
+That afternoon, Corrigan rode to the Bar B. The ranchhouse was of the
+better class, big, imposing, well-kept, with a wide, roofed porch running
+across the front and partly around both sides. It stood in a grove of
+fir-balsam and cottonwood, on a slight eminence, and could be seen for
+miles from the undulating trail that led to Manti. Corrigan arrived
+shortly after noon, to find Rosalind gone, for a ride, Agatha told him,
+after she had greeted him at the edge of the porch.
+
+Agatha had not been pleased over Rosalind's rides with Trevison as a
+companion. She was loyal to her brother, and she did not admire the bold
+recklessness that shone so frankly and unmistakably in Trevison's eyes.
+Had she been Rosalind she would have preferred the big, sleek,
+well-groomed man of affairs who had called today. And because of her
+preference for Corrigan, she sat long on the porch with him and told him
+many things--things that darkened the big man's face. And when, as they
+were talking, Rosalind came, Agatha discreetly retired, leaving the two
+alone.
+
+For a time after the coming of Rosalind, Corrigan sat in a big rocking
+chair, looking thoughtfully down the Manti trail, listening to the girl
+talk of the country, picturing her on a distant day--not too distant,
+either, for he meant to press his suit--sitting beside him on the porch of
+another house that he meant to build when he had achieved his goal. These
+thoughts thrilled him as they had never thrilled him until the entrance of
+Trevison into his scheme of things. He had been sure of her then. And now
+the knowledge that he had a rival, filled him with a thousand emotions,
+the most disturbing of which was jealousy. The rage in him was deep and
+malignant as he coupled the mental pictures of his imagination with the
+material record of Rosalind's movements with his rival, as related by
+Agatha. It was not his way to procrastinate; he meant to exert every force
+at his command, quickly, resistlessly, to destroy Trevison, to blacken him
+and damn him, in the eyes of the girl who sat beside him. But he knew that
+in the girl's presence he must be wise and subtle.
+
+"It's a great country, isn't it?" he said, his eyes on the broad reaches
+of plain, green-brown in the shimmering sunlight. "Look at it--almost as
+big as some of the Old-world states! It's a wonderful country. I feel like
+a feudal baron, with the destinies of an important principality in the
+clutch of my hand!"
+
+"Yes; it must give one a feeling of great responsibility to know that one
+has an important part in the development of a section like this."
+
+He laughed, deep in his throat, at the awe in her voice. "I ought to have
+seen its possibilities years ago--I should have been out here, preparing
+for this. But when I bought the land I had no idea it would one day be so
+valuable."
+
+"Bought it?"
+
+"A hundred thousand acres of it. I got it very cheap." He told her about
+the Midland grant and his purchase from Marchmont.
+
+"I never heard of that before!" she told him.
+
+"It wasn't generally known. In fact, it was apparently generally
+considered that the land had been sold by the Midland Company to various
+people--in small parcels. Unscrupulous agents engineered the sales, I
+suppose. But the fact is that I made the purchase from the Midland Company
+years ago--largely as a personal favor to Jim Marchmont, who needed money
+badly. And a great many of the ranch-owners around here really have no
+title to their land, and will have to give it up."
+
+She breathed deeply. "That will be a great disappointment to them, now
+that there exists the probability of a great advance in the value of the
+land."
+
+"That was the owners' lookout. A purchaser should see that his deed is
+clear before closing a deal."
+
+"What owners will be affected?" She spoke with a slight breathlessness.
+
+"Many." He named some of them, leaving Trevison to the last, and then
+watching her furtively out of the corners of his eyes and noting, with
+straightened lips, the quick gasp she gave. She said nothing; she was
+thinking of the great light that had been in Trevison's eyes on the day he
+had told her of his ten years of exile; she could remember his words, they
+had been vivid fixtures in her mind ever since: "I own five thousand
+acres, and about a thousand acres of it is the best coal land in the
+United States. I wouldn't sell it for love or money, for when your father
+gets his railroad running, I'm going to cash in on ten of the leanest and
+hardest and lonesomest years that any man ever put in."
+
+How hard it would be for him to give it all up; to acknowledge defeat, to
+feel those ten wasted years behind him, empty, unproductive; full of
+shattered hopes and dreams changed to nightmares! She sat, white of face,
+gripping the arms of her chair, feeling a great, throbbing sympathy for
+him.
+
+"You will take it all?"
+
+"He will still hold one hundred and sixty acres--the quarter-section
+granted him by the government, which he has undoubtedly proved on."
+
+"Why--" she began, and paused, for to go further would be to inject her
+personal affairs into the conversation.
+
+"Trevison is an evil in the country," he went on, speaking in a judicial
+manner, but watching her narrowly. "It is men like him who retard
+civilization. He opposes law and order--defies them. It is a shock, I
+know, to learn that the title to property that you have regarded as your
+own for years, is in jeopardy. But still, a man can play the man and not
+yield to lawless impulses."
+
+"What has happened?" She spoke breathlessly, for something in Corrigan's
+voice warned her.
+
+"Very little--from Trevison's viewpoint, I suppose," he laughed. "He came
+into my office this morning, after being served with a summons from Judge
+Lindman's court in regard to the title of his land, and tried to kill me.
+Failing in that, he knocked poor, inoffensive little Braman down--who had
+interfered in my behalf--and threw him bodily through the front window of
+the building, glass and all. It's lucky for him that Braman wasn't hurt.
+After that he tried to incite a riot, which Judge Lindman nipped in the
+bud by sending a number of deputies, armed with rifles, to the scene. It
+was a wonderful exhibition of outlawry. I was very sorry to have it
+happen, and any more such outbreaks will result in Trevison's being
+jailed--if not worse."
+
+"My God!" she panted, in a whisper, and became lost in deep thought.
+
+They sat for a time, without speaking. She studied the profile of the man
+and compared its reposeful strength with that of the man who had ridden
+with her many times since her coming to Blakeley's. The turbulent spirit
+of Trevison awed her now, frightened her--she feared for his future. But
+she pitied him; the sympathy that gripped her made icy shivers run over
+her.
+
+"From what I understand, Trevison has always been a disturber," resumed
+Corrigan. "He disgraced himself at college, and afterwards--to such an
+extent that his father cut him off. He hasn't changed, apparently; he is
+still doing the same old tricks. He had some sort of a love affair before
+coming West, your father told me. God help the girl who marries him!"
+
+The girl flushed at the last sentence; she replied to the preceding one:
+
+"Yes. Hester Keyes threw him over, after he broke with his father."
+
+She did not see Corrigan's eyes quicken, for she was wondering if, after
+all, Hester Keyes had not acted wisely in breaking with Trevison.
+Certainly, Hester had been in a position to know him better than some of
+those critics who had found fault with her for her action--herself, for
+instance. She sighed, for the memory of her ideal was dimming. A figure
+that represented violence and bloodshed had come in its place.
+
+"Hester Keyes," said Corrigan, musingly. "Did she marry a fellow named
+Harvey--afterwards? Winslow Harvey, if I remember rightly. He died soon
+after?"
+
+"Yes--do you know her?"
+
+"Slightly." Corrigan laughed. "I knew her father. Well, well. So Trevison
+worshiped there, did he? Was he badly hurt--do you know?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Well," said Corrigan, getting up, and speaking lightly, as though
+dismissing the subject from his mind; "I presume he was--and still is, for
+that matter. A person never forgets the first love." He smiled at her.
+"Won't you go with me for a short ride?"
+
+The ride was taken, but a disturbing question lingered in Rosalind's mind
+throughout, and would not be solved. Had Trevison forgotten Hester Keyes?
+Did he think of her as--as--well, as she, herself, sometimes thought of
+Trevison--as she thought of him now--with a haunting tenderness that made
+his faults recede, as the shadows vanish before the sunshine?
+
+What Corrigan thought was expressed in a satisfied chuckle, as later, he
+loped his horse toward Manti. That night he wrote a letter and sent it
+East. It was addressed to Mrs. Hester Harvey, and was subscribed: "Your
+old friend, Jeff."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A RUMBLE OF WAR
+
+
+The train that carried Corrigan's letter eastward bore, among its few
+other passengers, a young man with a jaw set like a steel trap, who leaned
+forward in his seat, gripping the back of the seat in front of him; an
+eager, smoldering light in his eyes, who rose at each stop the train made
+and glared belligerently and intolerantly at the coach ends, muttering
+guttural anathemas at the necessity for delays. The spirit of battle was
+personified in him; it sat on his squared shoulders; it was in the thrust
+of his chin, stuck out as though to receive blows, which his rippling
+muscles would be eager to return. Two other passengers in the coach
+watched him warily, and once, when he got up and walked to the front of
+the coach, opening the door and looking out, to let in the roar and whir
+and the clatter, one of the passengers remarked to the other: "That guy is
+in a temper where murder would come easy to him."
+
+The train left Manti at nine o'clock in the evening. At midnight it pulled
+up at the little frame station in Dry Bottom and the young man leaped off
+and strode rapidly away into the darkness of the desert town. A little
+later, J. Blackstone Graney, attorney at law, and former Judge of the
+United States District Court at Dry Bottom, heard a loud hammering on the
+door of his residence at the outskirts of town. He got up, with a grunt of
+resentment for all heavy-fisted fools abroad on midnight errands, and went
+downstairs to admit a grim-faced stranger who looked positively
+bloodthirsty to the Judge, under the nervous tension of his midnight
+awakening.
+
+"I'm 'Brand' Trevison, owner of the Diamond K ranch, near Manti," said the
+stranger, with blunt sharpness that made the Judge blink. "I've a case on
+in the Manti court at ten o'clock tomorrow--today," he corrected. "They
+are going to try to swindle me out of my land, and I've got to have a
+lawyer--a real one. I could have got half a dozen in Manti--such as they
+are--but I want somebody who is wise in the law, and with the sort of
+honor that money and power can't blast--I want you!"
+
+Judge Graney looked sharply at his visitor, and smiled. "You are evidently
+desperately harried. Sit down and tell me about your case." He waved to a
+chair and Trevison dropped into it, sitting on its edge. The Judge took
+another, and with the kerosene lamp between them on a table, Trevison
+related what had occurred during the previous morning in Manti. When he
+concluded, the Judge's face was serious.
+
+"If what you say is true, it is a very awkward, not to say suspicious,
+situation. Being the only lawyer in Dry Bottom, until the coming of Judge
+Lindman, I have had occasion many times to consult the record you speak
+of, and if my memory serves me well, I have noted several times--quite
+casually, of course, since I have never been directly concerned with the
+records of the land in your vicinity--that several transfers of title to
+the original Midland grant have been recorded. Your deed would show, of
+course, the date of your purchase from Buck Peters, and we shall, perhaps,
+be able to determine the authenticity of the present record in that
+manner. But if, as you believe, the records have been tampered with, we
+are facing a long, hard legal battle which may or may not result in an
+ultimate victory for us--depending upon the power behind the interests
+opposed to you."
+
+"I'll fight them to the Supreme Court of the United States!" declared
+Trevison. "I'll fight them with the law or without it!"
+
+"I know it," said Graney, with a shrewd glance at the other's grim face.
+"But be careful not to do anything that will jeopardize your liberty. If
+those men are what you think they are, they would be only too glad to have
+you break some law that would give them an excuse to jail you. You
+couldn't do much fighting then, you know." He got up. "There's a train out
+of here in about an hour--we'll take it."
+
+About six o'clock that morning the two men stepped off the train at Manti.
+Graney went directly to a hotel, to wash and breakfast, while Trevison, a
+little tired and hollow-eyed from loss of sleep and excitement, and with a
+two days' growth of beard on his face, which made him look worse than he
+actually felt, sought the livery stable where he had left Nigger the night
+before, mounted the animal and rode rapidly out of town toward the Diamond
+K. He took a trail that led through the cut where on another morning he
+had startled the laborers by riding down the wall--Nigger eating up the
+ground with long, sure, swift strides--passing Pat Carson and his men at a
+point on the level about a quarter of a mile beyond the cut. He waved a
+hand to Carson as he flashed by, and something in his manner caused Carson
+to remark to the engineer of the dinky engine: "Somethin's up wid Trevison
+ag'in, Murph--he's got a domned mean look in his eye. I'm the onluckiest
+son-av-a-gun in the worruld, Murph! First I miss seein' this fire-eater
+bate the face off the big ilephant, Corrigan, an' yisterday I was
+figgerin' on goin' to town--but didn't; an' I miss seein' that little
+whiffet of a Braman flyin' through the windy. Do ye's know that there's a
+feelin' ag'in Corrigan an' the railroad in town, an' thot this mon
+Trevison is the fuse that wud bust the boom av discontint. I'm beginnin'
+to feel a little excited meself. Now what do ye suppose that gang av min
+wid Winchesters was doin', comin' from thot direction this mornin'?" He
+pointed toward the trail that Trevison was riding. "An' that big stiff,
+Corrigan, wid thim!"
+
+Trevison got the answer to this query the minute he reached the Diamond K
+ranchhouse. His foreman came running to him, pale, disgusted, his voice
+snapping like a whip:
+
+"They've busted your desk an' rifled it. Twenty guys who said they was
+deputies from the court in Manti, an' Corrigan. I was here alone,
+watchin', as you told me, but couldn't move a finger--damn 'em!"
+
+Trevison dismounted and ran into the house. The room that he used as an
+office was in a state of disorder. Papers, books, littered the floor. It
+was evident that a thorough search had been made--for something. Trevison
+darted to the desk and ran a hand into the pigeonhole in which he kept the
+deed which he had come for. The hand came out, empty. He sprang to the
+door of a small closet where, in a box that contained some ammunition that
+he kept for the use of his men, he had placed the money that Rosalind
+Benham had brought to him. The money was not there. He walked to the
+center of the room and stood for an instant, surveying the mass of litter
+around him, reeling, rage-drunken, murder in his heart. Barkwell, the
+foreman, watching him, drew great, long breaths of sympathy and
+excitement.
+
+"Shall I get the boys an' go after them damn sneaks?" he questioned, his
+voice tremulous. "We'll clean 'em out--smoke 'em out of the county!" he
+threatened. He started for the door.
+
+"Wait!" Trevison had conquered the first surge of passion; his grin was
+cold and bitter as he crossed glances with his foreman. "Don't do
+anything--yet. I'm going to play the peace string out. If it doesn't work,
+why then--" He tapped his pistol holster significantly.
+
+"You get a few of the boys and stay here with them. It isn't probable that
+they'll try anything like that again, because they've got what they
+wanted. But if they happen to come again, hold them until I come. I'm
+going to court."
+
+Later, in Manti, he was sitting opposite Graney in a room in the hotel to
+which the Judge had gone.
+
+"H'm," said the latter, compressing his lips; "that's sharp practice. They
+are not wasting any time."
+
+"Was it legal?"
+
+"The law is elastic--some judges stretch it more than others. A
+search-warrant and a writ of attachment probably did the business in this
+case. What I can't understand is why Judge Lindman issued the writ at
+all--if he did so. You are the defendant, and you certainly would have
+brought the deed into court as a means of proving your case."
+
+Trevison had mentioned the missing money, though he did not think it
+important to explain where it had come from. And Judge Graney did not ask
+him. But when court opened at the appointed time, with a dignity which was
+a mockery to Trevison, and Judge Graney had explained that he had come to
+represent the defendant in the action, he mildly inquired the reason for
+the forcible entry into his client's house, explaining also that since the
+defendant was required to prove his case it was optional with him whether
+or not the deed be brought into court at all.
+
+Corrigan had been on time; he had nodded curtly to Trevison when he had
+entered to take the chair in which he now sat, and had smiled when
+Trevison had deliberately turned his back. He smiled when Judge Graney
+asked the question--a faint, evanescent smirk. But at Judge Lindman's
+reply he sat staring stolidly, his face an impenetrable mask:
+
+"There was no mention of a deed in the writ of attachment issued by the
+court. Nor has the court any knowledge of the existence of such a deed.
+The officers of the court were commanded to proceed to the defendant's
+house, for the purpose of finding, if possible, and delivering to this
+court the sum of twenty-seven hundred dollars, which amount, representing
+the money paid to the defendant by the railroad company for certain grants
+and privileges, is to remain in possession of the court until the title to
+the land in litigation has been legally awarded."
+
+"But the court officers seized the defendant's deed, also," objected Judge
+Graney.
+
+Judge Lindman questioned a deputy who sat in the rear of the room. The
+latter replied that he had seen no deed. Yes, he admitted, in reply to a
+question of Judge Graney's, it might have been possible that Corrigan had
+been alone in the office for a time.
+
+Graney looked inquiringly at Corrigan. The latter looked steadily back at
+him. "I saw no deed," he said, coolly. "In fact, it wouldn't be _possible_
+for me to see any deed, for Trevison has no title to the property he
+speaks of."
+
+Judge Graney made a gesture of impotence to Trevison, then spoke slowly to
+the court. "I am afraid that without the deed it will be impossible for us
+to proceed. I ask a continuance until a search can be made."
+
+Judge Lindman coughed. "I shall have to refuse the request. The plaintiff
+is anxious to take possession of his property, and as no reason has been
+shown why he should not be permitted to do so, I hereby return judgment in
+his favor. Court is dismissed."
+
+"I give notice of appeal," said Graney.
+
+Outside a little later Judge Graney looked gravely at Trevison. "There's
+knavery here, my boy; there's some sort of influence behind Lindman. Let's
+see some of the other owners who are likely to be affected."
+
+This task took them two days, and resulted in the discovery that no other
+owner had secured a deed to his land. Lefingwell explained the omission.
+
+"A sale is a sale," he said; "or a sale _has_ been a sale until now. Land
+has changed hands out here just the same as we'd trade a horse for a cow
+or a pipe for a jack-knife. There was no questions asked. When a man had a
+piece of land to sell, he sold it, got his money an' didn't bother to give
+a receipt. Half the damn fools in this country wouldn't know a deed from a
+marriage license, an' they haven't been needin' one or the other. For when
+a man has a wife she's continually remindin' him of it, an' he can't
+forget it--he's got her. It's the same with his land--he's got it. So far
+as I know there's never been a deed issued for my land--or any of the land
+in that Midland grant, except Trevison's."
+
+"It looks as though Corrigan had considered that phase of the matter,"
+dryly observed Judge Graney. "The case doesn't look very hopeful. However,
+I shall take it before the Circuit Court of Appeals, in Santa Fe."
+
+He was gone a week, and returned, disgusted, but determined.
+
+"They denied our appeal; said they might have considered it if we had some
+evidence to offer showing that we had some sort of a claim to the title.
+When I told them of my conviction that the records had been tampered with,
+they laughed at me." The Judge's eyes gleamed indignantly. "Sometimes, I
+feel heartily in sympathy with people who rail at the courts--their
+attitude is often positively asinine."
+
+"Perhaps the long arm of power has reached to Santa Fe?" suggested
+Trevison.
+
+"It won't reach to Washington," declared the Judge, decisively. "And if
+you say the word, I'll go there and see what I can do. It's an outrage!"
+
+"I was hoping you'd go--there's no limit," said Trevison. "But as I see
+the situation, everything depends upon the discovery of the original
+record. I'm convinced that it is still in existence, and that Judge
+Lindman knows where it is. I'm going to get it, or--"
+
+"Easy, my friend," cautioned the Judge. "I know how you feel. But you
+can't fight the law with lawlessness. You lie quiet until you hear from
+me. That is all there is to be done, anyway--win or lose."
+
+Trevison clenched his teeth. "I might feel that way about it, if I had
+been as careless of my interests as the other owners here, but I
+safeguarded my interests, trusted them to the regularly recognized law out
+here, and I'm going to fight for them! Why, good God, man; I've worked ten
+years for that land! Do you think I will see it go _without_ a fight?" He
+laughed, and the Judge shook his head at the sound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+A MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION
+
+
+Unheeding the drama that was rapidly and invisibly (except for the
+incident of Braman and the window) working itself out in its midst, Manti
+lunged forward on the path of progress, each day growing larger, busier,
+more noisy and more important. Perhaps Manti did not heed, because Manti
+was itself a drama--the drama of creation. Each resident, each newcomer,
+settled quickly and firmly into the place that desire or ambition or greed
+urged him; put forth whatever energy nature had endowed him with, and
+pushed on toward the goal toward which the town was striving--success;
+collectively winning, unrecking of individual failure or tragedy--those
+things were to be expected, and they fell into the limbo of forgotten
+things, easily and unnoticed. Wrecks, disasters, were certain. They
+came--turmoil engulfed them.
+
+Which is to say that during the two weeks that had elapsed since the
+departure of Judge Graney for Washington, Manti had paid very little
+attention to "Brand" Trevison while he haunted the telegraph station and
+the post-office for news. He was pointed out, it is true, as the man who
+had hurled banker Braman through the window of his bank building; there
+was a hazy understanding that he was having some sort of trouble with
+Corrigan over some land titles, but in the main Manti buzzed along, busy
+with its visions and its troubles, leaving Trevison with his.
+
+The inaction, with the imminence of failure after ten years of effort, had
+its effect on Trevison. It fretted him; he looked years older; he looked
+worried and harassed; he longed for a chance to come to grips in an
+encounter that would ease the strain. Physical action it must be, for his
+brain was a muddle of passion and hatred in which clear thoughts, schemes,
+plans, plots, were swallowed and lost. He wanted to come into physical
+contact with the men and things that were thwarting him; he wanted to feel
+the thud and jar of blows; to catch the hot breath of open antagonism; he
+yearned to feel the strain of muscles--this fighting in the dark with
+courts and laws and lawyers, according to rules and customs, filled him
+with a raging impotence that hurt him. And then, at the end of two weeks
+came a telegram from Judge Graney, saying merely: "Be patient. It's a long
+trail."
+
+Trevison got on Nigger and returned to the Diamond K.
+
+The six o'clock train arrived in Manti that evening with many passengers,
+among whom was a woman of twenty-eight at whom men turned to look the
+second time. Her traveling suit spoke eloquently of that personal quality
+which a language, seeking new and expressive phrases describes as "class."
+It fitted her smoothly, tightly, revealing certain lines of her graceful
+figure that made various citizens of Manti gasp. "Looks like she'd been
+poured into it," remarked an interested lounger. She lingered on the
+station platform until she saw her trunks safely deposited, and then,
+drawing her skirts as though fearful of contamination, she walked,
+self-possessed and cool, through the doorway of the _Castle_
+hotel--Manti's aristocrat of hostelries.
+
+Shortly afterwards she admitted Corrigan to her room. She had changed from
+her traveling suit to a gown of some soft, glossy material that
+accentuated the lines revealed by the discarded habit. The worldly-wise
+would have viewed the lady with a certain expressive smile that might have
+meant much or nothing. And the lady would have looked upon that smile as
+she now looked at Corrigan, with a faint defiance that had quite a little
+daring in it. But in the present case there was an added expression--two,
+in fact--pleasure and expectancy.
+
+"Well--I'm here." She bowed, mockingly, laughingly, compressing her lips
+as she noted the quick fire that flamed in her visitor's eyes.
+
+"That's all over, Jeff; I won't go back to it. If that's why--"
+
+"That's all right," he said, smiling as he took the chair she waved him
+to; "I've erased a page or two from the past, myself. But I can't help
+admiring you; you certainly are looking fine! What have you been doing to
+yourself?"
+
+She draped herself in a chair where she could look straight at him, and
+his compliment made her mouth harden at the corners.
+
+"Well," she said; "in your letter you promised you'd take me into your
+confidence. I'm ready."
+
+"It's purely a business proposition. Each realizes on his effort. You help
+me to get Rosalind Benham through the simple process of fascinating
+Trevison; I help you to get Trevison by getting Miss Benham. It's a sort
+of mutual benefit association, as it were."
+
+"What does Trevison look like, Jeff--tell me?" The woman leaned forward in
+her chair, her eyes glowing.
+
+"Oh, you women!" said Corrigan, with a gesture of disgust. "He's a
+handsome fool," he added; "if that's what you want to know. But I haven't
+any compliments to hand him regarding his manners--he's a wild man!"
+
+"I'd love to see him!" breathed the woman.
+
+"Well, keep your hair on; you'll see him soon enough. But you've got to
+understand this: He's on my land, and he gets off without further
+fighting--if you can hold him. That's understood, eh? You win him back and
+get him away from here. If you double-cross me, he finds out what you
+are!" He flung the words at her, roughly.
+
+She spoke quietly, though color stained her cheeks. "Not 'are,' Jeff--what
+I was. That would be bad enough. But have no fear--I shall do as you ask.
+For I want him--I have wanted him all the time--even during the time I was
+chained to that little beast, Harvey. I wouldn't have been what I
+am--if--if--"
+
+"Cut it out!" he advised brutally; "the man always gets the blame,
+anyway--so it's no novelty to hear that sort of stuff. So you understand,
+eh? You choose your own method--but get results--quick! I want to get that
+damned fool away from here!" He got up and paced back and forth in the
+room. "If he takes Rosalind Benham away from me I'll kill him! I'll kill
+him, anyway!"
+
+"Has it gone very far between them?" The concern in her voice brought a
+harsh laugh from Corrigan.
+
+"Far enough, I guess. He's been riding with her; every day for three
+weeks, her aunt told me. He's a fiery, impetuous devil!"
+
+"Don't worry," she consoled. "And now," she directed; "get out of here.
+I've been on the go for days and days, and I want to sleep. I shall go out
+to see Rosalind tomorrow--to surprise her, Jeff--to surprise her. Ha,
+ha!"
+
+"I'll have a rig here for you at nine o'clock," said Corrigan. "Take your
+trunks--she won't order you away. Tell her that Trevison sent for
+you--don't mention my name; and stick to it! Well, pleasant dreams," he
+added as he went out.
+
+As the door closed the woman stood looking at it, a sneer curving her
+lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+WHEREIN A WOMAN LIES
+
+
+"Aren't you going to welcome me, dearie?"
+
+From the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse Rosalind had watched the rapid
+approach of the buckboard, and she now stood at the edge of the step
+leading to the porch, not more than ten or fifteen feet distant from the
+vehicle, shocked into dumb amazement.
+
+"Why, yes--of course. That is--Why, what on earth brought you out here?"
+
+"A perfectly good train--as far as your awfully crude town of Manti; and
+this--er--spring-legged thing, the rest of the way," laughed Hester
+Harvey. She had stepped down, a trifle flushed, inwardly amused, outwardly
+embarrassed--which was very good acting; but looking very attractive and
+girlish in the simple dress she had donned for the occasion--and for the
+purpose of making a good impression. So attractive was she that the
+contemplation of her brought a sinking sensation to Rosalind that drooped
+her shoulders, and caused her to look around, involuntarily, for something
+to lean upon. For there flashed into her mind at this instant the
+conviction that she had herself to blame for this visitation--she had
+written to Ruth Gresham, and Ruth very likely had disseminated the news,
+after the manner of all secrets, and Hester had heard it. And of course
+the attraction was "Brand" Trevison! A new emotion surged through Rosalind
+at this thought, an emotion so strong that it made her gasp--jealousy!
+
+She got through the ordeal somehow--with an appearance of pleasure--though
+it was hard for her to play the hypocrite! But so soon as she decently
+could, without cutting short the inevitable inconsequential chatter which
+fills the first moments of renewed friendships, she hurried Hester to a
+room and during her absence sat immovable in her chair on the porch
+staring stonily out at the plains.
+
+It was not until half an hour later, when they were sitting on the porch,
+that Hester delivered the stroke that caused Rosalind's hands to fall
+nervelessly into her lap, her lips to quiver and her eyes to fill with a
+reflection of a pain that gripped her hard, somewhere inside. For Hester
+had devised her method, as suggested by Corrigan.
+
+"It may seem odd to you--if you know anything of the manner of my breaking
+off with Trevison Brandon--but he wrote me about a month ago, asking me to
+come out here. I didn't accept the invitation at once--because I didn't
+want him to be too sure, you know, dearie. Men are always presuming and
+pursuing, dearie."
+
+"Then you didn't hear of Trevison's whereabouts from Ruth Gresham?"
+
+"Why, no, dearie! He wrote directly to me."
+
+Rosalind hadn't _that_ to reproach herself with, at any rate!
+
+"Of course, I couldn't go to his ranch--the Diamond K, isn't it?--so,
+noting from one of the newspapers that you had come here, I decided to
+take advantage of _your_ hospitality. I'm just wild to see the dear boy!
+Is his ranch far? For you know," she added, with a malicious look at the
+girl's pale face; "I must not keep him waiting, now that I am here."
+
+"You won't find him prosperous." It hurt Rosalind to say that, but the
+hurt was slightly offset by a savage resentment that gripped her when she
+thought of how quickly Hester had thrown Trevison over when she had
+discovered that he was penniless. And she had a desperate hope that the
+dismal aspect of Trevison's future would appall Hester--as it would were
+the woman still the mercenary creature she had been ten years before. But
+Hester looked at her with grave imperturbability.
+
+"I heard something about his trouble. About some land, isn't it? I didn't
+learn the particulars. Tell me about it--won't you, dearie?"
+
+Rosalind's story of Trevison's difficulties did not have the effect that
+she anticipated.
+
+"The poor, dear boy!" said Hester--and she seemed genuinely moved.
+Rosalind gulped hard over the shattered ruins of this last hope and got
+up, fighting against an inhospitable impulse to order Hester away. She
+made some slight excuse and slipped to her room, where she stayed long,
+elemental passions battling riotously within her.
+
+She realized now how completely she had yielded to the spell that the
+magnetic and impetuous exile had woven about her; she knew now that had he
+pressed her that day when he had told her of his love for her she must
+have surrendered. She thought, darkly, of his fiery manner that day, of
+his burning looks, his hot, impulsive words, of his confidences. Hypocrisy
+all! For while they had been together he must have been thinking of
+sending for Hester! He had been trifling with her! Faith in an ideal is a
+sacred thing, and shattered, it lights the fires of hate and scorn, and
+the emotions that seethed through Rosalind's veins as in her room she
+considered Trevison's unworthiness, finally developed into a furious
+vindictiveness. She wished dire, frightful calamities upon him, and then,
+swiftly reacting, her sympathetical womanliness forced the dark passions
+back, and she threw herself on the bed, sobbing, murmuring: "Forgive me!"
+
+Later, when she had made herself presentable, she went downstairs again,
+concealing her misery behind a steady courtesy and a smile that sometimes
+was a little forced and bitter, to entertain her guest. It was a long,
+tiresome day, made almost unbearable by Hester's small talk. But she got
+through it. And when, rather late in the afternoon, Hester inquired the
+way to the Diamond K, announcing her intention of visiting Trevison
+immediately, she gave no evidence of the shocked surprise that seized her.
+She coolly helped Hester prepare for the trip, and when she drove away in
+the buckboard, stood on the ground at the edge of the porch, watching as
+the buckboard and its occupant faded into the shimmering haze of the
+plains.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+JUSTICE VS. LAW
+
+
+Impatience, intolerable and vicious, gripped Trevison as he rode homeward
+after his haunting vigil at Manti. The law seemed to him to be like a
+house with many doors, around and through which one could play hide and
+seek indefinitely, with no possibility of finding one of the doors locked.
+Judge Graney had warned him to be cautious, but as he rode into the dusk
+of the plains the spirit of rebellion seized him. Twice he halted Nigger
+and wheeled him, facing Manti, already agleam and tumultuous, almost
+yielding to his yearning to return and force his enemy to some sort of
+physical action, but each time he urged the horse on, for he could think
+of no definite plan. He was half way to the Diamond K when he suddenly
+started and sat rigid and erect in the saddle, drawing a deep breath, his
+nerves tingling from excitement. He laughed lowly, exultingly, as men
+laugh when under the stress of adversity they devise sudden, bold plans of
+action, and responding to the slight knee press Nigger turned, reared, and
+then shot like a black bolt across the plains at an angle that would not
+take him anywhere near the Diamond K.
+
+Half an hour later, in a darkness which equaled that of the night on which
+he had carried the limp and drink-saturated Clay Levins to his wife,
+Trevison was dismounting at the door of the gun-man's cabin. A little
+later, standing in the glare of lamplight that shone through the open
+doorway, he was reassuring Mrs. Levins and asking for her husband. Shortly
+afterward, he was talking lowly to Levins as the latter saddled his pony
+out at the stable.
+
+"I'll do it--for you," Levins told him. And then he chuckled. "It'll seem
+like old times."
+
+"It's Justice versus Law, tonight," laughed Trevison; "it's a case of 'the
+end justifying the means.'"
+
+Manti never slept. At two o'clock in the morning the lights in the
+gambling rooms of the _Belmont_ and the _Plaza_ were still flickering
+streams out into the desert night; weak strains of discord were being
+drummed out of a piano in a dance hall; the shuffling of feet smote the
+dead, flat silence of the night with an odd, weird resonance. Here and
+there a light burned in a dwelling or store, or shone through the wall of
+a tent-house. But Manti's one street was deserted--the only peace that
+Manti ever knew, had descended.
+
+Two men who had dismounted at the edge of town had hitched their horses in
+the shadow of a wagon shed in the rear of a store building, and were
+making their way cautiously down the railroad tracks toward the center of
+town. They kept in the shadows of the buildings as much as possible--for
+space was valuable now and many buildings nuzzled the railroad tracks; but
+when once they were forced to pass through a light from a window their
+faces were revealed in it for an instant--set, grim and determined.
+
+"We've got to move quickly," said one of the men as they neared the
+courthouse; "it will be daylight soon. Damn a town that never sleeps!"
+
+The other laughed lowly. "I've said the same thing, often," he whispered.
+"Easy now--here we are!"
+
+They paused in the shadow of the building and whispered together briefly.
+A sound reached their ears as they stood. Peering around the corner
+nearest them they saw the bulk of a man appear. He walked almost to the
+corner of the building where they crouched, and they held their breath,
+tensing their muscles. Just when it seemed they must be discovered, the
+man wheeled, walked away, and vanished into the darkness toward the other
+side of the building. Presently he returned, and repeated the maneuver. As
+he vanished the second time, the larger man of the two in wait, whispered
+to the other:
+
+"He's the sentry! Stand where you are--I'll show Corrigan--"
+
+The words were cut short by the reappearance of the sentry. He came close
+to the corner, and wheeled, to return. A lithe black shape leaped like a
+huge cat, and landed heavily on the sentry's shoulders, bringing a pained
+grunt from him. The grunt died in a gurgle as iron fingers closed on his
+throat; he was jammed, face down, into the dust and held there,
+smothering, until his body slacked and his muscles ceased rippling. Then a
+handkerchief was slipped around his mouth and drawn tightly. He was rolled
+over, still unconscious, his hands tied behind him. Then he was borne away
+into the darkness by the big man, who carried him as though he were a
+child.
+
+"Locked in a box-car," whispered the big man, returning: "They'll get him;
+they're half unloaded."
+
+Without further words they returned to the shadow of the building.
+
+Judge Lindman had not been able to sleep until long after his usual hour
+for retiring. The noise, and certain thoughts, troubled him. It was after
+midnight when he finally sought his cot, and he was in a heavy doze until
+shortly after two, when a breath of air, chilled by its clean sweep over
+the plains, searched him out and brought him up, sitting on the edge of
+the cot, shivering.
+
+The rear door of the courthouse was open. In front of the iron safe at the
+rear of the room he saw a man, faintly but unmistakably outlined in the
+cross light from two windows. He was about to cry out when his throat was
+seized from behind and he was borne back on the cot resistlessly. Held
+thus, a voice which made him strain his eyes in an effort to see the
+owner's face, hissed in his ear:
+
+"I don't want to kill you, but I'll do it if you cry out! I mean business!
+Do you promise not to betray us?"
+
+The Judge wagged his head weakly, and the grip on his throat relaxed. He
+sat up, aware that the fingers were ready to grip his throat again, for he
+could feel the big shape lingering beside him.
+
+"This is an outrage!" he gasped, shuddering. "I know you--you are
+Trevison. I shall have you punished for this."
+
+The other laughed lowly and vibrantly. "That's your affair--if you dare!
+You say a word about this visit and I'll feed your scoundrelly old carcass
+to the coyotes! Justice is abroad tonight and it won't be balked. I'm
+after that original land record--and I'm going to have it. You know where
+it is--you've got it. Your face told me that the other day. You're only
+half-heartedly in this steal. Be a man--give me the record--and I'll stand
+by you until hell freezes over! Quick! Is it in the safe?"
+
+The Judge wavered in agonized indecision. But thoughts of Corrigan's wrath
+finally conquered.
+
+"It--it isn't in the safe," he said. And then, aware of his error because
+of the shrill breath the other drew, he added, quaveringly: "There is
+no--the original record is in my desk--you've seen it."
+
+"Bah!" The big shape backed away--two or three feet, whispering back at
+the Judge. "Open your mouth and you're a dead man. I've got you covered!"
+
+Cowering on his cot the Judge watched the big shape join the other at the
+safe. How long it remained there, he did not know. A step sounded in the
+silence that reigned outside--a third shape loomed in the doorway.
+
+"Judge Lindman!" called a voice.
+
+"Y-es?" quavered the Judge, aware that the big shape in the room was now
+close to him, menacing him.
+
+"Your door's open! Where's Ed? There's something wrong! Get up and strike
+a light. There'll be hell to pay if Corrigan finds out we haven't been
+watching your stuff. Damn it! A man can't steal time for a drink without
+something happens. Jim and Bill and me just went across the street,
+leaving Ed here. They're coming right--"
+
+He had been entering the room while talking, fingering in his pockets for
+a match. His voice died in a quick gasp as Trevison struck with the butt
+of his pistol. The man fell, silently.
+
+Another voice sounded outside. Trevison crouched at the doorway. A form
+darkened the opening. Trevison struck, missed, a streak of fire split the
+night--the newcomer had used his pistol. It went off again--the
+flame-spurt shooting ceilingward, as Levins clinched the man from the
+rear. A third man loomed in the doorway; a fourth appeared, behind him.
+Trevison swung at the head of the man nearest him, driving him back upon
+the man behind, who cursed, plunging into the room. The man whom Levins
+had seized was shouting orders to the others. But these suddenly ceased as
+Levins smashed him on the head with the butt of a pistol. Two others
+remained. They were stubborn and courageous. But it was miserable work, in
+the dark--blows were misdirected, friend striking friend; other blows went
+wild, grunts of rage and impotent curses following. But Trevison and
+Levins were intent on escaping--a victory would have been hollow--for the
+thud and jar of their boots on the bare floor had been heard; doors were
+slamming; from across the street came the barking of a dog; men were
+shouting questions at one another; from the box-car on the railroad tracks
+issued vociferous yells and curses. Trevison slipped out through the door,
+panting. His opponent had gone down, temporarily disabled from sundry
+vicious blows from a fist that had worked like a piston rod. A figure
+loomed at his side. "I got mine!" it said, triumphantly; "we'd better
+slope."
+
+"Another five minutes and I'd have cracked it," breathed Levins as they
+ran. "What's Corrigan havin' the place watched for?"
+
+"You've got me. Afraid of the Judge, maybe. The Judge hasn't his whole
+soul in this deal; it looks to me as though Corrigan is forcing him. But
+the Judge has the original record, all right; and it's in that safe, too!
+God! If they'd only given us a minute or two longer!"
+
+They fled down the track, running heavily, for the work had been fast and
+the tension great, and when they reached the horses and threw themselves
+into the saddles, Manti was ablaze with light. As they raced away in the
+darkness a grim smile wreathed Trevison's face. For though he had not
+succeeded in this enterprise, he had at least struck a blow--and he had
+corroborated his previous opinion concerning Judge Lindman's knowledge of
+the whereabouts of the original record.
+
+It was three o'clock and the dawn was just breaking when Trevison rode
+into the Diamond K corral and pulled the saddle from Nigger. Levins had
+gone home.
+
+Trevison was disappointed. It had been a bold scheme, and well planned,
+and it would have succeeded had it not been for the presence of the
+sentries. He had not anticipated that. He laughed grimly, remembering
+Judge Lindman's fright. Would the Judge reveal the identity of his
+early-morning visitor? Trevison thought not, for if the original record
+were in the safe, and if for any reason the Judge wished to conceal its
+existence from Corrigan, a hint of the identity of the early-morning
+visitors--especially of one--might arouse Corrigan's suspicions.
+
+But what if Corrigan knew of the existence of the original record? There
+was the presence of the guards to indicate that he did. But there was
+Judge Lindman's half-heartedness to disprove that line of reasoning. Also,
+Trevison was convinced that if Corrigan knew of the existence of the
+record he would destroy it; it would be dangerous, in the hands of an
+enemy. But it would be an admirable weapon of self-protection in the hands
+of a man who had been forced into wrong-doing--in the hands of Judge
+Lindman, for instance. Trevison opened the door that led to his office,
+thrilling with a new hope. He lit a match, stepped across the floor and
+touched the flame to the wick of the kerosene lamp--for it was not yet
+light enough for him to see plainly in the office--and stood for an
+instant blinking in its glare. A second later he reeled back against the
+edge of the desk, his hands gripping it, dumb, amazed, physically sick
+with a fear that he had suddenly gone insane. For in a big chair in a
+corner of the room, sleepy-eyed, tired, but looking very becoming in her
+simple dress with a light cloak over it, the collar turned up, so that it
+gave her an appearance of attractive negligence, a smile of delighted
+welcome on her face, was Hester Harvey.
+
+She got up as he stood staring dumfoundedly at her and moved toward him,
+with an air of artful supplication that brought a gasp out of him--of
+sheer relief.
+
+"Won't you welcome me, Trev? I have come very far, to see you." She held
+out her hands and went slowly toward him, mutely pleading, her eyes
+luminous with love--which she did not pretend, for the boy she had known
+had grown into the promise of his youth--big, magnetic--a figure for any
+woman to love.
+
+He had been looking at her intently, narrowly, searchingly. He saw what
+she herself had not seen--the natural changes that ten years had brought
+to her. He saw other things--that she had not suspected--a certain blase
+sophistication; a too bold and artful expression of the eyes--as though
+she knew their power and the lure of them; the slightly hard curve in the
+corners of her mouth; a second character lurking around her--indefinite,
+vague, repelling--the subconscious self, that no artifice can hide--the
+sin and the shame of deeds unrepented. If there had been a time when he
+had loved her, its potence could not leap the lapse of years and overcome
+his repugnance for her kind, and he looked at her coldly, barring her
+progress with a hand, which caught her two and held them in a grip that
+made her wince.
+
+"What are you doing here? How did you get in? When did you come?" He fired
+the questions at her roughly, brutally.
+
+"Why, Trev." She gulped, her smile fading palely. The conquest was not to
+be the easy one she had thought--though she really wanted him--more than
+ever, now that she saw she was in danger of losing him. She explained,
+earnestly pleading with eyes that had lost their power to charm him.
+
+"I heard you were here--that you were in trouble. I want to help you. I
+got here night before last--to Manti. Rosalind Benham had written about
+you to Ruth Gresham--a friend of hers in New York. Ruth Gresham told me. I
+went directly from Manti to Benham's ranch. Then I came here--about dusk,
+last night. There was a man here--your foreman, he said. I explained, and
+he let me in. Trev--won't you welcome me?"
+
+"It isn't the first time I've been in trouble." His laugh was harsh; it
+made her cringe and cry:
+
+"I've repented for that. I shouldn't have done it; I don't know what was
+the matter with me. Harvey had been telling me things about you--"
+
+"You wouldn't have believed him--" He laughed, cynically. "There's no use
+of haggling over _that_--it's buried, and I've placed a monument over it:
+'Here lies a fool that believed in a woman.' I don't reproach you--you
+couldn't be blamed for not wanting to marry an idiot like me. But I
+haven't changed. I still have my crazy ideas of honor and justice and
+square-dealing, and my double-riveted faith in my ability to triumph over
+all adversity. But women--Bah! you're all alike! You scheme, you plot, you
+play for place; you are selfish, cold; you snivel and whine--There is more
+of it, but I can't think of any more. But--let's face this matter
+squarely. If you still like me, I'm sorry for you, for I can't say that
+the sight of you has stirred any old passion in me. You shouldn't have
+come out here."
+
+"You're terribly resentful, Trev. And I don't blame you a bit--I deserve
+it all. But don't send me away. Why, I--love you, Trev; I've loved you all
+these years; I loved you when I sent you away--while I was married to
+Harvey; and more afterwards--and now, deeper than ever; and--"
+
+He shook his head and looked at her steadily--cynicism, bald derision in
+his gaze. "I'm sorry; but it can't be--you're too late."
+
+He dropped her hands, and she felt of the fingers where he had gripped
+them. She veiled the quick, savage leap in her eyes by drooping the lids.
+
+"You love Rosalind Benham," she said, quietly, looking at him with a
+mirthless smile. He started, and her lips grew a trifle stiff. "You poor
+boy!"
+
+"Why the pity?" he said grimly.
+
+"Because she doesn't care for you, Trev. She told me yesterday that she
+was engaged to marry a man named Corrigan. He is out here, she said. She
+remarked that she had found you very amusing during the three or four
+weeks of Corrigan's absence, and she seemed delighted because the court
+out here had ruled that the land you thought was yours belongs to the man
+who is to be her husband."
+
+He stiffened at this, for it corroborated Corrigan's words: "She is heart
+and soul with me in this deal, She is ambitious." Trevison's lips curled
+scornfully. First, Hester Keyes had been ambitious, and now it was
+Rosalind Benham. He fought off the bitter resentment that filled him and
+raised his head, laughing, glossing over the hurt with savage humor.
+
+"Well, I'm doing some good in the world, after all."
+
+"Trev," Hester moved toward him again, "don't talk like that--it makes me
+shiver. I've been through the fire, boy--we've both been through it. I
+wasted myself on Harvey--you'll do the same with Rosalind Benham. Ten
+years, boy--think of it! I've loved you for that long. Doesn't that make
+you understand--"
+
+"There's nothing quite so dead as a love that a man doesn't want to
+revive," he said shortly; "do you understand that?"
+
+She shuddered and paled, and a long silence came between them. The cold
+dawn that was creeping over the land stole into the office with them and
+found the fires of affection turned to the ashes of unwelcome memory. The
+woman seemed to realize at last, for she gave a little shiver and looked
+up at Trevison with a wan smile.
+
+"I--I think I understand, Trev. Oh, I am _so_ sorry! But I am not going
+away. I am going to stay in Manti, to be near you--if you want me. And you
+will want me, some day." She went close to him. "Won't you kiss me--once,
+Trev? For the sake of old times?"
+
+"You'd better go," he said gruffly, turning his head. And then, as she
+opened the door and stood upon the threshold, he stepped after her,
+saying: "I'll get your horse."
+
+"There's two of them," she laughed tremulously. "I came in a buckboard."
+
+"Two, then," he said soberly as he followed her out. "And say--" He
+turned, flushing. "You came at dusk, last night. I'm afraid I haven't been
+exactly thoughtful. Wait--I'll rustle up something to eat."
+
+"I--I couldn't touch it, thank you. Trev--" She started toward him
+impulsively, but he turned his back grimly and went toward the corral.
+
+Sunrise found Hester back at the Bar B. Jealous, hurt eyes had watched
+from an upstairs window the approach of the buckboard--had watched the
+Diamond K trail the greater part of the night. For, knowing of the absence
+of women at the Diamond K, Rosalind had anticipated Hester's return the
+previous evening--for the distance that separated the two ranches was not
+more than two miles. But the girl's vigil had been unrewarded until now.
+And when at last she saw the buckboard coming, scorn and rage, furious and
+deep, seized her. Ah, it was bold, brazen, disgraceful!
+
+But she forced herself to calmness as she went down stairs to greet her
+guest--for there might have been some excuse for the lapse of
+propriety--some accident--something, anything.
+
+"I expected you last night," she said as she met Hester at the door. "You
+were delayed I presume. Has anything happened?"
+
+"Nothing, dearie." Only the bold significance of Hester's smile hid its
+deliberate maliciousness. "Trev was so glad to see me that he simply
+wouldn't let me go. And it was daylight before we realized it."
+
+The girl gasped. And now, looking at the woman, she saw what Trevison had
+seen--staring back at her, naked and repulsive. She shuddered, and her
+face whitened.
+
+"There are hotels at Manti, Mrs. Harvey," she said coldly.
+
+"Oh, very well!" The woman did not change her smile. "I shall be very glad
+to take advantage of your kind invitation. For Trev tells me that
+presently there will be much bitterness between your crowd and himself,
+and I am certain that he wouldn't want me to stay here. If you will kindly
+have a man bring my trunks--"
+
+And so she rode toward Manti. Not until the varying undulations of the
+land hid her from view of the Bar B ranchhouse did she lose the malicious
+smile. Then it faded, and furious sobs of disappointment shook her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+LAW INVOKED AND DEFIED
+
+
+As soon as the deputies had gone, two of them nursing injured heads, and
+all exhibiting numerous bruises, Judge Lindman rose and dressed. In the
+ghostly light preceding the dawn he went to the safe, his fingers
+trembling so that he made difficult work with the combination. He got a
+record from out of the safe, pulled out the bottom drawer, of a series
+filled with legal documents and miscellaneous articles, laid the record
+book on the floor and shoved the drawer in over it. An hour later he was
+facing Corrigan, who on getting a report of the incident from one of the
+deputies, had hurried to get the Judge's version. The Judge had had time
+to regain his composure, though he was still slightly pale and nervous.
+
+The Judge lied glibly. He had seen no one in the courthouse. His first
+knowledge that anyone had been there had come when he had heard the voice
+of one, of the deputies, calling to him. And then all he had seen was a
+shadowy figure that had leaped and struck. After that there had been some
+shooting. And then the men had escaped.
+
+"No one spoke?"
+
+"Not a word," said the Judge. "That is, of course, no one but the man who
+called to me."
+
+"Did they take anything?"
+
+"What is there to take? There is nothing of value."
+
+"Gieger says one of them was working at the safe. What's in there?"
+
+"Some books and papers and supplies--nothing of value. That they tried to
+get into the safe would seem to indicate that they thought there was money
+there--Manti has many strangers who would not hesitate at robbery."
+
+"They didn't get into the safe, then?"
+
+"I haven't looked inside--nothing seems to be disturbed, as it would were
+the men safe-blowers. In their hurry to get away it would seem, if they
+had come to get into the safe, they would have left something
+behind--tools, or something of that character."
+
+"Let's have a look at the safe. Open it!" Corrigan seemed to be
+suspicious, and with a pulse of trepidation, the Judge knelt and worked
+the combination. When the door came open Corrigan dropped on his knees in
+front of it and began to pull out the contents, scattering them in his
+eagerness. He stood up after a time, scowling, his face flushed. He turned
+on the Judge, grasped him by the shoulders, his fingers gripping so hard
+that the Judge winced.
+
+"Look here, Lindman," he said. "Those men were not ordinary robbers.
+Experienced men would know better than to crack a safe in a courthouse
+when there's a bank right next door. I've an idea that it was some of
+Trevison's work. You've done or said something that's given him the notion
+that you've got the original record. Have you?"
+
+"I swear I have said nothing," declared the Judge.
+
+Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and then released him. "You
+burned it, eh?"
+
+The Judge nodded, and Corrigan compressed his lips. "I suppose it's all
+right, but I can't help wishing that I had been here to watch the ceremony
+of burning that record. I'd feel a damn sight more secure. But understand
+this: If you double-cross me in any detail of this game, you'll never go
+to the penitentiary for what Benham knows about you--I'll choke the
+gizzard out of you!" He took a turn around the room, stopping at last in
+front of the Judge.
+
+"Now we'll talk business. I want you to issue an order permitting me to
+erect mining machinery on Trevison's land. We need coal here."
+
+"Graney gave notice of appeal," protested the Judge.
+
+"Which the Circuit Court denied."
+
+"He'll go to Washington," persisted the Judge, gulping. "I can't legally
+do it."
+
+Corrigan laughed. "Appoint a receiver to operate the mine, pending the
+Supreme Court decision. Appoint Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. There
+is no record or deed."
+
+"There is no need of haste," Lindman cautioned; "you can't get mining
+machinery here for some time yet."
+
+Corrigan laughed, dragging the Judge to a window, from which he pointed
+out some flat-cars standing on a siding, loaded with lumber, machinery,
+corrugated iron, shutes, cables, trucks, "T" rails, and other articles
+that the Judge did not recognize.
+
+The Judge exclaimed in astonishment. Corrigan grunted.
+
+"I ordered that stuff six weeks ago, in anticipation of my victory in your
+court. You can see how I trusted in your honesty and perspicacity. I'll
+have it on the ground tomorrow--some of it today. Of course I want to
+proceed legally, and in order to do that I'll have to have the court order
+this morning. You do whatever is necessary."
+
+At daylight he was in the laborers' camp, skirting the railroad at the
+edge of town, looking for Carson. He found the big Irishman in one of the
+larger tent-houses, talking with the cook, who was preparing breakfast
+amid a smother of smoke and the strong mingled odors of frying bacon and
+coffee. Corrigan went only to the flap of the tent, motioning Carson
+outside.
+
+Walking away from the tent toward some small frame buildings down the
+track, Corrigan said:
+
+"There are several carloads of material there," pointing to the flat-cars
+which he had shown to the Judge. "I've hired a mining man to superintend
+the erection of that stuff--it's mining machinery and material for
+buildings. I want you to place as many of your men as you can spare at the
+disposal of the engineer; his name's Pickand, and you'll find him at the
+cars at eight o'clock. I'll have some more laborers sent over from the
+dam. Give him as many men as he wants; go with him yourself, if he wants
+you."
+
+"What are ye goin' to mine?"
+
+"Coal."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"I've been looking over the land with Pickand; he says we'll sink a shaft
+at the base of the butte below the mesa, where you are laying tracks now.
+We won't have to go far, Pickand says. There's coal--thick veins of
+it--running back into the wall of the butte."
+
+"All right, sir," said Carson. But he scratched his head in perplexity,
+eyeing Corrigan sidelong. "Ye woudn't be sayin' that ye'll be diggin' for
+coal on the railroad's right av way, wud ye?"
+
+"No!" snapped Corrigan.
+
+"Thin it will be on Trevison's land. Have ye bargained wid him for it?"
+
+"No! Look here, Carson. Mind your own business and do as you're told!"
+
+"I'm elicted, I s'pose; but it's a job I ain't admirin' to do. If ye've
+got half the sinse I give ye credit for havin', ye'll be lettin' that mon
+Trevison alone--I'd a lot sooner smoke a segar in that shed av dynamite
+than to cross him!"
+
+Corrigan smiled and turned to look in the direction in which the Irishman
+was pointing. A small, flat-roofed frame building, sheathed with
+corrugated iron, met his view. Crude signs, large enough to be read
+hundreds of feet distant, were affixed to the walls:
+
+                          "CAUTION. DYNAMITE."
+
+"Do you keep much of it there?"
+
+"Enough for anny blastin' we have to do. There's plenty--half a ton,
+mebbe."
+
+"Who's got the key?"
+
+"Meself."
+
+Corrigan returned to town, breakfasted, mounted a horse and rode out to
+the dam, where he gave orders for some laborers to be sent to Carson. At
+nine o'clock he was back in Manti talking with Pickand, and watching the
+dinky engine as it pulled the loaded flat-cars westward over the tracks.
+He left Pickand and went to his office in the bank building, where he
+conferred with some men regarding various buildings and improvements in
+contemplation, and shortly after ten, glancing out of a window, he saw a
+buckboard stop in front of the _Castle_ hotel. Corrigan waited a little,
+then closed his desk and walked across the street. Shortly he confronted
+Hester Harvey in her room. He saw from her downcast manner that she had
+failed. His face darkened.
+
+"Wouldn't work, eh? What did he say?"
+
+The woman was hunched down in her chair, still wearing the cloak that she
+had worn in Trevison's office; the collar still up, the front thrown open.
+Her hair was disheveled; dark lines were under her eyes; she glared at
+Corrigan in an abandon of savage dejection.
+
+"He turned me down--cold." Her laugh held the bitterness of self-derision.
+"I'm through, there, Jeff."
+
+"Hell!" cursed the man. She looked at him, her lips curving with amused
+contempt.
+
+"Oh, you're all right--don't worry. That's all you care about, isn't it?"
+She laughed harshly at the quickened light in his eyes. "You'd see me
+sacrifice myself; you wouldn't give me a word of sympathy. That's you!
+That's the way of all men. Give, give, give! That's the masculine
+chorus--the hunting-song of the human wolf-pack!"
+
+"Don't talk like that--it ain't like you, kid. You were always the gamest
+little dame I ever knew." He essayed to take the hand that was twisted in
+the folds of her cloak, but she drew it away from him in a fury. And the
+eagerness in his eyes betrayed the insincerity of his attempt at
+consolation; she saw it--the naked selfishness of his look--and sneered at
+him.
+
+"You want the good news, eh? The good for you? That's all you care about.
+After you get it, I'll get the husks of your pity. Well, here it is. I've
+poisoned them both--against each other. I told him she was against him in
+this land business. And it hurt me to see how gamely he took it, Jeff!"
+her voice broke, but she choked back the sob and went on, hoarsely: "He
+didn't make a whimper. Not even when I told him you were going to marry
+her--that you were engaged. But there was a fire in those eyes of his that
+I would give my soul to see there for me!"
+
+"Yes--yes," said the man, impatiently.
+
+"Oh, you devil!" she railed at him. "I've made him think it was a frame-up
+between you and her--to get information out of him; I told him that she
+had strung him along for a month or so--amusing herself. And he believes
+it."
+
+"Good!"
+
+"And I've made her believe that he sent for me," she went on, her voice
+leaping to cold savagery. "I stayed all night at his place, and I went
+back to the Bar B in the morning--this morning--and made Rosalind Benham
+think--Ha, ha! She ordered me away from the house--the hussy! She's
+through with him--any fool could tell that. But it's different with him,
+Jeff. He won't give her up; he isn't that kind. He'll fight for her--and
+he'll have her!"
+
+The eager, pleased light died out of Corrigan's face, his lips set in an
+ugly pout. But he contrived to smile as he got up.
+
+"You've done well--so far. But don't give him up. Maybe he'll change his
+mind. Stay here--I'll stake you to the limit." He laid a roll of bills on
+a stand--she did not look at them--and approached her in a second endeavor
+to console her. But she waved him away, saying: "Get out of here--I want
+to think!" And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door.
+
+"Selfish?" he muttered, going down the street. "Well, what of it? That's a
+human weakness, isn't it? Get what you want, and to hell with other
+people!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed rest. He had watched
+Hester Harvey go with no conscious regret, but with a certain grim pity,
+which was as futile as her visit. But, lying on the bed he fought hard
+against the bitter scorn that raged in him over the contemplation of
+Rosalind Benham's duplicity. He found it hard to believe that she had been
+duping him, for during the weeks of his acquaintance with her he had
+studied her much--with admiration-weighted prejudice, of course, since she
+made a strong appeal to him--and he had been certain, then, that she was
+as free from guile as a child--excepting any girl's natural artifices by
+which she concealed certain emotions that men had no business trying to
+read. He had read some of them--his business or not--and he had imagined
+he had seen what had fired his blood--a reciprocal affection. He would not
+have declared himself, otherwise.
+
+He went to sleep, thinking of her. He awoke about noon, to see Barkwell
+standing at his side, shaking him.
+
+"Have you got any understandin' with that railroad gang that they're to do
+any minin' on the Diamond K range?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, they're gettin' ready to do it. Over at the butte near the railroad
+cut. I passed there a while ago an' quizzed the big guy--Corrigan--about a
+gang workin' there. He says they're goin' to mine coal. I asked him if he
+had your permission an' he said he didn't need it. I reckon they ain't
+none shy on gall where that guy come from!"
+
+Trevison got out of bed and buckled on his cartridge belt and pistol. "The
+boys are working the Willow Creek range," he said, sharply. "Get them,
+tell them to load up with plenty of cartridges, and join me at the
+butte."
+
+He heard Barkwell go leaping down the stairs, his spurs striking the step
+edges, and a few minutes later, riding Nigger out of the corral he saw the
+foreman racing away in a dust cloud. He followed the bed of the river,
+himself, going at a slow lope, for he wanted time to think--to gain
+control of the rage that boiled in his veins. He conquered it, and when he
+came in sight of the butte he was cool and deliberate, though on his face
+was that "mean" look that Carson had once remarked about to his friend
+Murphy, partly hidden by the "tiger" smile which, the Irishman had
+discovered, preceded action, ruthless and swift.
+
+The level below the butte was a-buzz with life and energy. Scores of
+laborers were rushing about under the direction of a tall, thin,
+bespectacled man who seemed to be the moving spirit in all the activity.
+He shouted orders to Carson--Trevison saw the big figure of the Irishman
+dominating the laborers--who repeated them, added to them; sending men
+scampering hither and thither. Pausing at a little distance down the
+level, Trevison watched the scene. At first all seemed confusion, but
+presently he was able to discern that method ruled. For he now observed
+that the laborers were divided into "gangs." Some were unloading the
+flat-cars, others were "assembling" a stationary engine near the wall of
+the butte. They had a roof over it, already. Others were laying tracks
+that intersected with the main line; still others were erecting buildings
+along the level. They were on Trevison's land--there was no doubt of that.
+Moreover, they were erecting their buildings and apparatus at the point
+where Trevison himself had contemplated making a start. He saw Corrigan
+seated on a box on one of the flat-cars, smoking a cigar; another man,
+whom Trevison recognized as Gieger--he would have been willing to swear
+the man was one of those who had thwarted his plans in the
+courthouse--standing beside him, a Winchester rifle resting in the hollow
+of his left arm. Trevison urged Nigger along the level, down the track,
+and halted near Corrigan and Gieger. He knew that Corrigan had seen him,
+but it pleased the other to pretend that he had not.
+
+"This is your work, Corrigan--I take it?" said Trevison, bluntly.
+
+Corrigan turned slowly. He was a good actor, for he succeeded in getting a
+fairly convincing counterfeit of surprise into his face as his gaze fell
+on his enemy.
+
+"You have taken it correctly, sir." He smiled blandly, though there was a
+snapping alertness in his eyes that belied his apparent calmness. He
+turned to Gieger, ignoring Trevison. "Organization is the thing. Pickand
+is a genius at it," he said.
+
+Trevison's eyes flamed with rage over this deliberate insult. But in it he
+saw a cold design to make him lose his temper. The knowledge brought a
+twisting smile to his face.
+
+"You have permission to begin this work, I suppose?"
+
+Corrigan turned again, as though astonished at the persistence of the
+other. "Certainly, sir. This work is being done under a court order,
+issued this morning. I applied for it yesterday. I am well within my legal
+rights, the court having as you are aware, settled the question of the
+title."
+
+"You know I have appealed the case?"
+
+"I have not been informed that you have done so. In any event such an
+appeal would not prevent me mining the coal on the property, pending the
+hearing of the case in the higher court. Judge Lindman has appointed a
+receiver, who is bonded; and the work is to proceed under his direction. I
+am here merely as an onlooker."
+
+He looked fairly at Trevison, his eyes gleaming with cold derision. The
+expression maddened the other beyond endurance, and his eyes danced the
+chill glitter of meditated violence, unrecking consequences.
+
+"You're a sneaking crook, Corrigan, and you know it! You're going too far!
+You've had Braman appointed in order to escape the responsibility! You're
+hiding behind him like a coward! Come out into the open and fight like a
+man!"
+
+Corrigan's face bloated poisonously, but he made no hostile move. "I'll
+kill you for that some day!" he whispered. "Not now," he laughed
+mirthlessly as the other stiffened; "I can't take the risk right now--I've
+too much depending on me. But you've been damned impertinent and
+troublesome, and when I get you where I want you I'm going to serve you
+like this!" And he took the cigar from his mouth, dropped it to the floor
+of the car and ground it to pieces under his heel. He looked up again, at
+Trevison, and their gaze met, in each man's eyes glowed the knowledge of
+imminent action, ruthless and terrible.
+
+Trevison broke the tension with a laugh that came from between his teeth.
+"Why delay?" he mocked. "I've been ready for the grinding process since
+the first day."
+
+"Enough of this!" Corrigan turned to Gieger with a glance of cold
+intolerance. "This man is a nuisance," he said to the deputy. "Carry out
+the mandate of the court and order him away. If he doesn't go, kill him!
+He is a trespasser, and has no right here!" And he glared at Trevison.
+
+"You've got to get out, mister," said the deputy. He tapped his rifle
+menacingly, betraying a quick accession of rage that he caught, no doubt,
+from Corrigan. Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little. For an
+instant he meditated resistance, and dropped his right hand to the butt of
+his pistol. A shout distracted his attention. It came from behind him--it
+sounded like a warning, and he wheeled, to see Carson running toward him,
+not more than ten feet distant, waving his hands, a huge smile on his
+face.
+
+"Domned if it ain't Trevison!" he yelled as he lunged forward and caught
+Trevison's right hand in his own, pulling the rider toward him. "I've been
+wantin' to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now--about thim cows which me
+brother in Illinoy has been askin' me about, an' divvil a chance have I
+had to see ye!" And as he yanked Trevison's shoulders downward with a
+sudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered, rapidly.
+
+"Diputies--thirty av thim wid Winchesters--on the other side av the
+flat-cars. It's a thrap to do away wid ye--I heard 'em cookin' it!"
+
+"An' ye wudn't be sellin' 'em to me at twinty-five, eh?" he said, aloud.
+"Go 'long wid ye--ye're a domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!"
+And he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and laughed gleefully
+as the animal lunged at him, ears laid back, mouth open.
+
+His eyes cold, his lips hard and straight, Trevison spurred the black
+again to the flat-car.
+
+"The bars are down between us, Corrigan; it's man to man from now on. Law
+or no law, I give you twenty-four hours to get your men and apparatus off
+my land. After that I won't be responsible for what happens!" He heard a
+shout behind him, a clatter, and he turned to see ten or twelve of his men
+racing over the level toward him. At the same instant he heard a sharp
+exclamation from Corrigan; heard Gieger issue a sharp order, and a line of
+men raised their heads above the flat-cars, rifles in their hands, which
+they trained on the advancing cowboys.
+
+Nigger leaped; his rider holding up one hand, the palm toward his men, as
+a sign to halt, while he charged into them. Trevison talked fast to them,
+while the laborers, suspending work, watched, muttering; and the rifles,
+resting on the flat-cars, grew steadier in their owners' hands. The
+silence grew deeper; the tension was so great that when somewhere a man
+dropped a shovel, it startled the watchers like a sudden bomb.
+
+It was plain that Trevison's men wanted to fight. It was equally plain
+that Trevison was arguing to dissuade them. And when, muttering, and
+casting belligerent looks backward, they finally drew off, Trevison
+following, there was a sigh of relief from the watchers, while Corrigan's
+face was black with disappointment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A WOMAN RIDES IN VAIN
+
+
+Out of Rosalind Benham's resentment against Trevison for the Hester Harvey
+incident grew a sudden dull apathy--which presently threatened to become
+an aversion--for the West. Its crudeness, the uncouthness of its people;
+the emptiness, the monotony, began to oppress her. Noticing the waning of
+her enthusiasm, Agatha began to inject energetic condemnations of the
+country into her conversations with the girl, and to hint broadly of the
+contrasting allurements of the East.
+
+But Rosalind was not yet ready to desert the Bar B. She had been hurt, and
+her interest in the country had dulled, but there were memories over which
+one might meditate until--until one could be certain of some things. This
+was hope, insistently demanding delay of judgment. The girl could not
+forget the sincere ring in Trevison's voice when he had told her that he
+would never go back to Hester Harvey. Arrayed against this declaration was
+the cold fact of Hester's visit, and Hester's statement that Trevison had
+sent for her. In this jumble of contradiction hope found a fertile field.
+
+If Corrigan had anticipated that the knowledge of Hester's visit to
+Trevison would have the effect of centering Rosalind's interest on him, he
+had erred. Corrigan was magnetic; the girl felt the lure of him. In his
+presence she was continually conscious of his masterfulness, with a
+dismayed fear that she would yield to it. She knew this sensation was not
+love, for it lacked the fire and the depth of the haunting, breathless
+surge of passion that she had felt when she had held Trevison off the day
+when he had declared his love for her--that she felt whenever she thought
+of him. But with Trevison lost to her--she did not know what would happen,
+then. For the present her resentment was sufficient to keep her mind
+occupied.
+
+She had a dread of meeting Corrigan this morning. Also, Agatha's continued
+deprecatory speeches had begun to annoy her, and at ten o'clock she
+ordered one of the men to saddle her horse.
+
+She rode southward, following a trail that brought her to Levins' cabin.
+The cabin was built of logs, smoothly hewn and tightly joined, situated at
+the edge of some timber in a picturesque spot at a point where a shallow
+creek doubled in its sweep toward some broken country west of Manti.
+
+Rosalind had visited Mrs. Levins many times. The warmth of her welcome on
+her first visit had resulted in a quick intimacy which, with an immediate
+estimate of certain needs by Rosalind, had brought her back in the role of
+Lady Bountiful. "Chuck" and "Sissy" Levins welcomed her vociferously as
+she splashed across the river to the door of the cabin this morning.
+
+"You're clean spoilin' them, Miss Rosalind!" declared the mother, watching
+from the doorway; "they've got so they expect you to bring them a present
+every time you come."
+
+Sundry pats and kisses sufficed to assuage the pangs of disappointment
+suffered by the children, and shortly afterward Rosalind was inside the
+cabin, talking with Mrs. Levins, and watching Clay, who was painstakingly
+mending a breach in his cartridge belt.
+
+Rosalind had seen Clay once only, and that at a distance, and she stole
+interested glances at him. There was a certain attraction in Clay's lean
+face, with its cold, alert furtiveness, but it was an attraction that bred
+chill instead of warmth, for his face revealed a wild, reckless,
+intolerant spirit, remorseless, contemptuous of law and order. Several
+times she caught him watching her, and his narrowed, probing glances
+disconcerted her. She cut her visit short because of his presence, and
+when she rose to go he turned in his chair.
+
+"You like this country, ma'am?"
+
+"Well--yes. But it is much different, after the East."
+
+"Some smoother there, eh? Folks are slicker?"
+
+She eyed him appraisingly, for there was an undercurrent of significance
+in his voice. She smiled. "Well--I suppose so. You see, competition is
+keener in the East, and it rather sharpens one's wits, I presume."
+
+"H'm. I reckon you're right. This railroad has brought some _mighty_ slick
+ones here. Mighty slick an' gally." He looked at her truculently.
+"Corrigan's one of the slick ones. Friend of yours, eh?"
+
+"Clay!" remonstrated his wife, sharply.
+
+He turned on her roughly. "You keep out of this! I ain't meanin' nothin'
+wrong. But I reckon when anyone's got a sneakin' coyote for a friend an'
+don't know it, it's doin' 'em a good turn to spit things right out, frank
+an' fair.
+
+"This Corrigan ain't on the level, ma'am. Do you know what he's doin'?
+He's skinnin' the folks in this country out of about a hundred thousand
+acres of land. He's clouded every damn title. He's got a fake bill of sale
+to show that he bought the land years ago--which he didn't--an' he's got a
+little beast of a judge here to back him up in his play. They've done away
+with the original record of the land, an' rigged up another, which makes
+Corrigan's title clear. It's the rankest robbery that any man ever tried
+to pull off, an' if he's a friend of yourn you ought to cut him off your
+visitin' list!"
+
+"How do you know that? Who told you?" asked the girl, her face whitening,
+for the man's vehemence and evident earnestness were convincing.
+
+"'Brand' Trevison told me. It hits him mighty damned hard. He had a deed
+to his land. Corrigan broke open his office an' stole it. Trevison's
+certain sure his deed was on the record, for he went to Dry Bottom with
+Buck Peters--the man he bought the land from--an' seen it wrote down on
+the record!" He laughed harshly. "There's goin' to be hell to pay here.
+Trevison won't stand for it--though the other gillies are advisin'
+caution. Caution hell! I'm for cleanin' the scum out! Do you know what
+Corrigan done, yesterday? He got thirty or so deputies--pluguglies that
+he's hired--an' hid 'em behind some flat-cars down on the level where
+they're erectin' some minin' machinery. He laid a trap for 'Firebrand,'
+expectin' him to come down there, rippin' mad because they was puttin' the
+minin' machinery up on his land, wi'out his permission. They was goin' to
+shoot him--Corrigan put 'em up to it. That Carson fello' heard it an' put
+'Firebrand' wise. An' the shootin' didn't come off. But that's only the
+beginnin'!"
+
+"Did Trevison tell you to tell me this?" The girl was stunned, amazed,
+incredulous. For her father was concerned in this, and if he had any
+knowledge that Corrigan was stealing land--if he _was_ stealing it--he was
+guilty as Corrigan. If he had no knowledge of it, she might be able to
+prevent the steal by communicating with him.
+
+"Trevison tell me?" laughed Levins, scornfully; "'Firebrand' ain't no
+pussy-kitten fighter which depends on women standin' between him an'
+trouble. I'm tellin' you on my own hook, so's that big stiff Corrigan
+won't get swelled up, thinkin' he's got a chance to hitch up with you in
+the matrimonial wagon. That guy's got murder in his heart, girl. Did you
+hear of me shootin' that sneak, Marchmont?" The girl had heard rumors of
+the affair; she nodded, and Levins went on. "It was Corrigan that hired me
+to do it--payin' me a thousand, cash." His wife gasped, and he spoke
+gently to her. "That's all right, Ma; it wasn't no cold-blooded
+affair--Jim Marchmont knowed a sister of mine pretty intimate, when he was
+out here years ago, an' I settled a debt that I thought I owed to her,
+that's all. I ain't none sorry, neither--I knowed him soon as Corrigan
+mentioned his name. But I hadn't no time to call his attention to
+things--I had to plug him, sudden. I'm sorry I've said this, ma'am, now
+that it's out," he said in a changed voice, noting the girl's distress;
+"but I felt you ought to know who you're dealin' with."
+
+Rosalind went out, swaying, her knees shaking. She heard Levins' wife
+reproving him; heard the man replying gruffly. She felt that it _must_ be
+so. She cared nothing about Corrigan, beyond a certain regret, but a wave
+of sickening fear swept over her at the growing conviction that her father
+_must_ know something of all this. And if, as Levins said, Corrigan was
+attempting to defraud these people, she felt that common justice required
+that she head him off, if possible. By defeating Corrigan's aim she would,
+of course, be aiding Trevison, and through him Hester Harvey, whom she had
+grown to despise, but that hatred should not deter her. She mounted her
+horse in a fever of anxiety and raced it over the plains toward Manti,
+determined to find Corrigan and force him to tell her the truth.
+
+Half way to town she saw a rider coming, and she slowed her own horse,
+taking the rider to be Corrigan, coming to the Bar B. She saw her mistake
+when the rider was within a hundred feet of her. She blushed, then paled,
+and started to pass the rider without speaking, for it was Trevison. She
+looked up when he urged Nigger against her animal, blocking the trail,
+frowning.
+
+"Look here," he said; "what's wrong? Why do you avoid me? I saw you on the
+Diamond K range the other day, and when I started to ride toward you you
+whipped up your horse. You tried to pass me just now. What have I done to
+deserve it?"
+
+She could not tell him about Hester Harvey, of course, and so she was
+silent, blushing a little. He took her manner as an indication of guilt,
+and gritted his teeth with the pain that the discovery caused him, for he
+had been hoping, too--that his suspicions of her were groundless.
+
+"I do not care to discuss the matter with you." She looked fairly at him,
+her resentment flaming in her eyes, fiercely indignant over his effrontery
+in addressing her in that manner, after his affair with Hester Harvey. She
+was going to help him, but that did not mean that she was going to blind
+herself to his faults, or to accept them mutely. His bold confidence in
+himself--which she had once admired--repelled her now; she saw in it the
+brazen egotism of the gross sensualist, seeking new victims.
+
+"I am in a hurry," she said, stiffly; "you will pardon me if I proceed."
+
+He jumped Nigger off the trail and watched with gloomy, disappointed eyes,
+her rapid progress toward Manti. Then he urged Nigger onward, toward
+Levins' cabin. "I'll have to erect another monument to my faith in women,"
+he muttered. And certain reckless, grim thoughts that had rioted in his
+mind since the day before, now assumed a definiteness that made his blood
+leap with eagerness.
+
+Later, when Rosalind sat opposite Corrigan at his desk, she found it hard
+to believe Levins' story. The big man's smooth plausibility made Levins'
+recital seem like the weird imaginings of a disordered mind, goaded to
+desperation by opposition. And again, his magnetism, his polite
+consideration for her feelings, his ingenuous, smiling deference--so
+sharply contrasted with Trevison's direct bluntness--swayed her, and she
+sat, perplexed, undecided, when he finished the explanation she had coldly
+demanded of him.
+
+"It is the invariable defense of these squatters," he added; "that they
+are being robbed. In this case they have embellished their hackneyed tale
+somewhat by dragging the court into it, and telling you that absurd story
+about the shooting of Marchmont. Could you tell me what possible interest
+I could have in wanting Marchmont killed? Don't you think, Miss Rosalind,
+that Levins' reference to his sister discloses the real reason for the
+man's action? Levins' story that I paid him a thousand dollars is a
+fabrication, pure and simple. I paid Jim Marchmont a thousand dollars that
+morning, which was the balance due him on our contract. The transaction
+was witnessed by Judge Lindman. After Marchmont was shot, Levins took the
+money from him."
+
+"Why wasn't Levins arrested?"
+
+"It seems that public opinion was with Levins. A great many people here
+knew of the ancient trouble between them." He passed from that, quickly.
+"The tale of the robbery of Trevison's office is childlike, for the reason
+that Trevison had no deed. Judge Lindman is an honored and respected
+official. And--" he added as a last argument "--your father is the
+respected head of a large and important railroad. Is it logical to suppose
+that he would lend his influence and his good name to any such ridiculous
+scheme?"
+
+She sighed, almost convinced. Corrigan went on, earnestly:
+
+"This man Trevison is a disturber--he has always been that. He has no
+respect for the law or property. He associates with the self-confessed
+murderer, Levins. He is a riotous, reckless, egotistical fool who, because
+the law stands in the way of his desires, wishes to trample it under foot
+and allow mob rule to take its place. Do you remember you mentioned that
+he once loved a woman named Hester Keyes? Well, he has brought Hester
+here--"
+
+She got up, her chin at a scornful angle. "I do not care to hear about his
+personal affairs." She went out, mounted her horse, and rode slowly out
+the Bar B trail. From a window Corrigan watched her, and as she vanished
+into the distance he turned back to his desk, meditating darkly.
+
+"Trevison put Levins up to that. He's showing yellow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+AND RIDES AGAIN--IN VAIN
+
+
+Rosalind's reflections as she rode toward the Bar B convinced her that
+there had been much truth in Corrigan's arraignment of Trevison. Out of
+her own knowledge of him, and from his own admission to her on the day
+they had ridden to Blakeley's the first time, she adduced evidence of his
+predilection for fighting, of his utter disregard for accepted
+authority--when that authority disagreed with his conception of justice;
+of his lawlessness when his desires were in question. His impetuosity was
+notorious, for it had earned him the sobriquet "Firebrand," which he could
+not have acquired except through the exhibition of those traits that she
+had enumerated.
+
+She was disappointed and spiritless when she reached the ranchhouse, and
+very tired, physically. Agatha's questions irritated her, and she ate
+sparingly of the food set before her, eager to be alone. In the isolation
+of her room she lay dumbly on the bed, and there the absurdity of Levins'
+story assailed her. It must be as Corrigan had said--her father was too
+great a man to descend to such despicable methods. She dropped off to
+sleep.
+
+When she awoke the sun had gone down, and her room was cheerless in the
+semi-dusk. She got up, washed, combed her hair, and much refreshed, went
+downstairs and ate heartily, Agatha watching her narrowly.
+
+"You are distraught, my dear," ventured her relative. "I don't think this
+country agrees with you. Has anything happened?"
+
+The girl answered evasively, whereat Agatha compressed her lips.
+
+"Don't you think that a trip East--"
+
+"I shall not go home this summer!" declared Rosalind, vehemently. And
+noting the flash in the girl's eyes, belligerent and defiant; her swelling
+breast, the warning brilliance of her eyes, misty with pent-up emotion,
+Agatha wisely subsided and the meal was finished in a strained silence.
+
+Later, Rosalind went out, alone, upon the porch where, huddled in a big
+rocker, she gazed gloomily at the lights of Manti, dim and distant.
+Something of the turmoil and the tumult of the town in its young strength
+and vigor, assailed her, contrasting sharply with the solemn peace of her
+own surroundings. Life had been a very materialistic problem to her,
+heretofore. She had lived it according to her environment, a mere
+onlooker, detached from the scheme of things. Something of the meaning of
+life trickled into her consciousness as she sat there watching the
+flickering lights of the town--something of the meaning of it all--the
+struggle of these new residents twanged a hidden chord of sympathy and
+understanding in her. She was able to visualize them as she sat there.
+Faces flashed before her--strong, stern, eager; the owner of each a-thrill
+with his ambition, going forward in the march of progress with definite
+aim, planning, plotting, scheming--some of them winning, others losing,
+but all obsessed with a feverish desire of success. The railroad, the
+town, the ranches, the new dam, the people--all were elements of a
+conflict, waged ceaselessly. She sat erect, her blood tingling. Blows were
+being struck, taken.
+
+"Oh," she cried, sharply; "it's a game! It's the spirit of the nation--to
+fight, to press onward, to win!" And in that moment she was seized with a
+throbbing sympathy for Trevison, and filled with a yearning that he might
+win, in spite of Corrigan, Hester Harvey, and all the others--even her
+father. For he was a courageous player of this "game." In him was typified
+the spirit of the nation.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rosalind might have added something to her thoughts had she known of the
+passions that filled Trevison when, while she sat on the porch of the Bar
+B ranchhouse, he mounted Nigger and sent him scurrying through the mellow
+moonlight toward Manti. He was playing the "game," with justice as his
+goal. The girl had caught something of the spirit of it all, but she had
+neglected to grasp the all-important element of the relations between men,
+without which laws, rules, and customs become farcical and ridiculous. He
+was determined to have justice. He knew well that Judge Graney's mission
+to Washington would result in failure unless the deed to his property
+could be recovered, or the original record disclosed. Even then, with a
+weak and dishonest judge on the bench the issue might be muddled by a mass
+of legal technicalities. The court order permitting Braman to operate a
+mine on his property goaded him to fury.
+
+He stopped at Hanrahan's saloon, finding Lefingwell there and talking with
+him for a few minutes. Lefingwell's docile attitude disgusted him--he said
+he had talked the matter over with a number of the other owners, and they
+had expressed themselves as being in favor of awaiting the result of his
+appeal. He left Lefingwell, not trusting himself to argue the question of
+the man's attitude, and went down to the station, where he found a
+telegram awaiting him. It was from Judge Graney:
+
+  Coming home. Case sent back to Circuit Court for hearing. Depend on
+  you to get evidence.
+
+Trevison crumpled the paper and shoved it savagely into a pocket. He stood
+for a long time on the station platform, in the dark, glowering at the
+lights of the town, then started abruptly and made his way into the
+gambling room of the _Plaza_, where he somberly watched the players. The
+rattle of chips, the whir of the wheel, the monotonous drone of the faro
+dealer, the hum of voices, some eager, some tense, others exultant or
+grumbling, the incessant jostling, irritated him. He went out the front
+door, stepped down into the street, and walked eastward. Passing an open
+space between two buildings he became aware of the figure of a woman, and
+he wheeled as she stepped forward and grasped his arm. He recognized her
+and tried to pass on, but she clung to him.
+
+"Trev!" she said, appealingly; "I want to talk with you. It's very
+important--really. Just a minute, Trev. Won't you talk _that_ long! Come
+to my room--where--"
+
+"Talk fast," he admonished, holding her off,"--and talk here."
+
+She struggled with him, trying to come closer, twisting so that her body
+struck his, and the contact brought a grim laugh out of him. He seized her
+by the shoulders and held her at arm's length. "Talk from there--it's
+safer. Now, if you've anything important--"
+
+"O Trev--please--" She laughed, almost sobbing, but forced the tears back
+when she saw derision blazing in his eyes.
+
+"I told you it was all over!" He pushed her away and started off, but he
+had taken only two steps when she was at his side again.
+
+"I saw you from my window, Trev. I--I knew it was you--I couldn't mistake
+you, anywhere. I followed you--saw you go into the _Plaza_. I came to warn
+you. Corrigan has planned to goad you into doing some rash thing so that
+he will have an excuse to jail or kill you!"
+
+"Where did you hear that?"
+
+"I--I just heard it. I was in the bank today, and I overheard him talking
+to a man--some officer, I think. Be careful, Trev--very careful, won't
+you?"
+
+"Careful as I can," he laughed, lowly. "Thank you." He started on again,
+and she grasped his arm. "Trev," she pleaded.
+
+"What's the use, Hester?" he said; "it can't be."
+
+"Well, God bless you, anyway, dear," she said chokingly.
+
+He passed on, leaving her in the shadows of the buildings, and walked far
+out on the plains. Making a circuit to avoid meeting the woman again, he
+skirted the back yards, stumbling over tin cans and debris in his
+progress. When he got to the shed where he had hitched Nigger he mounted
+and rode down the railroad tracks toward the cut, where an hour later he
+was joined by Clay Levins, who came toward him, riding slowly and
+cautiously.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Patrick Carson had wooed sleep unsuccessfully. For hours he lay on his cot
+in the tent, staring out through the flap at the stars. A vague unrest had
+seized him. He heard the hilarious din of Manti steadily decrease in
+volume until only intermittent noises reached his ears. But even when
+comparative peace came he was still wide awake.
+
+"I'll be gettin' the willies av I lay here much longer widout slape," he
+confided to his pillow. "Mebbe a turn down the track wid me dujeen wud do
+the thrick." He got up, lighted his pipe and strode off into the
+semi-gloom of the railroad track. He went aimlessly, paying little
+attention to objects around him. He passed the tents wherein the laborers
+lay--and smiled as heavy snores smote his ears. "They slape a heap harder
+than they worruk, bedad!" he observed, grinning. "Nothin' c'ud trouble a
+ginney's conscience, annyway," he scoffed. "But, accordin' to that they
+must be a heap on me own!" Which observation sent his thoughts to
+Corrigan. "Begob, there's a man! A domned rogue, if iver they was one!"
+
+He passed the tents, smoking thoughtfully. He paused when he came to the
+small buildings scattered about at quite a distance from the tents, then
+left the tracks and made his way through the deep alkali dust toward
+them.
+
+"Whativer wud Corrigan be askin' about the dynamite for? 'How much do ye
+kape av it?' he was askin'. As if it was anny av his business!"
+
+He stopped puffing at his pipe and stood rigid, watching with bulging
+eyes, for he saw the door of the dynamite shed move outward several
+inches, as though someone inside had shoved it. It closed again, slowly,
+and Carson was convinced that he had been seen. He was no coward, but a
+cold sweat broke out on him and his knees doubled weakly. For any man who
+would visit the dynamite shed around midnight, in this stealthy manner,
+must be in a desperate frame of mind, and Carson's virile imagination drew
+lurid pictures of a gun duel in which a stray shot penetrated the wall of
+the shed. He shivered at the roar of the explosion that followed; he even
+drew a gruesome picture of stretchers and mangled flesh that brought a
+groan out of him.
+
+But in spite of his mental stress he lunged forward, boldly, though his
+breath wheezed from his lungs in great gasps. His body lagged, but his
+will was indomitable, once he quit looking at the pictures of his
+imagination. He was at the door of the shed in a dozen strides.
+
+The lock had been forced; the hasp was hanging, suspended from a twisted
+staple. Carson had no pistol--it would have been useless, anyway.
+
+Carson hesitated, vacillating between two courses. Should he return for
+help, or should he secrete himself somewhere and watch? The utter
+foolhardiness of attempting the capture of the prowler single handed
+assailed him, and he decided on retreat. He took one step, and then stood
+rigid in his tracks, for a voice filtered thinly through the doorway,
+hoarse, vibrant:
+
+"Don't forget the fuses."
+
+Carson's lips formed the word: "Trevison!"
+
+Carson's breath came easier; his thoughts became more coherent, his
+recollection vivid; his sympathies leaped like living things. When his
+thoughts dwelt upon the scene at the butte during Trevison's visit while
+the mining machinery was being erected--the trap that Corrigan had
+prepared for the man--a grim smile wreathed his face, for he strongly
+suspected what was meant by Trevison's visit to the dynamite shed.
+
+He slipped cautiously around a corner of the shed, making no sound in the
+deep dust surrounding it, and stole back the way he had come, tingling.
+
+"Begob, I'll slape now--a little while!"
+
+As Carson vanished down the tracks a head was stuck out through the
+doorway of the shed and turned so that its owner could scan his
+surroundings.
+
+"All clear," he whispered.
+
+"Get going, then," said another voice, and two men, their faces muffled
+with handkerchiefs, bearing something that bulked their pockets oddly,
+slipped out of the door and fled noiselessly, like gliding shadows, down
+the track toward the cut.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rosalind had been asleep in the rocker. A cool night breeze, laden with
+the strong, pungent aroma of sage, sent a shiver over her and she awoke,
+to see that the lights of Manti had vanished. An eerie lonesomeness had
+settled around her.
+
+"Why, it must be nearly midnight!" she said. She got up, yawning, and
+stepped toward the door, wondering why Agatha had not called her. But
+Agatha had retired, resenting the girl's manner.
+
+Almost to the door, Rosalind detected movement in the ghostly semi-light
+that flooded the plains between the porch and the picturesque spot, more
+than a mile away, on which Levins' cabin stood. She halted at the door and
+watched, and when the moving object resolved into a horse, loping swiftly,
+she strained her eyes toward it. At first it seemed to have no rider, but
+when it had approached to within a hundred yards of her, she gasped,
+leaped off the porch and ran toward the horse. An instant later she stood
+at the animal's head, voicing her astonishment.
+
+"Why, it's Chuck Levins! Why on earth are you riding around at this hour
+of the night?"
+
+"Sissy's sick. Maw wants you to please come an' see what you can do--if it
+ain't too much trouble."
+
+"Trouble?" The girl laughed. "I should say not! Wait until I saddle my
+horse!"
+
+She ran to the porch and stole silently into the house, emerging with a
+small medicine case, which she stuck into a pocket of her coat. Once
+before she had had occasion to use her simple remedies on Sissy--an
+illness as simple as her remedies; but she could feel something of Mrs.
+Levins' concern for her offspring, and--and it was an ideal night for a
+gallop over the plains.
+
+It was almost midnight by the Levins' clock when she entered the cabin,
+and a quick diagnosis of her case with an immediate application of one of
+her remedies, brought results. At half past twelve Sissy was sleeping
+peacefully, and Chuck had dozed off, fully dressed, no doubt ready to
+re-enact his manly and heroic role upon call.
+
+It was not until Rosalind was ready to go that Mrs. Levins apologized for
+her husband's rudeness to his guest.
+
+"Clay feels awfully bitter against Corrigan. It's because Corrigan is
+fighting Trevison--and Trevison is Clay's friend--they've been like
+brothers. Trevison has done so much for us."
+
+Rosalind glanced around the cabin. She had meant to ask Chuck why his
+father had not come on the midnight errand, but had forebore. "Mr. Levins
+isn't here?"
+
+"Clay went away about nine o'clock." The woman did not meet Rosalind's
+direct gaze; she flushed under it and looked downward, twisting her
+fingers in her apron. Rosalind had noted a strangeness in the woman's
+manner when she had entered the cabin, but she had ascribed it to the
+child's illness, and had thought nothing more of it. But now it burst upon
+her with added force, and when she looked up again Rosalind saw there was
+an odd, strained light in her eyes--a fear, a dread--a sinister something
+that she shrank from. Rosalind remembered the killing of Marchmont, and
+had a quick divination of impending trouble.
+
+"What is it, Mrs. Levins? What has happened?"
+
+The woman gulped hard, and clenched her hands. Evidently, whatever her
+trouble, she had determined to bear it alone, but was now wavering.
+
+"Tell me, Mrs. Levins; perhaps I can help you?"
+
+"You can!" The words burst sobbingly from the woman. "Maybe you can
+prevent it. But, oh, Miss Rosalind, I wasn't to say anything--Clay told me
+not to. But I'm so afraid! Clay's so hot-headed, and Trevison is so
+daring! I'm afraid they won't stop at anything!"
+
+"But what is it?" demanded Rosalind, catching something of the woman's
+excitement.
+
+"It's about the machinery at the butte--the mining machinery. My God,
+you'll never say I told you--will you? But they're going to blow it up
+tonight--Clay and Trevison; they're going to dynamite it! I'm afraid there
+will be murder done!"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me before?" The girl stood rigid, white, breathless.
+
+"Oh, I ought to," moaned the woman. "But I was afraid you'd
+tell--Corrigan--somebody--and--and they'd get into trouble with the law!"
+
+"I won't tell--but I'll stop it--if there's time! For your sake. Trevison
+is the one to blame."
+
+She inquired about the location of the butte; the shortest trail, and then
+ran out to her horse. Once in the saddle she drew a deep breath and sent
+the animal scampering into the flood of moonlight.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Down toward the cut the two men ran, and when they reached a gully at a
+distance of several hundred feet from the dynamite shed they came upon
+their horses. Mounting, they rode rapidly down the track toward the butte
+where the mining machinery was being erected. They had taken the
+handkerchiefs off while they ran, and now Trevison laughed with the hearty
+abandon of a boy whose mischievous prank has succeeded.
+
+"That was easy. I thought I heard a noise, though, when you backed against
+the door and shoved it open."
+
+"Nobody usually monkeys around a dynamite shed at night," returned Levins.
+"Whew! There's enough of that stuff there to blow Manti to Kingdom
+Come--wherever that is."
+
+They rode boldly across the level at the base of the butte, for they had
+reconnoitered after meeting on the plains just outside of town, and knew
+Corrigan had left no one on guard.
+
+"It's a cinch," Levins declared as they dismounted from their horses in
+the shelter of a shoulder of the butte, about a hundred yards from where
+the corrugated iron building, nearly complete, loomed somberly on the
+level. "But if they'd ever get evidence that we done it--"
+
+Trevison laughed lowly, with a grim humor that made Levins look sharply at
+him. "That abandoned pueblo on the creek near your shack is built like a
+fortress, Levins."
+
+"What in hell has this job got to do with that dobie pile?" questioned the
+other.
+
+"Plenty. Oh, you're curious, now. But I'm going to keep you guessing for a
+day or two."
+
+"You'll go loco--give you time," scoffed Levins.
+
+"Somebody else will go crazy when this stuff lets go," laughed Trevison,
+tapping his pockets.
+
+Levins snickered. They trailed the reins over the heads of their horses,
+and walked swiftly toward the corrugated iron building. Halting in the
+shadow of it, they held a hurried conference, and then separated, Trevison
+going toward the engine, already set up, with its flimsy roof covering it,
+and working around it for a few minutes, then darting from it to a small
+building filled with tools and stores, and to a pile of machinery and
+supplies stacked against the wall of the butte. They worked rapidly,
+elusive as shadows in the deep gloom of the wall of the butte, and when
+their work was completed they met in the full glare of the moonlight near
+the corrugated iron building and whispered again.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lashing her horse over a strange trail, Rosalind Benham came to a thicket
+of gnarled fir-balsam and scrub oak that barred her way completely. She
+had ridden hard and her horse breathed heavily during the short time she
+spent looking about her. Her own breath was coming sharply, sobbing in her
+throat, but it was more from excitement than from the hazard and labor of
+the ride, for she had paid little attention to the trail, beyond giving
+the horse direction, trusting to the animal's wisdom, accepting the risks
+as a matter-of-course. It was the imminence of violence that had aroused
+her, the portent of a lawless deed that might result in tragedy. She had
+told Mrs. Levins that she was doing this thing for _her_ sake, but she
+knew better. She _did_ consider the woman, but she realized that her
+dominating passion was for the grim-faced young man who, discouraged,
+driven to desperation by the force of circumstances--just or not--was
+fighting for what he considered were his rights--the accumulated results
+of ten years of exile and work. She wanted to save him from this deed,
+from the results of it, even though there was nothing but condemnation in
+her heart for him because of it.
+
+"To the left of the thicket is a slope," Mrs. Levins had told her. She
+stopped only long enough to get her bearings, and at her panting, "Go!"
+the horse leaped. They were at the crest of the slope quickly, facing the
+bottom, yawning, deep, dark. She shut her eyes as the horse took it,
+leaning back to keep from falling over the animal's head, holding tightly
+to the pommel of the saddle. They got down, someway, and when she felt the
+level under them she lashed the horse again, and urged him around a
+shoulder of the precipitous wall that loomed above her, frowning and
+somber.
+
+She heard a horse whinny as she flashed past the shoulder, her own beast
+tearing over the level with great catlike leaps, but she did not look
+back, straining her eyes to peer into the darkness along the wall of the
+butte for sight of the buildings and machinery.
+
+She saw them soon after passing the shoulder, and exclaimed her thanks
+sharply.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"All set," said one of the shadowy figures near the corrugated iron
+building. A match flared, was applied to a stick of punk in the hands of
+each man, and again they separated, each running, applying the glowing
+wand here and there.
+
+Trevison's work took him longest, and when he leaped from the side of a
+mound of supplies Levins was already running back toward the shoulder
+where they had left their horses. They joined, then split apart, their
+weapons leaping into their hands, for they heard the rapid drumming of
+horse's hoofs.
+
+"They're coming!" panted Trevison, his jaws setting as he plunged on
+toward the shoulder of the butte. "Run low and duck at the flash of their
+guns!" he warned Levins.
+
+A wide swoop brought the oncoming horse around the shoulder of the butte
+into full view. As the moonlight shone, momentarily, on the rider,
+Trevison cried out, hoarsely:
+
+"God, it's a woman!"
+
+He leaped, at the words, out of the shadow of the butte into the moonlight
+of the level, straight into the path of the running horse, which at sight
+of him slid, reared and came to a halt, snorting and trembling. Trevison
+had recognized the girl; he flung himself at the horse, muttering:
+"Dynamite!" seized the beast by the bridle, forced its head around despite
+the girl's objections and incoherent pleadings--some phrases of which sank
+home, but were disregarded.
+
+"Don't!" she cried, fiercely, as he struck the animal with his fist to
+accelerate its movements. She was still crying to him, wildly,
+hysterically, as he got the animal's head around and slapped it sharply on
+the hip, his pistol crashing at its heels.
+
+The frightened animal clattered over the back trail, Trevison running
+after it. He reached Nigger, flung himself into the saddle, and raced
+after Levins, who was already far down the level, following Rosalind's
+horse. At a turn in the butte he came upon them both, their horses halted,
+the girl berating Levins, the man laughing lowly at her.
+
+"Don't!" she cried to Trevison as he rode up. "Please, Trevison--don't let
+_that_ happen! It's criminal; it's outlawry!"
+
+"Too late," he said grimly, and rode close to her to grasp the bridle of
+her horse. Standing thus, they waited--an age, to the girl, in reality
+only a few seconds. Then the deep, solemn silence of the night was split
+by a hollow roar, which echoed and re-echoed as though a thousand thunder
+storms had centered over their heads. A vivid flash, extended, effulgent,
+lit the sky, the earth rocked, the canyon walls towering above them seemed
+to sway and reel drunkenly. The girl covered her face with her hands.
+Another blast smote the night, reverberating on the heels of the other;
+there followed another and another, so quickly that they blended; then
+another, with a distinct interval between. Then a breathless, unreal calm,
+through which distant echoes rumbled; then a dead silence, shattered at
+last by a heavy, distant clatter, as though myriad big hailstones were
+falling on a pavement. And then another silence--the period of reeling
+calm after an earthquake.
+
+"O God!" wailed the girl; "it is horrible!"
+
+"You've got to get out of here--the whole of Manti will be here in a few
+minutes! Come on!"
+
+He urged Nigger farther down the canyon, and up a rocky slope that brought
+them to the mesa. The girl was trembling, her breath coming gaspingly. He
+faced her as they came to a halt, pityingly, with a certain dogged
+resignation in his eyes.
+
+"What brought you here? Who told you we were here?" he asked, gruffly.
+
+"It doesn't matter!" She faced him defiantly. "You have outraged the laws
+of your country tonight! I hope you are punished for it!"
+
+He laughed, derisively. "Well, you've seen; you know. Go and inform your
+friends. What I have done I did after long deliberation in which I
+considered fully the consequences to myself. Levins wasn't concerned in
+it, so you don't need to mention his name. Your ranch is in that
+direction, Miss Benham." He pointed southeastward, Nigger lunged, caught
+his stride in two or three jumps, and fled toward the southwest. His rider
+did not hear the girl's voice; it was drowned in clatter of hoofs as he
+and Levins rode.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+ANOTHER WOMAN RIDES
+
+
+Trevison rode in to town the next morning. On his way he went to the edge
+of the butte overlooking the level, and looked down upon the wreck and
+ruin he had caused. Masses of twisted steel and iron met his gaze; the
+level was littered with debris, which a gang of men under Carson was
+engaged in clearing away; a great section of the butte had been blasted
+out, earth, rocks, sand, had slid down upon much of the wreckage, partly
+burying it. The utter havoc of the scene brought a fugitive smile to his
+lips.
+
+He saw Carson waving a hand to him, and he answered the greeting, noting
+as he did so that Corrigan stood at a little distance behind Carson,
+watching. Trevison did not give him a second look, wheeling Nigger and
+sending him toward Manti at a slow lope. As he rode away, Corrigan called
+to Carson.
+
+"Your friend didn't seem to be much surprised."
+
+Carson turned, making a grimace while his back was yet toward Corrigan,
+but grinning broadly when he faced around.
+
+"Didn't he now? I wasn't noticin'. But, begorra, how c'ud he be surprised,
+whin the whole domned country was rocked out av its bed be the blast! Wud
+ye be expictin' him to fall over in a faint on beholdin' the wreck?"
+
+"Not he," said Corrigan, coldly; "he's got too much nerve for that."
+
+"Ain't he, now!" Carson looked guilelessly at the other. "Wud ye be havin'
+anny idee who done it?"
+
+Corrigan's eyes narrowed. "No," he said shortly, and turned away.
+
+Trevison's appearance in Manti created a stir. He had achieved a double
+result by his deed, for besides destroying the property and making it
+impossible for Corrigan to resume work for a considerable time, he had
+caused Manti's interest to center upon him sharply, having shocked into
+the town's consciousness a conception of the desperate battle that was
+being waged at its doors. For Manti had viewed the devastated butte early
+that morning, and had come away, seething with curiosity to get a glimpse
+of the man whom everybody secretly suspected of being the cause of it.
+Many residents of the town had known Trevison before--in half an hour
+after his arrival he was known to all. Public opinion was heavily in his
+favor and many approving comments were heard.
+
+"I ain't blamin' him a heap," said a man in the _Belmont_. "If things is
+as you say they are, there ain't much more that a _man_ could do!"
+
+"The laws is made for the guys with the coin an' the pull," said another,
+vindictively.
+
+"An' dynamite ain't carin' who's usin' it," said another, slyly. Both
+grinned. The universal sympathy for the "under dog" oppressed by Justice
+perverted or controlled, had here found expression.
+
+It was so all over Manti. Admiring glances followed Trevison; though he
+said no word concerning the incident; nor could any man have said, judging
+from the expression of his face, that he was elated. He had business in
+Manti--he completed it, and when he was ready to go he got on Nigger and
+loped out of town.
+
+"That man's nerve is as cold as a naked Eskimo at the North Pole,"
+commented an admirer. "If I'd done a thing like that I'd be layin' low to
+see if any evidence would turn up against me."
+
+"I reckon there ain't a heap of evidence," laughed his neighbor. "I expect
+everybody knows he done it, but knowin' an' provin' is two different
+things."
+
+A mile out of town Trevison met Corrigan. The latter halted his horse when
+he saw Trevison and waited for him to come up. The big man's face wore an
+ugly, significant grin.
+
+"You did a complete job," he said, eyeing the other narrowly. "And there
+doesn't seem to be any evidence. But look out! When a thing like that
+happens there's always somebody around to see it, and if I can get
+evidence against you I'll send you up for it!"
+
+He noted a slight quickening of Trevison's eyes at his mention of a
+witness, and a fierce exultation leaped within him.
+
+Trevison laughed, looking the other fairly between the eyes. Rosalind
+Benham hadn't informed on him. However, the day was not yet gone.
+
+"Get your evidence before you try to do any bluffing," he challenged. He
+spurred Nigger on, not looking back at his enemy.
+
+Corrigan rode to the laborers' tents, where he talked for a time with the
+cook. In the mess tent he stood with his back to a rough, pine-topped
+table, his hands on its edge. The table had not yet been cleared from the
+morning meal, for the cook had been interested in the explosion. He tried
+to talk of it with Corrigan, but the latter adroitly directed the
+conversation otherwise. The cook would have said they had a pleasant talk.
+Corrigan seemed very companionable this morning. He laughed a little; he
+listened attentively when the cook talked. After a while Corrigan fumbled
+in his pockets. Not finding a cigar, he looked eloquently at the cook's
+pipe, in the latter's mouth, belching much smoke.
+
+"Not a single cigar," he said. "I'm dying for a taste of tobacco."
+
+The cook took his pipe from his mouth and wiped the stem hastily on a
+sleeve. "If you don't mind I've been suckin' on it," he said, extending
+it.
+
+"I wouldn't deprive you of it for the world." Corrigan shifted his
+position, looked down at the table and smiled. "Luck, eh?" he said,
+picking up a black brier that lay on the table behind him. "Got plenty of
+tobacco?"
+
+The cook dove for a box in a corner and returned with a cloth sack,
+bulging. He watched while Corrigan filled the pipe, and grinned while his
+guest was lighting it.
+
+"Carson'll be ravin' today for forgettin' his pipe. He must have left it
+layin' on the table this mornin'--him bein' in such a rush to get down, to
+the explosion."
+
+"It's Carson's, eh?" Corrigan surveyed it with casual interest. "Well,"
+after taking a few puffs "--I'll say for Carson that he knows how to take
+care of it."
+
+He left shortly afterward, laying the pipe on the table where he had found
+it. Five minutes later he was in Judge Lindman's presence, leaning over
+the desk toward the other.
+
+"I want you to issue a warrant for Patrick Carson. I want him brought in
+here for examination. Charge him with being an accessory before the fact,
+or anything that seems to fit the case. But throw him into the cooler--and
+keep him there until he talks. He knows who broke into the dynamite shed,
+and therefore he knows who did the dynamiting. He's friendly with
+Trevison, and if we can make him admit he saw Trevison at the shed, we've
+got the goods. He warned Trevison the other day, when I had the deputies
+lined up at the butte, and I found his pipe this morning near the door of
+the dynamite shed. We'll make him talk, damn him!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Banker Braman had closed the door between the front and rear rooms, pulled
+down the shades of the windows, lighted the kerosene lamp, and by its
+wavering flicker was surveying his reflection in the small mirror affixed
+to one of the walls of the building. He was pleased, as the fatuous
+self-complacence of his look indicated, and carefully, almost fastidiously
+dressed, and he could not deny himself this last look into the mirror,
+even though he was now five minutes late with his appointment. The five
+minutes threatened to become ten, for, in adjusting his tie-pin it slipped
+from his fingers, struck the floor and vanished, as though an evil fate
+had gobbled it.
+
+He searched for it frenziedly, cursing lowly, but none the less viciously.
+It was quite by accident that when his patience was strained almost to the
+breaking point, he struck his hand against a board that formed part of the
+partition between his building and the courthouse next door, and tore a
+huge chunk of skin from the knuckles. He paid little attention to the
+injury, however, for the agitating of the board disclosed the glittering
+recreant, and he pounced upon it with the precision of a hawk upon its
+prey, snarling triumphantly.
+
+"I'll nail that damned board up, some day!" he threatened. But he knew he
+wouldn't, for by lying on the floor and pulling the board out a trifle, he
+could get a clear view of the interior of the courthouse, and could hear
+quite plainly, in spite of the presence of a wooden box resting against
+the wall on the other side. And some of the things that Braman had already
+heard through the medium of the loose board were really interesting, not
+to say instructive, to him.
+
+He was ten minutes late in keeping his appointment. He might have been
+even later without being in danger of receiving the censure he deserved.
+For the lady received him in a loose wrapper and gracefully disordered
+hair, a glance at which made Braman gasp in unfeigned admiration.
+
+"What's this?" he demanded with a pretense of fatherly severity, which he
+imagined became him very well in the presence of women. "Not ready yet,
+Mrs. Harvey?"
+
+The woman waved him to a chair with unsmiling unconcern; dropped into
+another, crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, her hands folded
+across the back of her head, her sleeves, wide and flaring, sliding down
+below her elbows. She caught Braman's burning stare of interest in this
+revelation of negligence, and smiled at him in faint derision.
+
+"I'm tired, Croft. I've changed my mind about going to the First
+Merchants' Ball. I'd much rather sit here and chin you--if you don't
+mind."
+
+"Not a bit!" hastily acquiesced the banker. "In fact, I like the idea of
+staying here much better. It is more private, you know." He grinned
+significantly, but the woman's smile of faint derision changed merely to
+irony, which held steadily, making Braman's cheeks glow crimson.
+
+"Well, then," she laughed, exulting in her power over him; "let's get
+busy. What do you want to chin about?"
+
+"I'll tell you after I've wet my whistle," said the banker, gayly. "I'm
+dry as a bone in the middle of the Sahara desert!"
+
+"I'll take mine 'straight,'" she laughed.
+
+Braman rang a bell. A waiter with glasses and a bottle appeared, entered,
+was paid, and departed, grinning without giving the banker any change from
+a ten dollar bill.
+
+The woman laughed immoderately at Braman's wolfish snarl.
+
+"Be a sport, Croft. Don't begrudge a poor waiter a few honestly earned
+dollars!"
+
+"And now, what has the loose-board telephone told you?" she asked, two
+hours later when flushed of face from frequent attacks on the
+bottle--Braman rather more flushed than she--they relaxed in their chairs
+after a tilt at poker in which the woman had been the victor.
+
+"You're sure you don't care for Trevison any more--that you're only taking
+his end of this because of what he's been to you in the past?" demanded
+the banker, looking suspiciously at her.
+
+"He told me he didn't love me any more. I couldn't want him after that,
+could I?"
+
+"I should think not." Braman's eyes glowed with satisfaction. But he
+hesitated, yielding when she smiled at him. "Damn it, I'd knife Corrigan
+for you!" he vowed, recklessly.
+
+"Save Trevison--that's all I ask. Tell me what you heard."
+
+"Corrigan suspects Trevison of blowing up the stuff at the butte--as
+everybody does, of course. He's determined to get evidence against him. He
+found Carson's pipe at the door of the dynamite shed this morning. Carson
+is a friend of Trevison's. Corrigan is going to have Judge Lindman issue a
+warrant for the arrest of Carson--on some charge--and they're going to
+jail Carson until he talks."
+
+The woman cursed profanely, sharply. "That's Corrigan's idea of a square
+deal. He promised me that no harm should come to Trevison." She got up and
+walked back and forth in the room, Braman watching her with passion lying
+naked in his eyes, his lips loose and moist.
+
+She stopped in front of him, finally. "Go home, Croft--there's a good boy.
+I want to think."
+
+"That's cruelty to animals," he laughed in a strained voice. "But I'll
+go," he added at signs of displeasure on her face. "Can I see you tomorrow
+night?"
+
+"I'll let you know." She held the door open for him, and permitted him to
+take her hand for an instant. He squeezed it hotly, the woman making a
+grimace of repugnance as she closed the door.
+
+Swiftly she changed from her loose gown to a simple, short-skirted affair,
+slipped on boots, a felt hat, gloves. Leaving the light burning, she
+slipped out into the hall and called to the waiter who had served her and
+Braman. By rewarding him generously she procured a horse, and a few
+minutes later she emerged from the building by a rear door, mounting the
+animal and sending it clattering out into the night.
+
+Twice she lost her way and rode miles before she recovered her sense of
+direction, and when she finally pulled the beast to a halt at the edge of
+the Diamond K ranchhouse gallery, midnight was not far away. The
+ranchhouse was dark. She smothered a gasp of disappointment as she crossed
+the gallery floor. She was about to hammer on the door when it swung open
+and Trevison stepped out, peered closely at her and laughed shortly.
+
+"It's you, eh?" he said. "I thought I told you--"
+
+She winced at his tone, but it did not lessen her concern for him.
+
+"It isn't that, Trev! And I don't care how you treat me--I deserve it! But
+I can't see them punish you--for what you did last night!" She felt him
+start, his muscles stiffen.
+
+"Something has turned up, then. You came to warn me? What is it?"
+
+"You were seen last night! They're going to arrest--"
+
+"So she squealed, did she?" he interrupted. He laughed lowly, bitterly,
+with a vibrant disappointment that wrung the woman's heart with sympathy.
+But her brain quickly grasped the significance of his words, and longing
+dulled her sense of honor. It was too good an opportunity to miss. "Bah! I
+expected it. She told me she would. I was a fool to dream otherwise!" He
+turned on Hester and grasped her by the shoulders, and her flesh deadened
+under his fingers.
+
+"Did she tell Corrigan?"
+
+"Yes." The woman told the lie courageously, looking straight into his
+eyes, though she shrank at the fire that came into them as he released her
+and laughed.
+
+"Where did you get your information?" His voice was suddenly sullen and
+cold.
+
+"From Braman."
+
+He started, and laughed in humorous derision.
+
+"Braman and Corrigan are blood brothers in this deal. You must have
+captivated the little sneak completely to make him lose his head like
+that!"
+
+"I did it for you, Trev--for you. Don't you see? Oh, I despise the little
+beast! But he dropped a hint one day when I was in the bank, and I
+deliberately snared him, hoping I might be able to gain information that
+would benefit you. And I have, Trev!" she added, trembling with a hope
+that his hasty judgment might result to her advantage. And how near she
+had come to mentioning Carson's name! If Trevison had waited for just
+another second before interrupting her! Fortune had played favorably into
+her hands tonight!
+
+"For you, boy," she said, slipping close to him, sinuously, whispering,
+knowing the "she" he had mentioned _must_ be Rosalind Benham. "Old friends
+are best, boy. At least they can be depended upon not to betray one. Trev;
+let me help you! I can, and I will! Why, I love you, Trev! And you need
+me, to help you fight these people who are trying to ruin you!"
+
+"You don't understand." Trevison's voice was cold and passionless. "It
+seems I can't _make_ you understand. I'm grateful for what you have done
+for me tonight--very grateful. But I can't live a lie, woman. I don't love
+you!"
+
+"But you love a woman who has delivered you into the hands of your
+enemies," she moaned.
+
+"I can't help it," he declared hoarsely. "I don't deny it. I would love
+her if she sent me to the gallows, and stood there, watching me die!"
+
+The woman bowed her head, and dropped her hands listlessly to her sides.
+In this instant she was thinking almost the same words that Rosalind
+Benham had murmured on her ride to Blakeley's, when she had discovered
+Trevison's identity: "I wonder if Hester Keyes knows what she has
+missed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+A MAN ERRS--AND PAYS
+
+
+For a time Trevison stood on the gallery, watching the woman as she faded
+into the darkness toward Manti, and then he laughed mirthlessly and went
+into the house, emerging with a rifle and saddle. A few minutes later he
+rode Nigger out of the corral and headed him southwestward. Shortly after
+midnight he was at the door of Levins' cabin. The latter grinned with
+feline humor after they held a short conference.
+
+"That's right," he said; "you don't need any of the boys to help you pull
+_that_ off--they'd mebbe go to actin' foolish an' give the whole snap
+away. Besides, I'm a heap tickled to be let in on that sort of a
+jamboree!" There followed an interval, during which his grin faded. "So
+she peached on you, eh? She told my woman she wouldn't. That's a woman,
+ain't it? How's a man to tell about 'em?"
+
+"That's a secret of my own that I am not ready to let you in on. Don't
+tell your wife where you are going _tonight_."
+
+"I ain't reckonin' to. I'll be with you in a jiffy!" He vanished into the
+cabin, reappeared, ran to the stable, and rode out to meet Trevison.
+Together they were swallowed up by the plains.
+
+At eight o'clock in the morning Corrigan came out of the dining-room of
+his hotel and stopped at the cigar counter. He filled his case, lit one,
+and stood for a moment with an elbow on the glass of the show case,
+smoking thoughtfully.
+
+"That was quite an accident you had at your mine. Have you any idea who
+did it?" asked the clerk, watching him furtively.
+
+Corrigan glanced at the man, his lips curling.
+
+"You might guess," he said through his teeth.
+
+"That fellow Trevison is a bad actor," continued the clerk. "And say," he
+went on, confidentially; "not that I want to make you feel bad, but the
+majority of the people of this town are standing with him in this deal.
+They think you are not giving the land-owners a square deal. Not that I'm
+'knocking' _you_," the clerk denied, flushing at the dark look Corrigan
+threw him. "That's merely what I hear. Personally, I'm for you. This town
+needs men like you, and it can get along without fellows like Trevison."
+
+"Thank you," smiled Corrigan, disgusted with the man, but feeling that it
+might be well to cultivate such ingratiating interest. "Have a cigar."
+
+"I'll go you. Yes, sir," he added, when he had got the weed going; "this
+town can get along without any Trevisons. These sagebrush rummies out here
+give me a pain. What this country needs is less brute force and more
+brains!" He drew his shoulders erect as though convinced that he was not
+lacking in the particular virtue to which he had referred.
+
+"You are right," smiled Corrigan, mildly. "Brains are all important. A
+hotel clerk must be well supplied. I presume you see and hear a great many
+things that other people miss seeing and hearing." Corrigan thought this
+thermometer of public opinion might have other information.
+
+"You've said it! We've got to keep our wits about us. There's very little
+escapes us." He leered at Corrigan's profile. "That's a swell Moll in
+number eleven, ain't it?"
+
+"What do you know about her?" Corrigan's face was inexpressive.
+
+"Oh say now!" The clerk guffawed close to Corrigan's ear without making
+the big man wink an eyelash. "You don't mean to tell me that you ain't
+_on_! I saw you steer to her room one night--the night she came here. And
+once or twice, since. But of course us hotel clerks don't see anything!
+She is down on the register as Mrs. Harvey. But say! You don't see any
+married women running around the country dressed like her!"
+
+"She may be a widow."
+
+"Well, yes, maybe she might. But she shows speed, don't she?" He
+whispered. "You're a pretty good friend of mine, now, and maybe if I'd
+give you a tip you'd throw something in my way later on--eh?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Oh, you might start a hotel here--or something. And I'm thinking of
+blowing this joint. This town's booming, and it can stand a swell hotel in
+a few months."
+
+"You're on--if I build a hotel. Shoot!"
+
+The clerk leaned closer, whispering: "She receives other men. You're not
+the only one."
+
+"Who?"
+
+The clerk laughed, and made a funnel of one hand. "The banker across the
+street--Braman."
+
+Corrigan bit his cigar in two, and slowly spat that which was left in his
+mouth into a cuspidor. He contrived to smile, though it cost him an
+effort, and his hands were clenched.
+
+"How many times has he been here?"
+
+"Oh, several."
+
+"When was he here last?"
+
+"Last night." The clerk laughed. "Looked half stewed when he left. Kinda
+hectic, too. Him and her must have had a tiff, for he left early. And
+after he'd gone--right away after--she sent one of the waiters out for a
+horse."
+
+"Which way did she go?"
+
+"West--I watched her; she went the back way, from here."
+
+Corrigan smiled and went out. The expression of his face was such as to
+cause the clerk to mutter, dazedly: "He didn't seem to be a whole lot
+interested. I guess I must have sized him up wrong."
+
+Corrigan stopped at his office in the bank, nodding curtly to Braman.
+Shortly afterward he got up and went to the courthouse. He had ordered
+Judge Lindman to issue a warrant for Carson the previous morning, and had
+intended to see that it was served. But a press of other matters had
+occupied his attention until late in the night.
+
+He tried the front door of the courthouse, to find it locked. The rear
+door was also locked. He tried the windows--all were fastened securely.
+Thinking the Judge still sleeping he went back to his office and spent an
+hour going over some correspondence. At the end of that time he visited
+the courthouse again. Angered, he went around to the side and burst the
+flimsy door in, standing in the opening, glowering, for the Judge's cot
+was empty, and the Judge nowhere to be seen.
+
+Corrigan stalked through the building, cursing. He examined the cot, and
+discovered that it had been slept in. The Judge must have risen early.
+Obviously, there was nothing to do but to wait. Corrigan did that,
+impatiently. For a long time he sat in the chair at his desk, watching
+Braman, studying him, scowling, rage in his heart. "If he's up to any
+dirty work, I'll choke him until his tongue hangs out a yard!" was a
+mental threat that he repeated many times. "But he's just mush-headed over
+the woman, I guess--he's that kind of a fool!"
+
+At ten o'clock Corrigan jumped on his horse and rode out to the butte
+where the laborers were working, clearing away the debris from the
+explosion. No one there had seen Judge Lindman. Corrigan rode back to
+town, fuming with rage. Finding some of the deputies he sent them out to
+search for the Judge. One by one they came in and reported their failure.
+At six-thirty, after the arrival of the evening train from Dry Bottom,
+Corrigan was sitting at his desk, his face black with wrath, reading for
+the third or fourth time a letter that he had spread out on the desk
+before him:
+
+  "MR. JEFFERSON CORRIGAN:
+
+  "I feel it is necessary for me to take a short rest. Recent
+  excitement in Manti has left me very nervous and unstrung. I shall be
+  away from Manti for about two weeks, I think. During my absence any
+  pending litigation must be postponed, of course."
+
+The letter was signed by Judge Lindman, and postmarked "Dry Bottom."
+
+Corrigan got up after a while and stuffed the letter into a pocket. He
+went out, and when he returned, Braman had gone out also--to supper,
+Corrigan surmised. When the banker came in an hour later, Corrigan was
+still seated at his desk. The banker smiled at him, and Corrigan motioned
+to him.
+
+Corrigan's voice was silky. "Where were you last night, Braman?"
+
+The banker's face whitened; his thoughts became confused, but instantly
+cleared when he observed from the expression of the big man's face that
+the question was, apparently, a casual one. But he drew his breath
+tremulously. One could never be sure of Corrigan.
+
+"I spent the night here--in the back room."
+
+"Then you didn't see the Judge last night--or hear him?"
+
+"No."
+
+Corrigan drew the Judge's letter from the pocket and passed it over to
+Braman, watching his face steadily as he read. He saw a quick stain appear
+in the banker's cheeks, and his own lips tightened.
+
+The banker coughed before he spoke. "Wasn't that a rather abrupt
+leave-taking?"
+
+"Yes--rather," said Corrigan, dryly. "You didn't hear him walking about
+during the night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You're rather a heavy sleeper, eh? There is only a thin board partition
+between this building and the courthouse."
+
+"He must have left after daylight. Of course, any noise he might have made
+after that I wouldn't have noticed."
+
+"No, of course not," said Corrigan, passionlessly. "Well--he's gone." He
+seemed to have dismissed the matter from his mind and Braman sighed with
+relief. But he watched Corrigan narrowly during the remainder of the time
+he stayed in the office, and when he went out, Braman shook a vindictive
+fist at his back.
+
+"Worry, damn you!" he sneered. "I don't know what was in Judge Lindman's
+mind, but I hope he never comes back! That will help to repay you for that
+knockdown!"
+
+Corrigan went over to the _Castle_ and ate supper. He was preoccupied and
+deliberate, for he was trying to weave a complete fabric out of the
+threads of Braman's visits to Hester Harvey; Hester's ride westward, and
+Judge Lindman's abrupt departure. He had a feeling that they were in some
+way connected.
+
+At a little after seven he finished his meal, went upstairs and knocked at
+the door of Hester Harvey's room. He stepped inside when she opened the
+door, and stood, both hands in the pockets of his trousers, looking at her
+with a smile of repressed malignance.
+
+"Nice night for a ride, wasn't it?" he said, his lips parting a very
+little to allow the words to filter through.
+
+The woman flashed a quick, inquiring look at him, saw the passion in his
+eyes, the gleam of malevolent antagonism, and she set herself against it.
+For her talk with Trevison last night had convinced her of the futility of
+hope. She had gone out of his life as a commonplace incident slips into
+the oblivion of yesteryear. Worse--he had refused to recall it. It hurt
+her, this knowledge--his rebuff. It had aroused cold, wanton passions in
+her--she had become a woman who did not care. She met Corrigan's gaze with
+a look of defiant mockery.
+
+"Swell. I enjoyed every minute of it. Won't you sit down?"
+
+He held himself back, grinning coldly, for the woman's look had goaded him
+to fury.
+
+"No," he said; "I'll stand. I won't be here a minute. You saw Trevison
+last night, eh? You warned him that I was going to have Carson arrested."
+He had hazarded this guess, for it had seemed to him that it must be the
+solution to the mystery, and when he caught the quick, triumphant light in
+the woman's eyes at his words he knew he had not erred.
+
+"Yes," she said; "I saw him, and I told him--what Braman told me." She saw
+his eyes glitter and she laughed harshly. "That's what you wanted to know,
+isn't it, Jeff--what Braman told me? Well, you know it. I knew you
+couldn't play square with me. You thought you could dupe me--_again_,
+didn't you? Well, you didn't, for I snared Braman and pumped him dry. He's
+kept me posted on your movements; and his little board telephone--Ha, ha!
+that makes you squirm, doesn't it? But it was all wasted effort--Trevison
+won't have me--he's through. And I'm through. I'm not going to try any
+more. I'm going back East, after I get rested. You fight it out with
+Trevison. But I warn you, he'll beat you--and I wish he would! As for that
+beast, Braman, I wish--Ah, let him go, Jeff," she advised, noting the cold
+fury in his eyes.
+
+"That's all right," he said with a dry laugh. "You and Braman have done
+well. It hasn't done me any harm, and so we'll forget about it. What do
+you say to having a drink--and a talk. As in old times, eh?" He seemed
+suddenly to have conquered his passion, but the queer twitching of his
+lips warned the woman, and when he essayed to move toward her, smiling
+pallidly, she darted to the far side of a stand near the center of the
+room, pulled out a drawer, produced a small revolver and leveled it at
+him, her eyes wide and glittering with menace.
+
+"Stay where you are, Jeff!" she ordered. "There's murder in your heart,
+and I know it. But I don't intend to be the victim. I'll shoot if you come
+one step nearer!"
+
+He smirked at her, venomously. "All right," he said. "You're wise. But get
+out of town on the next train."
+
+"I'll go when I get ready--you can't scare me. Let me alone or I'll go to
+Rosalind Benham and let her in on the whole scheme."
+
+"Yes you will--not," he laughed. "If I know anything about you, you won't
+do anything that would give Miss Benham to Trevison."
+
+"That's right; I'd rather see her married to you--that would be the
+refinement of cruelty!"
+
+He laughed sneeringly and stepped out of the door. Waiting a short time,
+the woman heard his step in the hall. Then she darted to the door, locked
+it, and leaned against it, panting.
+
+"I've done it now," she murmured. "Braman--Well, it serves him right!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan stopped in the barroom and got a drink. Then he walked to the
+front door and stood in it for an instant, finally stepping down into the
+street. Across the street in the banking room he saw a thin streak of
+light gleaming through a crevice in the doorway that led from the banking
+room to the rear. The light told him that Braman was in the rear room.
+Selecting a moment when the street in his vicinity was deserted, Corrigan
+deliberately crossed, standing for a moment in the shadow of the bank
+building, looking around him. Then he slipped around the building and
+tapped cautiously on the rear door. An instant later he was standing
+inside the room, his back against the door. Braman, arrayed as he had been
+the night before, had opened the door. He had been just ready to go when
+he heard Corrigan's knock.
+
+"Going out, Croft?" said Corrigan pleasantly, eyeing the other intently.
+"All lit up, too! You're getting to be a gay dog, lately."
+
+There was nothing in Corrigan's bantering words to bring on that sudden
+qualm of sickening fear that seized the banker. He knew it was his guilt
+that had done it--guilt and perhaps a dread of Corrigan's rage if he
+_should_ learn of his duplicity. But that word "lately"! If it had been
+uttered with any sort of an accent he might have been suspicious. But it
+had come with the bantering ring of the others, with no hint of special
+significance. And Braman was reassured.
+
+"Yes, I'm going out." He turned to the mirror on the wall. "I'm getting
+rather stale, hanging around here so much."
+
+"That's right, Croft. Have a good time. How much money is there in the
+safe?"
+
+"Two or three thousand dollars." The banker turned from the glass. "Want
+some? Ha, ha!" he laughed at the other's short nod; "there are other gay
+dogs, I guess! How much do you want?"
+
+"All you've got?"
+
+"All! Jehoshaphat! You must have a big deal on tonight!"
+
+"Yes, big," said Corrigan evenly. "Get it."
+
+He followed the banker into the banking room, carefully closing the door
+behind him, so that the light from the rear room could not penetrate.
+"That's all right," he reassured the banker as the latter noticed the
+action; "this isn't a public matter."
+
+He stuffed his pockets with the money the banker gave him, and when the
+other tried to close the door of the safe he interposed a restraining
+hand, laughing:
+
+"Leave it open, Croft. It's empty now, and a cracksman trying to get into
+it would ruin a perfectly good safe, for nothing."
+
+"That's right."
+
+They went into the rear room again, Corrigan last, closing the door behind
+him. Braman went again to the glass, Corrigan standing silently behind
+him.
+
+Standing before the glass, the banker was seized with a repetition of the
+sickening fear that had oppressed him at Corrigan's words upon his
+entrance. It seemed to him that there was a sinister significance behind
+Corrigan's present silence. A tension came between them, portentous of
+evil. Braman shivered, but the silence held. The banker tried to think of
+something to say--his thoughts were rioting in chaos, a dumb, paralyzing
+terror had seized him, his lips stuck together, the facial muscles
+refusing their office. He dropped his hands to his sides and stared into
+the glass, noting the ghastly pallor that had come over his face--the
+dull, whitish yellow of muddy marble. He could not turn, his legs were
+quivering. He knew it was conscience--only that. And yet Corrigan's
+ominous silence continued. And now he caught his breath with a shuddering
+gasp, for he saw Corrigan's face reflected in the glass, looking over his
+shoulder--a mirthless smirk on it, the eyes cold, and dancing with a
+merciless and cunning purpose. While he watched, he saw Corrigan's lips
+open:
+
+"Where's the board telephone, Braman?"
+
+The banker wheeled, then. He tried to scream--the sound died in a gasping
+gurgle as Corrigan leaped and throttled him. Later, he fought to loosen
+the grip of the iron fingers at his throat, twisting, squirming, threshing
+about the room in his agony. The grip held, tightened. When the banker was
+quite still Corrigan put out the light, went into the banking room, where
+he scattered the papers and books in the safe all around the room. Then he
+twisted the lock off the door, using an iron bar that he had noticed in a
+corner when he had come in, and stepped out into the shadow of the
+building.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+FIRST PRINCIPLES
+
+
+Judge Lindman shivered, though a merciless, blighting sun beat down on the
+great stone ledge that spread in front of the opening, smothering him with
+heat waves that eddied in and out, and though the interior of the
+low-ceilinged chamber pulsed with the fetid heat sucked in from the plains
+generations before. The adobe walls, gray-black in the subdued light, were
+dry as powder and crumbling in spots, the stone floor was exposed in many
+places; there was a strange, sickening odor, as though the naked,
+perspiring bodies of inhabitants in ages past had soaked the walls and
+floor with the man-scent, and intervening years of disuse had mingled
+their musty breath with it. But for the presence of the serene-faced,
+steady-eyed young man who leaned carelessly against the wall outside,
+whose shoulder and profile he could see, the Judge might have yielded
+completely to the overpowering conviction that he was dreaming, and that
+his adventures of the past twelve hours were horrors of his imagination.
+But he knew from the young man's presence at the door that his experience
+had been real enough, and the knowledge kept his brain out of the
+threatening chaos.
+
+Some time during the night he had awakened on his cot in the rear room of
+the courthouse to hear a cold, threatening voice warning him to silence.
+He had recognized the voice, as he had recognized it once before, under
+similar conditions. He had been gagged, his hands tied behind him. Then he
+had been lifted, carried outside, placed on the back of a horse, in front
+of his captor, and borne away in the darkness. They had ridden many miles
+before the horse came to a halt and he was lifted down. Then he had been
+forced to ascend a sharp slope; he could hear the horse clattering up
+behind them. But he had not been able to see anything in the darkness,
+though he felt he was walking along the edge of a cliff. The walk had
+ended abruptly, when his captor had forced him into his present quarters
+with a gruff admonition to sleep. Sleep had come hard, and he had done
+little of it, napping merely, sitting on the stone floor, his back against
+the wall, most of the time watching his captor. He had talked some, asking
+questions which his captor ignored. Then a period of oblivion had come,
+and he had awakened to the sunshine. For an hour he had sat where he was,
+looking out at his captor and blinking at the brilliant sunshine. But he
+had asked no questions since awakening, for he had become convinced of the
+meaning of all this. But he was intensely curious, now.
+
+"Where have you brought me?" he demanded of his jailor.
+
+"You're awake, eh?" Trevison grinned as he wheeled and looked in at his
+prisoner. "This," he waved a hand toward the ledge and its surroundings,
+"is an Indian pueblo, long deserted. It makes an admirable prison, Judge.
+It is also a sort of a fort. There is only one vulnerable point--the slope
+we came up last night. I'll take you on a tour of examination, if you
+like. And then you must return here, to stay until you disclose the
+whereabouts of the original land record."
+
+The Judge paled, partly from anger, partly from a fear that gripped him.
+
+"This is an outrage, Trevison! This is America!"
+
+"Is it?" The young man smiled imperturbably. "There have been times during
+the past few weeks when I doubted it, very much. It _is_ America, though,
+but it is a part of America that the average American sees little of--that
+he knows little of. As little, let us say, as he knows of the weird
+application of its laws--as applied by _some_ judges." He smiled as
+Lindman winced. "I have given up hoping to secure justice in the regular
+way, and so we are in the midst of a reversion to first principles--which
+may lead us to our goal."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That I _must_ have the original record, Judge, I mean to have it."
+
+"I deny--"
+
+"Yes--of course. Deny, if you like. We shan't argue. Do you want to
+explore the place? There will be plenty of time for talk."
+
+He stepped aside as the Judge came out, and grinned broadly as he caught
+the Judge's shrinking look at a rifle he took up as he turned. It had been
+propped against the wall at his side. He swung it to the hollow of his
+left elbow. "Your knowledge of firearms convinces you that you can't run
+as fast as a rifle bullet, doesn't it, Judge?"
+
+The Judge's face indicated that he understood.
+
+"Ever make the acquaintance of an Indian pueblo, Judge?"
+
+"No. I came West only a year ago, and I have kept pretty close to my
+work."
+
+"Well, you'll feel pretty intimate with this one by the time you leave
+it--if you're obstinate," laughed Trevison. He stood still and watched the
+Judge. The latter was staring hard at his surroundings, perhaps with
+something of the awed reverence that overtakes the tourist when for the
+first time he views an ancient ruin.
+
+The pueblo seemed to be nothing more than a jumble of adobe boxes piled in
+an indiscriminate heap on a gigantic stone level surmounting the crest of
+a hill. A sheer rock wall, perhaps a hundred feet in height, descended to
+the surrounding slopes; the latter sweeping down to join the plains. A
+dust, light, dry, and feathery lay thickly on the adobe boxes on the
+surrounding ledge on the slopes, like a gray ash sprinkled from a giant
+sifter. Cactus and yucca dotted the slopes, thorny, lancelike, repellent;
+lava, dull, hinting of volcanic fire, filled crevices and depressions, and
+huge blocks of stone, detached in the progress of disintegration, were
+scattered about.
+
+"It has taken ages for this to happen!" the Judge heard himself
+murmuring.
+
+Trevison laughed lowly. "So it has, Judge. Makes you think of your school
+days, doesn't it? You hardly remember it, though. You have a hazy sort of
+recollection of a print of a pueblo in a geography, or in a geological
+textbook, but at the time you were more interested in Greek roots, the
+Alps, Louis Quinze, the heroes of mythology, or something equally foreign,
+and you forgot that your own country might hold something of interest for
+you. But the history of these pueblo towns must be pretty interesting, if
+one could get at it. All that I have heard of it are some pretty weird
+legends. There can be no doubt, I suppose, that the people who inhabited
+these communal houses had laws to govern them--and judges to apply the
+laws. And I presume that then, as now, the judges were swayed by powerful
+influences in--"
+
+The Judge glared at his tormentor. The latter laughed.
+
+"It is reasonable to presume, too," he went on, "that in some cases the
+judges rendered some pretty raw decisions. And carrying the supposition
+further, we may believe that then, as now, the poor downtrodden
+proletariat got rather hot under the collar. There are always some
+hot-tempered fools among all classes and races that do, you know. They
+simply can't stand the feel of the iron heel of the oppressor. Can you
+picture a hot-tempered fool of that tribe abducting a judge of the court
+of his people and carrying him away to some uninhabited place, there to
+let him starve until he decided to do the right thing?"
+
+"Starve!" gasped the Judge.
+
+"The chambers and tunnels connecting these communal houses--they look like
+mud boxes, don't they, Judge? And there isn't a soul in any of them--nor a
+bite to eat! As I was about to remark, the chambers and tunnels and the
+passages connecting these places are pretty bare and cheerless--if we
+except scorpions, horned toads, centipedes, tarantulas--and other equally
+undesirable occupants. Not a pleasant place to sojourn in until--How long
+can a man live without eating, Judge? You know, of course, that the
+Indians selected an elevated and isolated site, such as this, because of
+its strategical advantages? This makes an ideal fort. Nobody can get into
+it except by negotiating the slope we came up last night. And a rifle in
+the hands of a man with a yearning to use it would make _that_ approach
+pretty unsafe, wouldn't it?"
+
+"My God!" moaned the Judge; "you talk like a man bereft of his senses!"
+
+"Or like a man who is determined not to be robbed of his rights," added
+Trevison. "Well, come along. We won't dwell on such things if they depress
+you."
+
+He took the Judge's arm and escorted him. They circled the broad stone
+ledge. It ran in wide, irregular sweeps in the general outline of a huge
+circle, surrounded by the dust-covered slopes melting into the plains, so
+vast that the eye ached in an effort to comprehend them. Miles away they
+could see smoke befouling the blue of the sky. The Judge knew the smoke
+came from Manti, and he wondered if Corrigan were wondering over his
+disappearance. He mentioned that to Trevison, and the latter grinned
+faintly at him.
+
+"I forgot to mention that to you. It was all arranged last night. Clay
+Levins went to Dry Bottom on a night train. He took with him a letter,
+which he was to mail at Dry Bottom, explaining your absence to Corrigan.
+Needless to say, your signature was forged. But I did so good a job that
+Corrigan will not suspect. Corrigan will get the letter by tonight. It
+says that you are going to take a long rest."
+
+The Judge gasped and looked quickly at Trevison. The young man's face was
+wreathed in a significant grin.
+
+"In the first analysis, this looks like a rather strange proceeding," said
+Trevison. "But if you get deeper into it you see its logic. You know where
+the original record is. I want it. I mean to have it. One life--a dozen
+lives--won't stop me. Oh, well, we won't talk about it if you're going to
+shudder that way."
+
+He led the Judge up a flimsy, rotted ladder to a flat roof, forcing him to
+look into a chamber where vermin fled at their appearance. Then through
+numerous passages, low, narrow, reeking with a musty odor that nauseated
+the Judge; on narrow ledges where they had to hug the walls to keep from
+falling, and then into an open court with a stone floor, stained dark, in
+the center a huge oblong block of stone, surmounting a pyramid, appalling
+in its somber suggestiveness.
+
+"The sacrificial altar," said Trevison, grimly. "These stains here,
+are--"
+
+He stopped, for the Judge had turned his back.
+
+Trevison led him away. He had to help him down the ladder each time they
+descended, and when they reached the chamber from which they had started
+the Judge was white and shaking.
+
+Trevison pushed him inside and silently took a position at the door. The
+Judge sank to the floor of the chamber, groaning.
+
+The hours dragged slowly. Trevison changed his position twice. Once he
+went away, but returned in a few minutes with a canteen, from which he
+drank, deeply. The Judge had been without food or water since the night
+before, and thirst tortured him. The gurgle of the water as it came out of
+the canteen, maddened him.
+
+"I'd like a drink, Trevison."
+
+"Of course. Any man would."
+
+"May I have one?"
+
+"The minute you tell me where that record is."
+
+The Judge subsided. A moment later Trevison's voice floated into the
+chamber, cold and resonant:
+
+"I don't think you're in this thing for money, Judge. Corrigan has some
+sort of a hold on you. What is it?"
+
+The Judge did not answer.
+
+The sun climbed to the zenith. It grew intensely hot in the chamber. Twice
+during the afternoon the Judge asked for water, and each time he received
+the answer he had received before. He did not ask for food, for he felt it
+would not be given him. At sundown his captor entered the chamber and gave
+him a meager draught from the canteen. Then he withdrew and stood on the
+ledge in front of the door, looking out into the darkening plains, and
+watching him, a conviction of the futility of resisting him seized the
+Judge. He stood framed in the opening of the chamber, the lines of his
+bold, strong face prominent in the dusk, the rifle held loosely in the
+crook of his left arm, the right hand caressing the stock, his shoulders
+squared, his big, lithe, muscular figure suggesting magnificent physical
+strength, as the light in his eyes, the set of his head and the firm lines
+of his mouth, brought a conviction of rare courage and determination. The
+sight of him thrilled the Judge; he made a picture that sent the Judge's
+thoughts skittering back to things primitive and heroic. In an earlier day
+the Judge had dreamed of being like him, and the knowledge that he had
+fallen far short of realizing his ideal made him shiver with
+self-aversion. He stifled a moan--or tried to and did not succeed, for it
+reached Trevison's ears and he turned quickly.
+
+"Did you call, Judge?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" whispered the Judge, hoarsely. "I want--to tell you
+everything! I have longed to tell you all along!"
+
+An hour later they were sitting on the edge of the ledge, their feet
+dangling, the abyss below them, the desert stars twinkling coldly above
+them; around them the indescribable solitude of a desert night filled with
+mystery, its vague, haunting, whispering voice burdened with its age-old
+secrets. Trevison had an arm around the Judge's shoulder. Their voices
+mingled--the Judge's low, quavering; Trevison's full, deep, sympathetic.
+
+After a while a rider appeared out of the starlit haze of the plains below
+them. The Judge started. Trevison laughed.
+
+"It's Clay Levins, Judge. I've been watching him for half an hour. He'll
+stay here with you while I go after the record. Under the bottom drawer,
+eh?"
+
+Levins hallooed to them. Trevison answered, and he and the Judge walked
+forward to meet Levins at the crest of the slope.
+
+"Slicker'n a whistle!" declared Levins, answering the question Trevison
+put to him. "I mailed the damn letter an' come back on the train that
+brought it to him!" He grinned felinely at the Judge. "I reckon you're a
+heap dry an' hungry by this time?"
+
+"The Judge has feasted," said Trevison. "I'm going after the record.
+You're to stay here with the Judge until I return. Then the three of us
+will ride to Las Vegas, where we will take a train to Santa Fe, to turn
+the record over to the Circuit Court."
+
+"Sounds good!" gloated Levins. "But it's too long around. I'm for
+somethin' more direct. Why not take the Judge with you to Manti, get the
+record, takin' a bunch of your boys with you--an' salivate that damned
+Corrigan an' his deputies!"
+
+Trevison laughed softly. "I don't want any violence if I can avoid it. My
+land won't run away while we're in Santa Fe. And the Judge doesn't want to
+meet Corrigan just now. I don't know that I blame him."
+
+"Where's the record?"
+
+Trevison told him, and Levins grumbled. "Corrigan'll have his deputies
+guardin' the courthouse, most likely. If you run ag'in 'em, they'll bore
+you, sure as hell!"
+
+"I'll take care of myself--I promise you that!" he laughed, and the Judge
+shuddered at the sound. He vanished into the darkness of the ledge,
+returning presently with Nigger, led him down the slope, called a low
+"So-long" to the two watchers on the ledge, and rode away into the haze of
+the plains.
+
+Trevison rode fast, filled with a grim elation. He pitied the Judge. An
+error--a momentary weakening of moral courage--had plunged the jurist into
+the clutches of Corrigan; he could hardly be held responsible for what had
+transpired--he was a puppet in the hands of an unscrupulous schemer, with
+a threat of exposure hanging over him. No wonder he feared Corrigan!
+Trevison's thoughts grew bitter as they dwelt upon the big man; the old
+longing to come into violent physical contact with the other seized him,
+raged within him, brought a harsh laugh to his lips as he rode. But a
+greater passion than he felt for the Judge or Corrigan tugged at him as he
+urged the big black over the plains toward the twinkling lights of
+Manti--a fierce exultation which centered around Rosalind Benham. She had
+duped him, betrayed him to his enemy, had played with him--but she had
+lost!
+
+Yet the thought of his coming victory over her was poignantly
+unsatisfying. He tried to picture her--did picture her--receiving the news
+of Corrigan's defeat, and somehow it left him with a feeling of regret.
+The vengeful delight that he should have felt was absent--he felt sorry
+for her. He charged himself with being a fool for yielding to so strange a
+sentiment, but it lingered persistently. It fed his rage against Corrigan,
+however, doubled it, for upon him lay the blame.
+
+It was late when he reached the outskirts of Manti. He halted Nigger in
+the shadow of a shed a hundred yards or so down the track from the
+courthouse, dismounted and made his way cautiously down the railroad
+tracks. He was beyond the radius of the lights from various windows that
+he passed, but he moved stealthily, not knowing whether Corrigan had
+stationed guards about the courthouse, as Levins had warned. An instant
+after reaching a point opposite the courthouse he congratulated himself on
+his discretion, for he caught a glimmer of light at the edge of a window
+shade in the courthouse, saw several indistinct figures congregated at the
+side door, outside. He slipped behind a tool shed at the side of the
+track, and crouching there, watched and listened. A mumbling of voices
+reached him, but he could distinguish no word. But it was evident that the
+men outside were awaiting the reappearance of one of their number who had
+gone into the building.
+
+Trevison watched, impatiently. Then presently the side door opened,
+letting out a flood of light, which bathed the figures of the waiting men.
+Trevison scowled, for he recognized them as Corrigan's deputies. But he
+was not surprised, for he had half expected them to be hanging around the
+building. Two figures stepped down from the door as he watched, and he
+knew them for Corrigan and Gieger. Corrigan's voice reached him.
+
+"The lock on this door is broken. I had to kick it in this morning. One of
+you stay inside, here. The rest of you scatter and keep your eyes peeled.
+There's trickery afoot. Judge Lindman didn't go to Dry Bottom--the agent
+says he's sure of that because he saw every man that's got aboard a train
+here within the last twenty-four hours--and Judge Lindman wasn't among
+them! Levins was, though; he left on the one-thirty this morning and got
+back on the six-o'clock, tonight." He vanished into the darkness beyond
+the door, but called back: "I'll be within call. Don't be afraid to shoot
+if you see anything suspicious!"
+
+Trevison saw a man enter the building, and the light was blotted out by
+the closing of the door. When his eyes were again accustomed to the
+darkness he observed that the men were standing close together--they
+seemed to be holding a conference. Then the group split up, three going
+toward the front of the building; two remaining near the side door, and
+two others walking around to the rear.
+
+For an instant Trevison regretted that he had not taken Levins' advice
+about forming a posse of his own men to take the courthouse by storm, and
+he debated the thought of postponing action. But there was no telling what
+might happen during an interval of delay. In his rage over the discovery
+of the trick that had been played on him Corrigan might tear the interior
+of the building to pieces. He would be sure to if he suspected the
+presence of the original record. Trevison did not go for the help that
+would have been very welcome. Instead, he spent some time twirling the
+cylinder of his pistol.
+
+He grew tired of crouching after a time and lay flat on his stomach in the
+shadow of the tool shed, watching the men as they tramped back and forth,
+around the building. He knew that sooner or later there would be a minute
+or two of relaxation, and of this he had determined to take advantage. But
+it was not until sound in the town had perceptibly decreased in volume
+that there was any sign of the men relaxing their vigil. And then he noted
+them congregating at the front of the building.
+
+"Hell," he heard one of them say; "what's the use of hittin' that trail
+_all_ night! Bill's inside, an' we can see the door from here. I'm due for
+a smoke an' a palaver!" Matches flared up; the sounds of their voices
+reached Trevison.
+
+Trevison disappointedly relaxed. Then, filled with a sudden decision, he
+slipped around the back of the tool shed and stole toward the rear of the
+courthouse. It projected beyond the rear of the bank building, adjoining
+it, forming an L, into the shadow of which Trevison slipped. He stood
+there for an instant, breathing rapidly, undecided. The darkness in the
+shadow was intense, and he was forced to feel his way along the wall for
+fear of stumbling. He was leaning heavily on his hands, trusting to them
+rather than to his footing, when the wall seemed to give way under them
+and he fell forward, striking on his hands and knees. Fortunately, he had
+made no sound in falling, and he remained in the kneeling position until
+he got an idea of what had happened. He had fallen across the threshold of
+a doorway. The door had been unfastened and the pressure of his hands had
+forced it inward. It was the rear door of the bank building. He looked
+inward, wondering at Braman's carelessness--and stared fixedly straight
+into a beam of light that shone through a wedge-shaped crevice between two
+boards in the partition that separated the buildings.
+
+He got up silently, stepped stealthily into the room, closing the door
+behind him. He tried to fasten it and discovered that the lock was broken.
+For some time he stood, wondering, and then, giving it up, he made his way
+cautiously around the room, searching for Braman's cot. He found that,
+too, empty, and he decided that some one had broken into the building
+during Braman's absence. Moving away from the cot, he stumbled against
+something soft and yielding, and his pistol flashed into his hand in
+sinister preparation, for he knew from the feel of the soft object that it
+was a body, and he suspected that it was Braman, stalking him. He thought
+that until he remembered the broken lock, on the door, and then the
+significance of it burst upon him. Whoever had broken the lock had fixed
+Braman. He knelt swiftly and ran his hands over the prone form, drawing
+back at last with the low ejaculation: "He's a goner!" He had no time or
+inclination to speculate over the manner of Braman's death, and made
+catlike progress toward the crevice in the partition. Reaching it, he
+dropped on his hands and knees and peered through. A wooden box on the
+other side of the partition intervened, but above it he could see the form
+of the deputy. The man was stretched out in a chair, sideways to the
+crevice in the wall, sleeping. A grin of huge satisfaction spread over
+Trevison's face.
+
+His movements were very deliberate and cautious. But in a quarter of an
+hour he had pulled the board out until an opening was made in the
+partition, and then propping the board back with a chair he reached
+through and slowly shoved the box on the other side back far enough to
+admit his body. Crawling through, he rose on the other side, crossed the
+floor carefully, kneeled at the drawer where Judge Lindman had concealed
+the record, pulled it out and stuck it in the waistband of his trousers,
+in front, his eyes glittering with exultation. Then he began to back
+toward the opening in the partition. At the instant he was preparing to
+stoop to crawl back into the bank building, the deputy in the chair
+yawned, stretched and opened his eyes, staring stupidly at him. There was
+no mistaking the dancing glitter in Trevison's eyes, no possible
+misinterpretation of his tense, throaty whisper: "One chirp and you're a
+dead one!" And the deputy stiffened in the chair, dumb with astonishment
+and terror.
+
+The deputy had not seen the opening in the partition, for it was partly
+hidden from his view by the box which Trevison had encountered in
+entering, and before the man had an opportunity to look toward the place,
+Trevison commanded him again, in a sharp, cold whisper:
+
+"Get up and turn your back to me--quick! Any noise and I'll plug you!
+Move!"
+
+The deputy obeyed. Then he received an order to walk to the door without
+looking back. He readied the door--halted.
+
+"Now open it and get out!"
+
+The man did as bidden; diving headlong out into the darkness, swinging the
+door shut behind him. His yell to his companions mingled with the roar of
+Trevison's pistol as he shattered the kerosene lamp. The bullet hit the
+neck of the glass bowl, a trifle below the burner, the latter describing a
+parabola in the air and falling into the ruin of the bowl. The chimney
+crashed, the flame from the wick touched the oil and flared up
+brilliantly.
+
+Trevison was half way through the wall by the time the oil ignited, and he
+grinned coldly at the sight. Haste was important now. He slipped through
+the opening, pulled the chair from between the board and wall, letting the
+board snap back, and placing the chair against it. He felt certain that
+the deputies would think that in some manner he had run their barricade
+and entered the building through the door.
+
+He heard voices outside, a fusillade of shots, the tinkle of breaking
+glass; against the pine boards at his side came the wicked thud of
+bullets, the splintering of wood as they tore through the partition and
+embedded themselves in the outside wall. He ducked low and ran to the rear
+door, swinging it open. Braman's body bothered him; he could not leave it
+there, knowing the building would soon be in flames. He dragged the body
+outside, to a point several feet distant from the building, dropping it at
+last and standing erect for the first time to fill his lungs and look
+about him. Looking back as he ran down the tracks toward the shed where he
+had left Nigger, he saw shadowy forms of men running around the
+courthouse, which was now dully illuminated, the light from within dancing
+fitfully through the window shades. Flaming streaks rent the night from
+various points--thinking him still in the building the deputies were
+shooting through the windows. Manti, rudely awakened, was pouring its
+population through its doors in streams. Shouts, hoarse, inquisitive,
+drifted to Trevison's ears. Lights blazed up, flickering from windows like
+giant fireflies. Doors slammed, dogs were barking, men were running.
+Trevison laughed vibrantly as he ran. But his lips closed tightly when he
+saw two or three shadowy figures darting toward him, coming from various
+directions--one from across the street; another coming straight down the
+railroad track, still another advancing from his right. He bowed his head
+and essayed to pass the first figure. It reached out a hand and grasped
+his shoulder, arresting his flight.
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Let go, you damned fool!"
+
+The man still clung to him. Trevison wrenched himself free and struck,
+viciously. The man dropped with a startled cry. Another figure was upon
+Trevison. He wanted no more trouble at that minute.
+
+"Hell to pay!" he panted as the second man loomed close to him in the
+darkness; "Trevison's in the courthouse!"
+
+He heard the other gasp; saw him lunge forward. He struck again, bitterly,
+and the man went to his knees. He was up again instantly, as Trevison fled
+into the darkness, crying resonantly:
+
+"This way, boys--here he is!"
+
+"Corrigan!" breathed Trevison. He ducked as a flame-spurt split the night;
+reaching a corner of the shed where he had left his horse as a succession
+of reports rattled behind him. Corrigan was firing at him. He dared not
+use his own pistol, lest its flash reveal his whereabouts, and he knew he
+would have no chance against the odds that were against him. Nor was he
+intent on murder. He flung himself into the saddle, and for the first time
+since he had come into Trevison's possession Nigger knew the bite of spurs
+earnestly applied. He snorted, leaped, and plunged forward, the clatter of
+his hoofs bringing lancelike streaks of fire out of the surrounding
+blackness. Behind him Trevison heard Corrigan raging impotently,
+profanely. There came another scattering volley. Trevison reeled, caught
+himself, and then hung hard to the saddle-horn, as Nigger fled into the
+night, running as a coyote runs from the daylight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+ANOTHER WOMAN LIES
+
+
+Shortly before midnight Aunt Agatha Benham laid her book down, took off
+her glasses, wiped her eyes and yawned. She sat for a time stretched out
+in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, meditatively looking at the
+flicker of the kerosene lamp, thinking of the conveniences she had given
+up in order to chaperon a wilful girl who did not appreciate her services.
+It was the selfishness of youth, she decided--nothing less. But still
+Rosalind might understand what a sacrifice her aunt was making for her.
+Thrilling with self-pity, she got up, blew out the light and ascended the
+stairs to her room. She plumped herself in a chair at one of the front
+windows before beginning to undress, that she might again feel the
+delicious thrill, for that was the only consolation she got from a
+contemplation of her sacrifice, Rosalind never offered her a word of
+gratitude!
+
+The thrill she anticipated was not the one she experienced--it was a
+thrill of apprehension that seized her--for a glowing midnight sky met her
+gaze as she stared in the direction of Manti, vast, extensive. In its
+center, directly over the town, was a fierce white glare with off-shoots
+of licking, leaping tongues of flame that reached skyward hungrily.
+
+Agatha watched for one startled instant, and then she was in Rosalind's
+room, leaning over the bed, shaking her. The girl got up, dressed in her
+night clothes, and together they stood at one of the windows in the girl's
+room, watching.
+
+The fierce white center of the fire seemed to expand.
+
+"It's a fire--in Manti!" said the girl. "See! Another building has caught!
+Oh, I _do_ hope they can put it out!"
+
+They stood long at the window. Once, when the glow grew more brilliant,
+the girl exclaimed sharply, but after a time the light began to fade, and
+she drew a breath of relief.
+
+"They have it under control," she said.
+
+"Well, come to bed," advised Agatha.
+
+"Wait!" said the girl. She pressed her face against the window and peered
+intently into the darkness. Then she threw up the sash, stuck her head out
+and listened. She drew back, her face slowly whitening.
+
+"Some one is coming, Aunty--and riding very fast!"
+
+A premonition of tragedy, associated with the fire, had seized the girl at
+her first glimpse of the light, though she had said nothing. The
+appearance of a rider, approaching the house at breakneck speed had added
+strength to her fears, and now, driven by the urge of apprehension that
+had seized her she flitted out of the room before Agatha could restrain
+her, and was down in the sitting-room in an instant, applying a match to
+the lamp. As the light flared up she heard the thunder of hoofs just
+outside the door, and she ran to it, throwing it open. She shrank back,
+drawing her breath gaspingly, for the rider had dismounted and stepped
+toward her, into the dim light of the open doorway.
+
+"You!" she said.
+
+A low laugh was her answer, and Trevison stepped over the threshold and
+closed the door behind him. From the foot of the stairs Agatha saw him,
+and she stood, nerveless and shaking with dread over the picture he made.
+
+He had been more than forty-eight hours without sleep, the storm-center of
+action had left its impression on him, and his face was gaunt and haggard,
+with great, dark hollows under his eyes. The three or four days' growth of
+beard accentuated the bold lines of his chin and jaw; his eyes were
+dancing with the fires of passion; he held a Winchester rifle under his
+right arm, the left, hanging limply at his side, was stained darkly. He
+swayed as he stood looking at the girl, and smiled with faint derision at
+the naked fear and wonder that had leaped into her eyes. But the derision
+was tinged with bitterness, for this girl with both hands pressed over her
+breast, heaving with the mingled emotions of modesty and dismay, was one
+of the chief factors in the scheme to rob him. The knowledge hurt him
+worse than the bullet which had passed through his arm. She had been
+uppermost in his thoughts during his reckless ride from Manti, and he
+would have cheerfully given his land, his ten years of labor, for the
+assurance that she was innocent. But he knew guilt when he saw it, and
+proof of it had been in her avoidance of him, in her ride to save
+Corrigan's mining machinery, in her subsequent telling of his presence at
+the butte on the night of the dynamiting, in her bitter declaration that
+he ought to be punished for it. The case against her was strong. And yet
+on his ride from Manti he had been irresistibly drawn toward the Bar B
+ranchhouse. He had told himself as he rode that the impulse to visit her
+this night was strong within him because on his way to the pueblo he was
+forced to pass the house, but he knew better--he had lied to himself. He
+wanted to talk with her again; he wanted to show her the land record,
+which proved her fiance's guilt; he wanted to watch her as she looked at
+the record, to learn from her face--what he might find there.
+
+He stood the rifle against the wall near the door, while the girl and her
+aunt watched him, breathlessly. His voice was vibrant and hoarse, but well
+under control, and he smiled with straight lips as he set the rifle down
+and drew the record from his waistband.
+
+"I've something to show you, Miss Benham. I couldn't pass the house
+without letting you know what has happened." He opened the book and
+stepped to her side, swinging his left hand up, the index finger
+indicating a page on which his name appeared.
+
+"Look!" he said, sharply, and watched her face closely. He saw her cheeks
+blanch, and set his lips grimly.
+
+"Why," she said, after she had hurriedly scanned the page; "it seems to
+prove your title! But this is a court record, isn't it?" She examined the
+gilt lettering on the back of the volume, and looked up at him with wide,
+luminous eyes. "Where did you get that book?"
+
+"From the courthouse."
+
+"Why, I thought people weren't permitted to take court records--"
+
+"I've taken this one," he laughed.
+
+She looked at the blood on his hand, shudderingly. "Why," she said;
+"there's been violence! The fire, the blood on your hand, the record, your
+ride here--What does it mean?"
+
+"It means that I've been denied my rights, and I've taken them. Is there
+any crime in that? Look here!" He took another step and stood looking down
+at her. "I'm not saying anything about Corrigan. You know what we think of
+each other, and we'll fight it out, man to man. But the fact that a woman
+is engaged to one man doesn't bar another man from the game. And I'm in
+this game to the finish. And even if I don't get you I don't want you to
+be mixed up in these schemes and plots--you're too good a girl for that!"
+
+"What do you mean?" She stiffened, looking scornfully at him, her chin
+held high, outraged innocence in her manner. His cold grin of frank
+disbelief roused her to furious indignation. What right had he to question
+her integrity to make such speeches to her after his disgraceful affair
+with Hester Harvey?
+
+"I do not care to discuss the matter with you!" she said, her lips stiff.
+
+"Ha, ha!" The bitter derision in his laugh made her blood riot with
+hatred. He walked toward the door and took up the rifle, dimly remembering
+she had used the same words to him once before, when he had met her as she
+had been riding toward Manti. Of course she wouldn't discuss such a
+thing--he had been a blind fool to think she would. But it proved her
+guilt. Swinging the rifle under his arm, he opened the door, turned when
+on the threshold and bowed to her.
+
+"I'm sorry I troubled you, Miss Benham," he said. He essayed to turn,
+staggered, looked vacantly around the room, his lips in a queerly cold
+half-smile, and then without uttering a sound pitched forward, one
+shoulder against the door jamb, and slid slowly to his knees, where he
+rested, his head sinking limply to his chest. He heard the girl cry out
+sharply and he raised his head with an effort and smiled reassuringly at
+her, and when he felt her hands on his arm, trying to lift him, he laughed
+aloud in self-derision and got to his feet, hanging to the door jamb.
+
+"I'm sorry, Miss Benham," he mumbled. "I lost some blood, I suppose.
+Rotten luck, isn't it. I shouldn't have stopped." He turned to go, lurched
+forward and would have fallen out of the door had not the girl seized and
+steadied him.
+
+He did not resist when she dragged him into the room and closed the door,
+but he waved her away when she tried to take his arm and lead him toward
+the kitchen where, she insisted, she would prepare a stimulant and food
+for him. He tottered after her, tall and gaunt, his big, lithe figure
+strangely slack, his head rocking, the room whirling around him. He had
+held to the record and the rifle; the latter by the muzzle, dragging it
+after him, the record under his arm.
+
+But his marvelous constitution, a result of his clean living and outdoor
+life, responded quickly to the stimulation of food and hot drinks, and in
+half an hour he got up, still a little weak, but with some color in his
+cheeks, and shame-facedly thanked the girl. He realized now, that he
+should not have come here; the past few hours loomed in his thoughts like
+a wild nightmare in which he had lost his sense of proportion, yielding to
+the elemental passions that had been aroused in his long, sleepless
+struggle, making him act upon impulses that he would have frowned
+contemptuously away in a normal frame of mind.
+
+"I've been nearly crazy, I think," he said to the girl with a wan smile of
+self-accusation. "I want you to forget what I said."
+
+"What happened at Manti?" she demanded, ignoring his words.
+
+He laughed at the recollection, tucking his rifle under his arm,
+preparatory to leaving. "I went after the record. I got it. There was a
+fight. But I got away."
+
+"But the fire!"
+
+"I was forced to smash a lamp in the courthouse. The wick fell into the
+oil, and I couldn't delay to--"
+
+"Was anybody hurt--besides you?"
+
+"Braman's dead." The girl gasped and shrank from him, and he saw that she
+believed he had killed the banker, and he was about to deny the crime when
+Agatha's voice shrilled through the doorway:
+
+"There are some men coming, Rosalind!" And then, vindictively: "I presume
+they are desperadoes--too!"
+
+"Deputies!" said Trevison. The girl clasped her hands over her breast in
+dismay, which changed to terror when she saw Trevison stiffen and leap
+toward the door. She was afraid for him, horrified over this second
+lawless deed, dumb with doubt and indecision--and she didn't want them to
+catch him!
+
+He opened the door, paused on the threshold and smiled at her with
+straight, hard lips.
+
+"Braman was--"
+
+"Go!" she cried in a frenzy of anxiety; "go!"
+
+He laughed mockingly, and looked at her intently. "I suppose I will never
+understand women. You are my enemy, and yet you give me food and drink and
+are eager to have me escape your accomplice. Don't you know that this
+record will ruin him?"
+
+"Go, go!" she panted.
+
+"Well, you're a puzzle!" he said. She saw him leap into the saddle, and
+she ran to the lamp, blew out the flame, and returned to the open door, in
+which she stood for a long time, listening to rapid hoof beats that
+gradually receded. Before they died out entirely there came the sound of
+many others, growing in volume and drawing nearer, and she beat her hands
+together, murmuring:
+
+"Run, Nigger--run, run, run!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+She closed the door as the hoof beats sounded in the yard, locking it and
+retreating to the foot of the stairs, where Agatha stood.
+
+"What does it all mean?" asked the elder woman. She was trembling.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," whispered the girl, gulping hard to keep her voice
+from breaking. "It's something about Trevison's land. And I'm afraid,
+Aunty, that there is something terribly wrong. Mr. Corrigan says it
+belongs to him, and the court in Manti has decided in his favor. But
+according to the record in Trevison's possession, _he_ has a clear title
+to it."
+
+"There, there," consoled Agatha; "your father wouldn't permit--"
+
+"No, no!" said the girl, vehemently; "he wouldn't. But I can't understand
+why Trevison fights so hard if--if he is in the wrong!"
+
+"He is a desperado, my dear; a wild, reckless spirit who has no regard for
+law and order. Of course, if these men are after him, you will tell them
+he was here!"
+
+"No!" said the girl, sharply; "I shan't!"
+
+"Perhaps you shouldn't," acquiesced Agatha. She patted the girl's
+shoulder. "Maybe it would be for the best, dear--he may be in the right.
+And I think I understand why you went riding with him so much, dear. He
+may be wild and reckless, but he's a man--every inch of him!"
+
+The girl squeezed her relative's hand and went to open the door, upon
+which had come a loud knock. Corrigan stood framed in the opening. She
+could see his face only dimly.
+
+"There's no occasion for alarm, Miss Benham," he said, and she felt that
+he could see her better than she could see him, and thus must have
+discerned something of her emotion. "I must apologize for this noisy
+demonstration. I believe I'm a little excited, though. Has Trevison passed
+here within the last hour or so?"
+
+"No," she said, firmly.
+
+He laughed shortly. "Well, we'll get him. I've split my men up--some have
+gone to his ranch, the others have headed for Levins' place."
+
+"What has happened?"
+
+"Enough. Judge Lindman disappeared--the supposition is that he was
+abducted. I placed some men around the courthouse, to safeguard the
+records, and Trevison broke in and set fire to the place. He also robbed
+the safe in the bank, and killed Braman--choked him to death. A most
+revolting murder. I'm sorry I disturbed you--good night."
+
+The girl closed the door as he left it, and leaned against it, weak and
+shaking. Corrigan's voice had a curious note in it. He had told her he was
+sorry to have disturbed her, but the words had not rung true--there had
+been too much satisfaction in them. What was she to believe from this
+night's events? One thought leaped vividly above the others that rioted in
+her mind: Trevison had again sinned against the law, and this time his
+crime was murder! She shrank away from the door and joined Agatha at the
+foot of the stairs.
+
+"Aunty," she sobbed; "I want to go away. I want to go back East, away from
+this lawlessness and confusion!"
+
+"There, there, dear," soothed Agatha. "I am sure everything will come out
+all right. But Trevison _does_ look to be the sort of a man who would
+abduct a judge, doesn't he? If I were a girl, and felt that he were in
+love with me, I'd be mighty careful--"
+
+"That he wouldn't abduct you?" laughed the girl, tremulously, cheered by
+the change in her relative's manner.
+
+"No," said Agatha, slyly. "I'd be mighty careful that he _got_ me!"
+
+"Oh!" said the girl, and buried her face in her aunt's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+IN THE DARK
+
+
+Trevison faced the darkness between him and the pueblo with a wild hope
+pulsing through his veins. Rosalind Benham had had an opportunity to
+deliver him into the hands of his enemy and she had not taken advantage of
+it. There was but one interpretation that he might place upon her failure
+to aid her accomplice. She declined to take an active part in the scheme.
+She had been passive, content to watch while Corrigan did the real work.
+Possibly she had no conception of the enormity of the crime. She had been
+eager to have Corrigan win, and influenced by her affection and his
+arguments she had done what she could without actually committing herself
+to the robbery. It was a charitable explanation, and had many flaws, but
+he clung to it persistently, nurturing it with his hopes and his hunger
+for her, building it up until it became a structure of logic firmly fixed
+and impregnable. Women were easily influenced--that had been his
+experience with them--he was forced to accept it as a trait of the sex. So
+he absolved her, his hunger for her in no way sated at the end.
+
+His thoughts ran to Corrigan in a riot of rage that pained him like a
+knife thrust; his lust for vengeance was a savage, bitter-visaged demon
+that held him in its clutch and made his temples pound with a yearning to
+slay. And that, of course, would have to be the end. For the enmity that
+lay between them was not a thing to be settled by the law--it was a man to
+man struggle that could be settled in only one way--by the passions,
+naked, elemental, eternal. He saw it coming; he leaped to meet it,
+eagerly.
+
+Every stride the black horse made shortened by that much the journey he
+had resolved upon, and Nigger never ran as he was running now. The black
+seemed to feel that he was on the last lap of a race that had lasted for
+more than forty-eight hours, with short intervals of rest between, and he
+did his best without faltering.
+
+Order had come out of the chaos of plot and counterplot; Trevison's course
+was to be as direct as his hatred. He would go to the pueblo, take Judge
+Lindman and the record to Santa Fe, and then return to Manti for a last
+meeting with Corrigan.
+
+A late moon, rising from a cleft in some distant mountains, bathed the
+plains with a silvery flood when horse and rider reached a point within a
+mile of the pueblo, and Nigger covered the remainder of the distance at a
+pace that made the night air drum in Trevison's ears. The big black slowed
+as he came to a section of broken country surrounding the ancient city,
+but he got through it quickly and skirted the sand slopes, taking the
+steep acclivity leading to the ledge of the pueblo in a dozen catlike
+leaps and coming to a halt in the shadow of an adobe house, heaving
+deeply, his rider flung himself out of the saddle and ran along the ledge
+to the door of the chamber where he had imprisoned Judge Lindman.
+
+Trevison could see no sign of the Judge or Levins. The ledge was bare,
+aglow, the openings of the communal houses facing it loomed dark, like the
+doors of tombs. A ghastly, unearthly silence greeted Trevison's call after
+the echoes died away; the upper tier of adobe boxes seemed to nod in
+ghostly derision as his gaze swept them. There was no sound, no movement,
+except the regular cough of his own laboring lungs, and the rustle of his
+clothing as his chest swelled and deflated with the effort. He exclaimed
+impatiently and retraced his steps, peering into recesses between the
+communal houses, certain that the Judge and Levins had fallen asleep in
+his absence. He turned at a corner and in a dark angle almost stumbled
+over Levins. He was lying on his stomach, his right arm under his head,
+his face turned sideways. Trevison thought at first that he was asleep and
+prodded him gently with the toe of his boot. A groan smote his ears and he
+kneeled quickly, turning Levins over. Something damp and warm met his
+fingers as he seized the man by the shoulder, and he drew the hand away
+quickly, exclaiming sharply as he noted the stain on it.
+
+His exclamation brought Levins' eyes open, and he stared upward, stupidly
+at first, then with a bright gaze of comprehension. He struggled and sat
+up, swaying from side to side.
+
+"They got the Judge, 'Brand'--they run him off, with my cayuse!"
+
+"Who got him?"
+
+"I ain't reckonin' to know. Some of Corrigan's scum, most likely--I didn't
+see 'em close."
+
+"How long ago?"
+
+"Not a hell of a while. Mebbe fifteen or twenty minutes. I been missin' a
+lot of time, I reckon. Can't have been long, though."
+
+"Which way did they go?"
+
+"Off towards Manti. Two of 'em took him. The rest is layin' low somewhere,
+most likely. Watch out they don't get _you_! I ain't seen 'em run off,
+yet!"
+
+"How did it happen?"
+
+"I ain't got it clear in my head, yet. Just happened, I reckon. The Judge
+was settin' on the ledge just in front of the dobie house you had him in.
+I was moseyin' along the edge, tryin' to figger out what a light in the
+sky off towards Manti meant. I couldn't figger it out--what in hell was
+it, anyway?"
+
+"The courthouse burned--maybe the bank."
+
+Levins chuckled. "You got the record, then."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"An' I've lost the Judge! Ain't I a box-head, though!"
+
+"That's all right. Go ahead. What happened?"
+
+"I was moseyin along the ledge. Just when I got to the slope where we come
+up--passin' it--I seen a bunch of guys, on horses, coming out of the
+shadow of an angle, down there. I hadn't seen 'em before. I knowed
+somethin' was up an' I turned, to light out for shelter. An' just then one
+of 'em burns me in the back--with a rifle bullet. It couldn't have been no
+six, from that distance. It took the starch out of me, an' I caved, I
+reckon, for a little while. When I woke up the Judge was gone. The moon
+had just come up an' I seen him ridin' away on my cayuse, between two
+other guys. I reckon I must have gone off again, when you shook me." He
+laughed, weakly. "What gets _me_, is where them other guys went, after the
+two sloped with the Judge. If they'd have been hangin' around they'd sure
+have got _you_, comin' up here, wouldn't they?"
+
+Trevison's answer was a hoarse exclamation. He swung Levins up and bore
+him into one of the communal houses, whose opening faced away from the
+plains and the activity. Then he ran to where he had left Nigger, leading
+the animal back into the zig-zag passages, pulling his rifle out of the
+saddle holster and stationing himself in the shadow of the house in which
+he had taken Levins.
+
+"They've come back, eh?" the wounded man's voice floated out to him.
+
+"Yes--five or six of them. No--eight! They've got sharp eyes, too!" he
+added stepping back as a rifle bullet droned over his head, chipping a
+chunk of adobe from the roof of the box in whose shelter he stood.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sullenly, Corrigan had returned to Manti with the deputies that had
+accompanied him to the Bar B. He had half expected to find Trevison at the
+ranchhouse, for he had watched him when he had ridden away and he seemed
+to have been headed in that direction. Jealousy dwelt darkly in the big
+man's heart, and he had found his reason for the suspicion there. He
+thought he knew truth when he saw it, and he would have sworn that truth
+shone from Rosalind Benham's eyes when she had told him that she had not
+seen Trevison pass that way. He had not known that what he took for the
+truth was the cleverest bit of acting the girl had ever been called upon
+to do. He had decided that Trevison had swung off the Bar B trail
+somewhere between Manti and the ranchhouse, and he led his deputies back
+to town, content to permit his men to continue the search for Trevison,
+for he was convinced that the latter's visit to the courthouse had
+resulted in disappointment, for he had faith in Judge Lindman's
+declaration that he had destroyed the record. He had accused himself many
+times for his lack of caution in not being present when the record had
+been destroyed, but regrets had become impotent and futile.
+
+Reaching Manti, he dispersed his deputies and sought his bed in the
+_Castle_. He had not been in bed more than an hour when an attendant of
+the hotel called to him through the door that a man named Gieger wanted to
+talk with him, below. He dressed and went down to the street, to find
+Gieger and another deputy sitting on their horses in front of the hotel
+with Judge Lindman, drooping from his long vigil, between them.
+
+Corrigan grinned scornfully at the Judge.
+
+"Clever, eh?" he sneered. He spoke softly, for the dawn was not far away,
+and he knew that a voice carries resonantly at that hour.
+
+"I don't understand you!" Judicial dignity sat sadly on the Judge; he was
+tired and haggard, and his voice was a weak treble. "If you mean--"
+
+"I'll show you what I mean." Corrigan motioned to the deputies. "Bring him
+along!" Leading the way he took them through Manti's back door across a
+railroad spur to a shanty beside the track which the engineer in charge of
+the dam occasionally occupied when his duty compelled him to check up
+arriving material and supplies. Because plans and other valuable papers
+were sometimes left in the shed it was stoutly built, covered with
+corrugated iron, and the windows barred with iron, prison-like. Reaching
+the shed, Corrigan unlocked the door, shoved the Judge inside, closed the
+door on the Judge's indignant protests, questioned the deputies briefly,
+gave them orders and then re-entered the shed, closing the door behind
+him.
+
+He towered over the Judge, who had sunk weakly to a bench. It was pitch
+dark in the shed, but Corrigan had seen the Judge drop on the bench and
+knew exactly where he was.
+
+"I want the whole story--without any reservations," said Corrigan,
+hoarsely; "and I want it quick--as fast as you can talk!"
+
+The Judge got up, resenting the other's tone. He had also a half-formed
+resolution to assert his independence, for he had received certain
+assurances from Trevison with regard to his past which had impressed
+him--and still impressed him.
+
+"I refuse to be questioned by you, sir--especially in this manner! I do
+not purpose to take further--"
+
+The Judge felt Corrigan's fingers at his throat, and gasped with horror,
+throwing up his hands to ward them off, failed, and heard Corrigan's laugh
+as the fingers gripped his throat and held.
+
+When the Judge came to, it was with an excruciatingly painful struggle
+that left him shrinking and nerveless, lying in a corner, blinking at the
+light of a kerosene lamp. Corrigan sat on the edge of a flat-topped desk
+watching him with an ugly, appraising, speculative grin. It was as though
+the man were mentally gambling on his chances to recover from the
+throttling.
+
+"Well," he said when the Judge at last struggled and sat up; "how do you
+like it? You'll get more if you don't talk fast and straight! Who wrote
+that letter, from Dry Bottom?"
+
+Neither judicial dignity or resolutions of independence could resist the
+threatened danger of further violence that shone from Corrigan's eyes, and
+the Judge whispered gaspingly:
+
+"Trevison."
+
+"I thought so! Now, be careful how you answer this. What did Trevison want
+in the courthouse?"
+
+"The original record of the land transfers."
+
+"Did he get it?" Corrigan's voice was dangerously even, and the Judge
+squirmed and coughed before he spoke the hesitating word that was an
+admission of his deception:
+
+"I told him--where--it was."
+
+Paralyzed with fear, the Judge watched Corrigan slip off the desk and
+approach him. He got to his feet and raised his hands to shield his throat
+as the big man stopped in front of him.
+
+"Don't, Corrigan--don't, for God's sake!"
+
+"Bah!" said the big man. He struck, venomously. An instant later he put
+out the light and stepped down into the gray dawn, locking the door of the
+shanty behind him and not looking back.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE ASHES
+
+
+Rosalind Benham got up with the dawn and looked out of a window toward
+Manti. She had not slept. She stood at the window for some time and then
+returned to the bed and sat on its edge, staring thoughtfully downward.
+She could not get Trevison out of her mind. It seemed to her that a crisis
+had come and that it was imperative for her to reach a decision--to
+pronounce judgment. She was trying to do this calmly; she was trying to
+keep sentiment from prejudicing her. She found it difficult when
+considering Trevison, but when she arrayed Hester Harvey against her
+longing for the man she found that her scorn helped her to achieve a
+mental balance that permitted her to think of him almost dispassionately.
+She became a mere onlooker, with a calm, clear vision. In this role she
+weighed him. His deeds, his manner, his claims, she arrayed against
+Corrigan and his counter-claims and ambitions, and was surprised to
+discover that were she to be called upon to pass judgment on the basis of
+this surface evidence she would have decided in favor of Trevison. She had
+fought against that, for it was a tacit admission that her father was in
+some way connected with Corrigan's scheme, but she admitted it finally,
+with a pulse of repugnance, and when she placed Levins' story on the
+mental balance, with the knowledge that she had seen the record which
+seemed to prove the contention of fraud in the land transaction, the
+evidence favored Trevison overwhelmingly.
+
+She got up and began to dress, her lips set with determination. Corrigan
+had held her off once with plausible explanations, but she would not
+permit him to do so again. She intended to place the matter before her
+father. Justice must be done. Before she had half finished dressing she
+heard a rustle and turned to see Agatha standing in the doorway connecting
+their rooms.
+
+"What is it, dear?"
+
+"I can't stand the suspense any longer, Aunty. There is something very
+wrong about that land business. I am going to telegraph to father about
+it."
+
+"I was going to ask you to do that, dear. It seems to me that that young
+Trevison is too much in earnest to be fighting for something that does not
+belong to him. If ever there was honesty in a man's face it was in his
+face last night. I don't believe for a minute that your father is
+concerned in Corrigan's schemes--if there are schemes. But it won't do any
+harm to learn what your father thinks about it. My dear--" she stepped to
+the girl and placed an arm around her waist "--last night as I watched
+Trevison, he reminded me of a--a very dear friend that I once knew. I saw
+the wreck of my own romance, my dear. He was just such a man as
+Trevison--reckless, impulsive, and impetuous--dare-devil who would not
+tolerate injustice or oppression. They wouldn't let me have him, my dear,
+and I never would have another man. He went away, joined the army, and was
+killed at the battle of Kenesaw Mountain. I have kept his memory fresh in
+my heart, and last night when I looked at Trevison it seemed to me that he
+must be the reincarnation of the only man I ever loved. There must be
+something terribly wrong to make him act the way he does, my dear. And he
+loves you."
+
+The girl bit her lips to repress the swelling emotions which clamored in
+wild response to this sympathetic understanding. She looked at Agatha, to
+see tears in her eyes, and she wheeled impulsively and threw her arms
+around the other's neck.
+
+"Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Aunty. But--" she gulped "--he doesn't
+love me."
+
+"I saw it in his eyes, my dear." Agatha's smile was tender and
+reminiscent. "Don't you worry. He will find a way to let you know--as he
+will find a way to beat Corrigan--if Corrigan is trying to defraud him!
+He's that kind, my dear!"
+
+In spite of her aunt's assurances the girl's heart was heavy as she began
+her ride to Manti. Trevison might love her,--she had read that it was
+possible for a man to love two women--but she could never return his love,
+knowing of his affair with Hester. He should have justice, however, if
+they were trying to defraud him of his rights!
+
+Long before she reached Manti she saw the train from Dry Bottom, due at
+Manti at six o'clock, gliding over the plains toward the town, and when
+she arrived at the station its passengers had been swallowed by Manti's
+buildings and the station agent and an assistant were dragging and bumping
+trunks and boxes over the station platform.
+
+The agent bowed deferentially to her and followed her into the telegraph
+room, clicking her message over the wires as soon as she had written it.
+When he had finished he wheeled his chair and grinned at her.
+
+"See the courthouse and the bank?"
+
+She had--all that was left of them--black, charred ruins with two iron
+safes, red from their baptism of fire, standing among them. Also two other
+buildings, one on each side of the two that had been destroyed, scorched
+and warped, but otherwise undamaged.
+
+"Come pretty near burning the whole town. It took _some_ work to confine
+_that_ fire--coal oil. Trevison did a clean job. Robbed the safe in the
+bank. Killed Braman--guzzled him. An awful complete job, from Trevison's
+viewpoint. The town's riled, and I wouldn't give a plugged cent for
+Trevison's chances. He's sloped. Desperate character--I always thought
+he'd rip things loose--give him time. It was him blowed up Corrigan's
+mine. I ain't seen Corrigan since last night, but I heard him and twenty
+or thirty deputies are on Trevison's trail. I hope they get him." He
+squinted at her. "There's trouble brewing in this town, Miss Benham. I
+wouldn't advise you to stay here any longer than is _absolutely_
+necessary. There's two factions--looks like. It's about that land deal.
+Lefingwell and some more of them think they've been given a raw decision
+by the court and Corrigan. Excitement! Oh, Lord! This town is fierce. I
+ain't had any sleep in--Your answer? I can't tell. Mebbe right away. Mebbe
+in an hour."
+
+Rosalind went out upon the platform. The agent's words had revived a
+horror that she had almost forgotten--that she wanted to forget--the
+murder of Braman.
+
+She walked to the edge of the station platform, tortured by thoughts in
+which she could find no excuse for Trevison. Murderer and robber! A
+fugitive from justice--the very justice he had been demanding! Her
+thoughts made her weak and sick, and she stepped down from the platform
+and walked up the track, halting beside a shed and leaning against it.
+Across the street from her was the _Castle_ hotel. A man in boots,
+corduroy trousers, and a flannel shirt and dirty white apron, his sleeves
+rolled to the elbows, was washing the front windows and spitting streams
+of tobacco juice on the board walk. She shivered. A grocer next to the
+hotel was adjusting a swinging shelf affixed to the store-front,
+preparatory to piling his wares upon it; a lean-faced man standing in a
+doorway in the building adjoining the grocery was inspecting a six-shooter
+that he had removed from the holster at his side. Rosalind shivered again.
+Civilization and outlawry were strangely mingled here. She would not have
+been surprised to see the lean-faced man begin to shoot at the others.
+Filled with sudden trepidation she took a step away from the shed,
+intending to return to the station and wait for her answer.
+
+As she moved she heard a low moan. She started, paling, and then stood
+stock still, trembling with dread, but determined not to run. The sound
+came again, seeming to issue from the interior of the shed, and she
+retraced her step and leaned again against the wall of the building,
+listening.
+
+There was no mistaking the sound--someone was in trouble. But she wanted
+to be certain before calling for help and she listened again to hear an
+unmistakable pounding on the wall near her, and a voice, calling
+frenziedly: "Help, help--for God's sake!"
+
+Her fears fled and she sprang to the door, finding it locked. She rattled
+it, impotently, and then left it and ran across the street to where the
+window-washer stood. He wheeled and spat copiously, almost in her face, as
+she rapidly told him her news, and then deliberately dropped his brush and
+cloth into the dust and mud at his feet and jumped after her, across the
+street.
+
+"Who's in here?" demanded the man, hammering on the door.
+
+"It's I--Judge Lindman! Open the door! Hurry! I'm smothering--and hurt!"
+
+In what transpired within the next few minutes--and indeed during the
+hours following--the girl felt like an outsider. No one paid any attention
+to her; she was shoved, jostled, buffeted, by the crowd that gathered,
+swarming from all directions. But she was intensely interested.
+
+It seemed to her that every person in Manti gathered in front of the
+shed--that all had heard of the abduction of the Judge. Some one secured
+an iron bar and battered the lock off the door; a half-dozen men dragged
+the Judge out, and he stood in front of the building, swaying in the hands
+of his supporters, his white hair disheveled, his lips blood-stained and
+smashed, where Corrigan had hit him. The frenzy of terror held him, and he
+looked wildly around at the tiers of faces confronting him, the cords of
+his neck standing out and writhing spasmodically. Twice he opened his lips
+to speak, but each time his words died in a dry gasp. At the third effort
+he shrieked:
+
+"I--I want protection! Don't let him touch me again, men! He means to kill
+me! Don't let him touch me! I--I've been attacked--choked--knocked
+insensible! I appeal to you as American citizens for protection!"
+
+It was fear, stark, naked, cringing, that the crowd saw. Faces blanched,
+bodies stiffened; a concerted breath, like a sigh, rose into the flat,
+desert air. Rosalind clenched her hands and stood rigid, thrilling with
+pity.
+
+"Who done it?" A dozen voices asked the question.
+
+"Corrigan!" The Judge screamed this, hysterically. "He is a thief and a
+scoundrel, men! He has plundered this county! He has prostituted your
+court. Your judge, too! I admit it. But I ask your mercy, men! I was
+forced into it! He threatened me! He falsified the land records! He wanted
+me to destroy the original record, but I didn't--I told Trevison where it
+was--I hid it! And because I wouldn't help Corrigan to rob you, he tried
+to kill me!"
+
+A murmur, low, guttural, vindictive, rippled over the crowd, which had now
+swelled to such proportions that the street could not hold it. It fringed
+the railroad track; men were packed against the buildings surrounding the
+shed; they shoved, jostled and squirmed in an effort to get closer to the
+Judge. The windows of the _Castle_ hotel were filled with faces, among
+which Rosalind saw Hester Harvey's, ashen, her eyes aglow.
+
+The Judge's words had stabbed Rosalind--each like a separate knife-thrust;
+they had plunged her into a mental vacuum in which her brain, atrophied,
+reeled, paralyzed. She staggered--a man caught her, muttered something
+about there being too much excitement for a lady, and gruffly ordered
+others to clear the way that he might lead her out of the jam. She
+resisted, for she was determined to stay to hear the Judge to the end, and
+the man grinned hugely at her; and to escape the glances that she could
+feel were directed at her she slipped through the crowd and sought the
+front of the shed, leaning against it, weakly.
+
+A silence had followed the murmur that had run over the crowd. There was a
+breathless period, during which every man seemed to be waiting for his
+neighbor to take the initiative. They wanted a leader. And he appeared,
+presently--a big, broad-shouldered man forced his way through the crowd
+and halted in front of the Judge.
+
+"I reckon we'll protect you, Judge. Just spit out what you got to say.
+We'll stand by you. Where's Trevison?"
+
+"He came to the courthouse last night to get the record. I told him where
+it was. He forced me to go with him to an Indian pueblo, and he kept me
+there yesterday. He left me there last night with Clay Levins, while he
+came here to get the record."
+
+"Do you reckon he got it?"
+
+"I don't know. But from the way Corrigan acted last night--"
+
+"Yes, yes; he got it!"
+
+The words shifted the crowd's gaze to Rosalind, swiftly. The girl had
+hardly realized that she had spoken. Her senses, paralyzed a minute
+before, had received the electric shock of sympathy from a continued study
+of the Judge's face. She saw remorse on it, regret, shame, and the birth
+of a resolution to make whatever reparation that was within his power, at
+whatever cost. It was a weak face, but it was not vicious, and while she
+had been standing there she had noted the lines of suffering. It was not
+until the girl felt the gaze of many curious eyes on her that she realized
+she had committed herself, and her cheeks flamed. She set herself to face
+the stares; she must go on now.
+
+"It's Benham's girl!" she heard a man standing near her whisper hoarsely,
+and she faced them, her chin held high, a queer joy leaping in her heart.
+She knew at this minute that her sympathies had been with Trevison all
+along; that she had always suspected Corrigan, but had fought against the
+suspicion because of the thought that in some way her father might be
+dragged into the affair. It had been a cowardly attitude, and she was glad
+that she had shaken it off. As her brain, under the spur of the sudden
+excitement, resumed its function, her thoughts flitted to the agent's
+babble during the time she had been sending the telegram to her father.
+She talked rapidly, her voice carrying far:
+
+"Trevison got the record last night. He stopped at my ranch and showed it
+to me. I suppose he was going to the pueblo, expecting to meet Levins and
+Lindman there--"
+
+"By God!" The big, broad-shouldered man standing at Judge Lindman's side
+interrupted her. He turned and faced the crowd. "We're damned fools,
+boys--lettin' this thing go on like we have! Corrigan's took his deputies
+out, trailin' Trevison, chargin' him with murderin' Braman, when his real
+purpose is to get his claws on that record! Trevison's been fightin' our
+fight for us, an' we've stood around like a lot of gillies, lettin' him do
+it! It's likely that a man who'd cook up a deal like the Judge, here, says
+Corrigan has, would cook up another, chargin' Trevison with guzzlin' the
+banker. I've knowed Trevison a long time, boys, an' I don't believe he'd
+_guzzle_ anybody--he's too square a man for that!" He stood on his toes,
+raising his clenched hands, and bringing them down with a sweep of furious
+emphasis.
+
+The crowd swayed restlessly. Rosalind saw it split apart, men fighting to
+open a pathway for a woman. There were shouts of: "Open up, there!" "Let
+the lady through!" "Gangway!" "She's got somethin' to say!" And the girl
+caught her breath sharply, for she recognized the woman as Hester Harvey.
+
+It was some time before Hester reached the broad-shouldered man's side.
+There was a stain in each of her cheeks, but outwardly, at least, she
+showed none of the excitement that had seized the crowd; her movements
+were deliberate and there was a resolute set to her lips. She got through,
+finally, and halted beside the big man, the crowd closing up behind her.
+She was swallowed in it, lost to sight.
+
+"Lift her up, Lefingwell!" suggested a man on the outer fringe. "If she's
+got anything to say, let us all hear it!" The suggestion was caught up,
+insistently.
+
+"If you ain't got no objections, ma'am," said the big man. He stooped at
+her cold smile and swung her to his shoulder. She spoke slowly and
+distinctly, though there was a tremor in her voice:
+
+[Illustration: "YOU MEN ARE BLIND. CORRIGAN IS A CROOK WHO
+WILL STOP AT NOTHING."]
+
+"Trevison did not kill Braman--it was Corrigan. Corrigan was in my room in
+the _Castle_ last night just after dark. When he left, I watched him from
+my window, after putting out the light. He had threatened to kill Braman.
+I watched him cross the street and go around to the rear of the bank
+building. There was a light in the rear room of the bank. After a while
+Braman and Corrigan entered the banking room. The light from the rear room
+shone on them for an instant and I recognized them. They were at the safe.
+When they went out they left the safe door open. After a while the light
+went out and I saw Corrigan come from around the rear of the building,
+recross the street and come into the _Castle_. You men are blind. Corrigan
+is a crook who will stop at nothing. If you let him injure Trevison for a
+crime that Trevison did not commit you deserve to be robbed!"
+
+Lefingwell swung her down from his shoulder.
+
+"I reckon that cinches it, boys!" he bellowed over the heads of the men
+nearest him. "There ain't nothin' plainer! If we stand for this we're a
+bunch of cowardly coyotes that ain't fit to look Trevison in the face! I'm
+goin' to help him! Who's comin' along?"
+
+A chorus of shouts drowned his last words; the crowd was in motion, swift,
+with definite purpose. It melted, streaming off in all directions, like
+the sweep of water from a bursted dam. It broke at the doors of the
+buildings; it sought the stables. Men bearing rifles appeared in the
+street, mounting horses and congregating in front of the _Belmont_, where
+Lefingwell had gone. Other men, on the board sidewalk and in the dust of
+the street, were running, shouting, gesticulating. In an instant the town
+had become a bedlam of portentous force; it was the first time in its
+history that the people of Manti had looked with collective vision, and
+the girl reeled against the iron wall of the shed, appalled at the
+resistless power that had been set in motion. On a night when she sat on
+the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse she had looked toward Manti, thrilled
+over a pretty mental fancy. She had thought it all a game--wondrous,
+joyous, progressive. She had neglected to associate justice with it
+then--the inexorable rule of fairness under which every player of the game
+must bow. She brought it into use now, felt the spirit of it, saw the dire
+tragedy that its perversion portended, groaned, and covered her face with
+her hands.
+
+She looked around after a while. She saw Judge Lindman walking across the
+street toward the _Castle_, supported by two other men. A third followed;
+she did not know him, but Corrigan would have recognized him as the hotel
+clerk who had grown confidential upon a certain day. The girl heard his
+voice as he followed after the Judge and the others--raucous, vindictive:
+
+"We need men like Trevison in this town. We can get along without any
+Corrigans."
+
+She heard a voice behind her and she turned, swiftly, to see Hester Harvey
+walking toward her. She would have avoided the meeting, but she saw that
+Hester was intent on speaking and she drew herself erect, bowing to her
+with cold courtesy as the woman stopped within a step of her and smiled.
+
+"You look ready to flop into hysterics, dearie! Won't you come over to my
+room with me and have something to brace you up? A cup of tea?" she added
+with a laugh as Rosalind looked quickly at her. She did not seem to notice
+the stiffening of the girl's body, but linked her arm within her own and
+began to walk across the street. The girl was racked with emotion over the
+excitement of the morning, the dread of impending violence, and half
+frantic with anxiety over Trevison's safety. Hester's offense against her
+seemed vague and far, and very insignificant, relatively. She yearned to
+exchange confidences with somebody--anybody, and this woman, even though
+she were what she thought her, had a capacity for feeling, for sympathy.
+And she was very, very tired of it all.
+
+"It was fierce, wasn't it?" said Hester a few minutes later in the privacy
+of her room, as she balanced her cup and watched Rosalind as the girl ate,
+hungrily. "These sagebrush rough-necks out here will make Corrigan hump
+himself to keep out of their way. But he deserves it, the crook!"
+
+The girl looked curiously at the other, trying hard to reconcile the
+vindictiveness of these words and the woman's previous action in giving
+damaging testimony against Corrigan, with the significant fact that
+Corrigan had been in her room the night before, presumably as a guest.
+Hester caught the look and laughed. "Yes, dearie, he deserves it. How much
+do you know of what has been going on here?"
+
+"Very little, I am afraid."
+
+"Less than that, I suspect. I happen to know considerable, and I am going
+to tell you about it. My trip out here has been a sort of a wild-goose
+chase. I thought I wanted Trevison, but I've discovered I'm not badly hurt
+by his refusal to resume our old relations."
+
+The girl gasped and almost dropped her cup, setting it down slowly
+afterward and staring at her hostess with doubting, fearing, incredulous
+eyes.
+
+"Yes, dearie," laughed the other, with a trace of embarrassment; "you can
+trust your ears on that statement. To make certain, I'll repeat it: I am
+not very badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations. Do you
+know what that means? It means that he turned me down cold, dearie."
+
+"Do you mean--" began the girl, gripping the table edge.
+
+"I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over to Trevison's ranch he
+told me plainly that he didn't like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. He
+wouldn't kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way. He told me he'd
+got over it, the same as he'd got over his measles days--he'd outgrown it
+and was going to throw himself at the feet of another goddess. Oh, yes, he
+meant you!" she laughed, her voice a little too high, perhaps, with an odd
+note of bitterness in it. "Then, determined to blot my rival out, I lied
+about you. I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you were in the
+game to rob him of his land. Oh, I blackened you, dearie! It hurt him,
+too. For when a man like Trevison loves a woman--"
+
+"How could you!" said the girl, shuddering.
+
+"Please don't get dramatic," jeered the other. "The rules that govern the
+love game are very elastic--for some women. I played it strong, but there
+was no chance for me from the beginning. Trevison thinks you are
+Corrigan's trump card in this game. It _is_ a game, isn't it. But he loves
+you in spite of it all. He told me he'd go to the gallows for you. Aren't
+men the sillies! But just the same, dearie, we women like to hear them
+murmur those little heroic things, don't we? It was on the night I told
+him you'd told Corrigan about the dynamiting."
+
+"Oh!" said the girl.
+
+"That was my high card," laughed the woman, harshly. "He took it and
+derided me. I decided right then that I wouldn't play any more."
+
+"Then he didn't send for you?"
+
+"Corrigan did that, dearie."
+
+"You--you knew Corrigan before--before you came here?"
+
+"You _can_ guess intelligently, can't you?"
+
+"Corrigan planned it _all_?"
+
+"All." Hester watched as the girl bowed her head and sobbed convulsively.
+
+"What a brazen, crafty and unprincipled _thing_ Trevison must think me!"
+
+Hester reached out a hand and laid it on the girl's. "I--there was a time
+when I would have done murder to have him think of me as he thinks of you,
+dearie. He isn't for me, though, and I can't spoil any woman's happiness.
+There's little enough--but I'm not going to philosophize. I was going away
+without telling you this. I don't know why I am telling it now. I always
+was a little soft. But if you hadn't spoken as you did a while ago in that
+crowd--taking Trevison's end--I--I think you'd never have known. Somehow,
+it seemed you deserved him, dearie. And I couldn't bear to--to think of
+him facing any more disappointment. He--he took it so--"
+
+The girl looked up, to see the woman's eyes filling with a luminous mist.
+A quick conception of what this all meant to the woman thrilled the girl.
+She got up and walked to the woman's side. "I'm _so_ sorry, Hester," she
+said as her arms stole around the other's neck.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+She went out a little later, into the glaring, shimmering sunlight of the
+morning, her cheeks red, her eyes aglow, her heart racing wildly, to see
+an engine and a luxurious private car just pulling from the main track to
+a switch.
+
+"Oh," she whispered, joyously; "it's father's!"
+
+And she ran toward it, tingling with a new-found hope.
+
+In her room at the _Castle_ sat a woman who was finding the world very
+empty. It held nothing for her except the sad consolation of repentance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE FIGHT
+
+
+"The boss is sure a she-wolf at playin' a lone hand," growled Barkwell,
+shortly after dusk, to Jud Weaver, the straw boss. "Seems he thinks his
+friends is delicate ornaments which any use would bust to smithereens.
+Here's his outfit layin' around, bitin' their finger nails with ongwee an'
+pinin' away to slivers yearnin' to get into the big meal-lee, an' him
+racin' an' tearin' around the country fightin' it out by his lonesome. I
+call it rank selfishness!"
+
+"He sure ought to have give us a chancst to claw the hair outen that
+damned Corrigan feller!" complained Weaver. "In some ways, though, I'm
+sorta glad the damned mine was blew up. 'Firebrand' would have sure got
+a-hold of her some day, an' then we'd be clawin' at the bowels of the
+earth instid of galivantin' around on our cayuses like gentlemen. I reckon
+things is all for the best."
+
+The two had come in from the river range ostensibly to confer with
+Trevison regarding their work, but in reality to satisfy their curiosity
+over Trevison's movements. There was a deep current of concern for him
+under their accusations.
+
+They had found the ranchhouse dark and deserted. But the office door was
+open and they had entered, prepared supper, ate with a more than ordinary
+mingling of conversation with their food, and not lighting the lamps had
+gone out on the gallery for a smoke.
+
+"He ain't done any sleepin' to amount to much in the last forty-eight
+hours, to my knowin'," remarked Barkwell; "unless he's done his sleepin'
+on the run--an' that ain't in no ways a comfortable way. He's sure to be
+driftin' in here, soon."
+
+"This here country's goin' to hell, certain!" declared Weaver, after an
+hour of silence. "She's gettin' too eastern an' flighty. Railroads an'
+dams an' hotels with bath tubs for every six or seven rooms, an'
+resterawnts with filleedegree palms an' leather chairs an' slick eats is
+eatin' the gizzard outen her. Railroads is all right in their place--which
+is where folks ain't got no cayuses to fork an' therefore has to hoof
+it--or--or ride the damn railroad."
+
+"Correct!" agreed Barkwell; "she's a-goin' the way Rome went--an
+Babylone--an' Cincinnati--after I left. She runs to a pussy-cafe
+aristocracy--_an'_ napkins."
+
+"She'll be plumb ruined--follerin' them foreign styles. The Uhmerican
+people ain't got no right to adopt none of them new-fangled notions."
+Weaver stared glumly into the darkening plains.
+
+They aired their discontent long. Directed at the town it relieved the
+pressure of their resentment over Trevison's habit of depending upon
+himself. For, secretly, both were interested admirers of Manti's growing
+importance.
+
+Time was measured by their desires. Sometime before midnight Barkwell got
+up, yawned and stretched.
+
+"Sleep suits me. If 'Firebrand' ain't reckonin' on a guardian, I ain't
+surprisin' him none. He's mighty close-mouthed about his doin's, anyway."
+
+"You're shoutin'. I ain't never seen a man any stingier about hidin' away
+his doin's. He just nacherly hawgs all the trouble."
+
+Weaver got up and sauntered to the far end of the gallery, leaning far out
+to look toward Manti. His sharp exclamation brought Barkwell leaping to
+his side, and they both watched in perplexity a faint glow in the sky in
+the direction of the town. It died down as they watched.
+
+"Fire--looks like," Weaver growled. "We're always too late to horn in on
+any excitement."
+
+"Uh, huh," grunted Barkwell. He was staring intently at the plains,
+faintly discernable in the starlight. "There's horses out there, Jud!
+Three or four, an' they're comin' like hell!"
+
+They slipped off the gallery into the shadow of some trees, both
+instinctively feeling of their holsters. Standing thus they waited.
+
+The faint beat of hoofs came unmistakably to them. They grew louder,
+drumming over the hard sand of the plains, and presently four dark figures
+loomed out of the night and came plunging toward the gallery. They came to
+a halt at the gallery edge, and were about to dismount when Barkwell's
+voice, cold and truculent, issued from the shadow of the trees:
+
+"What's eatin' you guys?"
+
+There was a short, pregnant silence, and then one of the men laughed.
+
+"Who are you?" He urged his horse forward. But he was brought to a quick
+halt when Barkwell's voice came again:
+
+"Talk from where you are!"
+
+"That goes," laughed the man. "Trevison here?"
+
+"What you wantin' of him?"
+
+"Plenty. We're deputies. Trevison burned the courthouse and the bank
+tonight--and killed Braman. We're after him."
+
+"Well, he ain't here." Barkwell laughed. "Burned the courthouse, did he?
+An' the bank? An' killed Braman? Well, you got to admit that's a pretty
+good night's work. An' you're wantin' him!" Barkwell's voice leaped; he
+spoke in short, snappy, metallic sentences that betrayed passion long
+restrained, breaking his self-control. "You're deputies, eh? Corrigan's
+whelps! Sneaks! Coyotes! Well, you slope--you hear? When I count three, I
+down you! One! Two! Three!"
+
+His six-shooter stabbed the darkness at the last word. And at his side
+Weaver's pistol barked viciously. But the deputies had started at the word
+"One," and though Barkwell, noting the scurrying of their horses, cut the
+final words sharply, the four figures were vague and shadowy when the
+first pistol shot smote the air. Not a report floated back to the ears of
+the two men. They watched, with grim pouts on their lips, until the men
+vanished in the star haze of the plains. Then Barkwell spoke, raucously:
+
+"Well, we've broke in the game, Jud. We're Simon-pure outlaws--like our
+boss. I got one of them scum--I seen him grab leather. We'll all get in,
+now. They're after our boss, eh? Well, damn 'em, we'll show 'em! They's
+eight of the boys on the south fork. You get 'em, bring 'em here an' get
+rifles. I'll hit the breeze to the basin an' rustle the others!" He was
+running at the last word, and presently two horses raced out of the corral
+gates, clattered past the bunk-house and were swallowed in the vast, black
+space.
+
+Half an hour later the entire outfit--twenty men besides Barkwell and
+Weaver--left the ranchhouse and spread, fan-wise, over the plains west of
+Manti.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They lost all sense of time. Several of them had ridden to Manti, making a
+round of the places that were still open, but had returned, with no word
+of Trevison. Corrigan had claimed to have seen him. But then, a man told
+his questioner, Corrigan claimed Trevison had choked the banker to death.
+He could believe both claims, or neither. So far as the man himself was
+concerned, he was not going to commit himself. But if Trevison had done
+the job, he'd done it well. The seekers after information rode out of
+Manti on the run. At some time after midnight the entire outfit was
+grouped near Clay Levins' house.
+
+They held a short conference, and then Barkwell rode forward and hammered
+on the door of the cabin.
+
+"We're wantin' Clay, ma'am," said Barkwell in answer to the scared inquiry
+that filtered through the closed door. "It's the Diamond K outfit."
+
+"What do you want him for?"
+
+"We was thinkin' that mebbe he'd know where 'Firebrand' is. 'Firebrand' is
+sort of lost, I reckon."
+
+The door flew open and Mrs. Levins, like a pale ghost, appeared in the
+opening. "Trevison and Clay left here tonight. I didn't look to see what
+time. Oh, I hope nothing has happened to them!"
+
+They quieted her fears and fled out into the plains again, charging
+themselves with stupidity for not being more diplomatic in dealing with
+Mrs. Levins. During the early hours of the morning they rode again to the
+Diamond K ranchhouse, thinking that perhaps Trevison had slipped by them
+and returned. But Trevison had not returned, and the outfit gathered in
+the timber near the house in the faint light of the breaking dawn,
+disgusted, their horses jaded.
+
+"It's mighty hard work tryin' to be an outlaw in this damned dude-ridden
+country," wailed the disappointed Weaver. "Outlaws usual have a den or a
+cave or a mountain fastness, or somethin', anyhow--accordin' to all the
+literchoor I've read on the subject. If 'Firebrand's' got one, he's mighty
+bashful about mentionin' it."
+
+"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Barkwell, weakly. "My brains is sure ready for the
+mourners! Where's 'Firebrand'? Why, where would you expect a man to be
+that'd burned up a courthouse an' a bank an' salivated a banker? He'd be
+hidin' out, wouldn't he, you mis'able box-head! Would he come driftin'
+back to the home ranch, an' come out when them damn deputies come along,
+bowin' an' scrapin' an' sayin': 'I'm here, gentlemen--I've been waitin'
+for you to come an' try rope on me, so's you'd be sure to get a good fit!'
+Would he? You're mighty right he--wouldn't! He'd be populatin' that old
+pueblo that he's been tellin' me for years would make a good fort!" His
+horse leaped as he drove the spurs in, cruelly, but at the distance of a
+hundred yards he was not more than a few feet in advance of the
+others--and they, disregarding the rules of the game--were trying to pass
+him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"There ain't a bit of sense of takin' any risk," objected Levins from the
+security of the communal chamber, as Trevison peered cautiously around a
+corner of the adobe house. "It'd be just the luck of one of them critters
+if they'd pot you."
+
+"I'm not thinking of offering myself as a target for them," the other
+laughed. "They're still there," he added a minute later as he stepped into
+the chamber. "Them shooting you as they did, without warning, seems to
+indicate that they've orders to wipe us out, if possible. They're
+deputies. I bumped into Corrigan right after I left the bank building, and
+I suppose he has set them on us."
+
+"I reckon so. Seems it ain't possible, though," Levins added, doubtfully.
+"They was here before you come. Your Nigger horse ain't takin' no dust. I
+reckon you didn't stop anywheres?"
+
+"At the Bar B." Trevison made this admission with some embarrassment.
+
+But Levins did not reproach him--he merely groaned, eloquently.
+
+Trevison leaned against the opening of the chamber. His muscles ached; he
+was in the grip of a mighty weariness. Nature was protesting against the
+great strain that he had placed upon her. But his jaws set as he felt the
+flesh of his legs quivering; he grinned the derisive grin of the fighter
+whose will and courage outlast his physical strength. He felt a pulse of
+contempt for himself, and mingling with it was a strange elation--the
+thought that Rosalind Benham had strengthened his failing body, had
+provided it with the fuel necessary to keep it going for hours yet--as it
+must. He did not trust himself to yield to his passions as he stood
+there--that might have caused him to grow reckless. He permitted the
+weariness of his body to soothe his brain; over him stole a great calm. He
+assured himself that he could throw it off any time.
+
+But he had deceived himself. Nature had almost reached the limit of
+effort, and the inevitable slow reaction was taking place. The tired body
+could be forced on for a while yet, obeying the lethargic impulses of an
+equally tired brain, but the break would come. At this moment he was
+oppressed with a sense of the unreality of it all. The pueblo seemed like
+an ancient city of his dreams; the adobe houses details of a weird
+phantasmagoria; his adventures of the past forty-eight hours a succession
+of wild imaginings which he now reviewed with a sort of detached interest,
+as though he had watched them from afar.
+
+The moonlight shone on him; he heard Levins exclaim sharply: "Your arm's
+busted, ain't it?"
+
+He started, swayed, and caught himself, laughing lowly, guiltily, for he
+realized that he had almost fallen asleep, standing. He held the arm up to
+the moonlight, examining it, dropping it with a deprecatory word. He
+settled against the wall near the opening again.
+
+"Hell!" declared Levins, anxiously, "you're all in!"
+
+Trevison did not answer. He stole along the outside wall of the adobe
+house and peered out into the plains. The men were still where they had
+been when the shot had been fired, and the sight of them brought a cold
+grin to his face. He backed away from the corner, dropped to his stomach
+and wriggled his way back to the corner, shoving his rifle in front of
+him. He aimed the weapon deliberately, and pulled the trigger. At the
+flash a smothered cry floated up to him, and he drew back, the thud of
+bullets against the adobe walls accompanying him.
+
+"That leaves seven, Levins," he said grimly. "Looks like my trip to Santa
+Fe is off, eh?" he laughed. "Well, I've always had a yearning to be
+besieged, and I'll make it mighty interesting for those fellows. Do you
+think you can cover that slope, so they can't get up there while I'm
+reconnoitering? It would be certain death for me to stick my head around
+that corner again."
+
+At Levins' emphatic affirmative he was helped to the shelter of a recess,
+from where he had a view of the slope, though himself protected by a
+corner of one of the houses; placed a rifle in the wounded man's hands,
+and carrying his own, vanished into one of the dark passages that weaved
+through the pueblo.
+
+He went only a short distance. Emerging from an opening in one of the
+adobe houses he saw a parapet wall, sadly crumpled in spots, facing the
+plains, and he dropped to his hands and knees and crept toward it,
+secreting himself behind it and prodding the wall cautiously with the
+barrel of his rifle until he found a joint in the stone work where the
+adobe mud was rotted. He poked the muzzle of the rifle through the
+crevice, took careful aim, and had the satisfaction of hearing a savage
+curse in the instant following the flash. He threw himself flat
+immediately, listening to the spatter and whine of the bullets of the
+volley that greeted his shot. They kept it up long--but when there was a
+momentary cessation he crept back to the entrance of the adobe house,
+entered, followed another passage and came out on the ledge farther along
+the side of the pueblo. He halted in a dense shadow and looked toward the
+spot where the men had been. They had vanished.
+
+There was nothing to do but to wait, and he sank behind a huge block of
+stone in an angle of the ledge, noting with satisfaction that he could see
+the slope that he had set Levins to guard.
+
+"I'm the boss of this fort if I don't go to sleep," he told himself grimly
+as he stretched out. He lay there, watching, while the moonlight faded,
+while a gray streak in the east slowly widened, presaging the dawn.
+Stretched flat, his aching muscles welcoming the support of the cool stone
+of the ledge, he had to fight off the drowsiness that assailed him.
+
+An hour dragged by. He knew the deputies were watching, no doubt having
+separated to conceal themselves behind convenient boulders that dotted the
+plains at the foot of the slope. Or perhaps while he had been in the
+passages of the pueblo, changing his position, some of them might have
+stolen to the numerous crags and outcroppings of rock at the base of the
+pueblo. They might now be massing for a rush up the slope. But he doubted
+they would risk the latter move, for they knew that he must be on the
+alert, and they had cause to fear his rifle.
+
+Once he rested his head on his extended right arm, and the contact was so
+agreeable that he allowed it to remain there--long. He caught himself in
+time; in another second he would have been too late. He saw the figure of
+a man on the slope a foot or two below the crest. He was flat on his
+stomach, no doubt having crept there during the minutes that Trevison had
+been enjoying his rest, and at the instant Trevison saw him he was raising
+his rifle, directing it at the recess where Levins had been left, on
+guard.
+
+Trevison was wide awake now, and his marksmanship as deadly as ever. He
+waited until the man's rifle came to a level. Then his own weapon spat
+viciously. The man rose to his knees, reeling. Another rifle cracked--from
+the recess where Levins was concealed, this time--and the man sank to the
+dust of the slope, rolling over and over until he reached the bottom,
+where he stretched out and lay prone. There was a shout of rage from a
+section of rock-strewn level near the foot of the slope, and Trevison's
+lips curled with satisfaction. The second shot had told him that a fear he
+had entertained momentarily was unfounded--Levins was apparently quite
+alive.
+
+He raised himself cautiously, backed away from the rock behind which he
+had been concealed, and wheeled, intending to join Levins. A faint sound
+reached his ears from the plains, and he faced around again, to see a
+group of horsemen riding toward the pueblo. They were coming fast, racing
+ahead of a dust cloud, and were perhaps a quarter of a mile distant. But
+Trevison knew them, and stepped boldly out to the edge of the stone ledge
+waving his hat to them, laughing full-throatedly, his voice vibrating a
+little as he spoke:
+
+"Good old Barkwell!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That's him!"
+
+Barkwell pulled his horse to a sliding halt as he saw the figure on the
+pueblo, outlined distinctly in the clear white light of the dawn.
+
+"He's all right!" he declared to the others as they followed his example
+and drew their beasts down. "Them's some of the scum that's been after
+him," he added as several horsemen swept around the far side of the
+pueblo. "It was them we heard shootin'." The outfit sat silent on their
+horses and watched the men ride over the plains toward another group of
+horsemen that the Diamond K men had observed some time before riding
+toward the pueblo,
+
+"Yep!" Barkwell said, now; "that other bunch is deputies, too. It's mighty
+plain. This bunch rounded up 'Firebrand' an' sent some one back for
+reinforcements." He swept the Diamond K outfit with a snarling smile.
+"They're goin' to need 'em, too! I reckon we'd better wait for them to
+play their hand. It's about a stand off in numbers. We don't stand no
+slack, boys. We're outlawed already, from the ruckus of last night, an' if
+they start anything we've got to wipe 'em out! You heard 'em shootin' at
+the boss, an' they ain't no pussy-kitten bunch! I'll do the gassin'--if
+there's any to be done--an' when I draw, you guys do your damnedest!"
+
+The outfit set itself to wait. Over on the edge of the pueblo they could
+see Trevison. He was bending over something, and when they saw him stoop
+and lift the object, heaving it to his shoulder and walking away with it,
+a sullen murmur ran over the outfit, and lips grew stiff and white with
+rage.
+
+"It's Clay Levins, boys!" said Barkwell. "They've plugged him! Do you
+reckon we've got to go back to Levins' shack an' tell his wife that we let
+them skunks get away after makin' orphants of her kids?"
+
+"I'm jumpin'!" shrieked Jud Weaver, his voice coming chokingly with
+passion. "I ain't waitin' one damned minute for any palaver! Either them
+deputies is wiped out, or I am!" He dug the spurs into his horse, drawing
+his six-shooter as the animal leaped.
+
+Weaver's horse led the outfit by only three or four jumps, and they swept
+over the level like a devastating cyclone, the spiral dust cloud that rose
+behind them following them lazily, sucked along by the wind of their
+passing.
+
+The group of deputies had halted; they were sitting tense and silent in
+their saddles when the Diamond K outfit came up, slowing down as they drew
+nearer, and halting within ten feet of the others, spreading out in a
+crude semi-circle, so that each man had an unobstructed view of the
+deputies.
+
+Barkwell had no chance to talk. Before he could get his breath after
+pulling his horse down, Weaver, his six-shooter in hand, its muzzle
+directed fairly at Gieger, who was slightly in advance of his men, fumed
+forth:
+
+"What in hell do you-all mean by tryin' to herd-ride our boss? Talk fast,
+you eagle-beaked turkey buzzard, or I salivates you rapid!"
+
+The situation was one of intense delicacy. Gieger might have averted the
+threatening clash with a judicious use of soft, placating speech. But it
+pleased him to bluster.
+
+"We are deputies, acting under orders from the court. We are after a
+murderer, and we mean to get him!" he said, coldly.
+
+"Deputies! Hell!" Barkwell's voice rose, sharply scornful and mocking.
+"Deputies! Crooks! Gun-fighters! Pluguglies!" His eyes, bright, alert,
+gleaming like a bird's, were roving over the faces in the group of
+deputies. "A damn fine bunch of guys to represent the law! There's Dakota
+Dick, there! Tinhorn, rustler! There's Red Classen! Stage robber! An'
+Pepper Ridgely, a plain, ornery thief! An' Kid Dorgan, a sneakin' killer!
+An' Buff Keller, an' Andy Watts, an' Pig Mugley, an'--oh, hell! Deputies!
+Law!----Ah--hah!"
+
+One of the men had reached for his holster. Weaver's gun barked twice and
+the man pitched limply forward to his horse's neck. Other weapons flashed;
+the calm of the early morning was rent by the hoarse, guttural cries of
+men in the grip of the blood-lust, the sustained and venomous popping of
+pistols, the queer, sodden impact of lead against flesh, the terror-snorts
+of horses, and the grunts of men, falling heavily.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+A big man in khaki, loping his horse up the slope of an arroyo half a mile
+distant, started at the sound of the first shot and raced over the crest.
+He pulled the horse to an abrupt halt as his gaze swept the plains in
+front of him. He saw riderless horses running frantically away from a
+smoking blot, he saw the blot streaked with level, white smoke-spurts that
+ballooned upward quickly; he heard the dull, flat reports that followed
+the smoke-spurts.
+
+It seemed to be over in an instant. The blot split up, galloping horses
+and yelling men burst out of it. The big man had reached the crest of the
+arroyo at the critical second in which the balance of victory wavers
+uncertainly. With thrusting chin, lips in a hideous pout, and with sullen,
+blazing eyes, he watched the battle go against him. Fifteen cowboys--he
+counted them, deliberately, coldly, despite the rage-mania that had seized
+him--were spurring after eight other men whom he knew for his own. As he
+watched he saw two of these tumble from their horses. And at a distance he
+saw the loops of ropes swing out to enmesh four more--who were thrown and
+dragged; he watched darkly as the remaining two raised their hands above
+their heads. Then his lips came out of their pout and were wreathed in a
+bitter snarl.
+
+"Licked!" he muttered. "Twelve put out of business. But there's thirty
+more--if the damn fools have come in to town! That's two to one!" He
+laughed, wheeled his horse toward Manti, rode a few feet down the slope of
+the arroyo, halted and sat motionless in the saddle, looking back. He
+smiled with cold satisfaction. "Lucky for me that cinch strap broke," he
+said.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Trevison was placing Levins' limp form across the saddle on Nigger's back
+when the faint morning breeze bore to his ears the report of Weaver's
+pistol. A rattling volley followed the first report, and Trevison led
+Nigger close to the edge of the ledge in time to observe the battle as
+Corrigan had seen it. He hurried Nigger down the slope, but he had to be
+careful with his burden. Reaching the level he lifted Levins off, laid him
+gently on the top of a huge flat rock, and then leaped into the saddle and
+sent Nigger tearing over the plains toward the scene of the battle.
+
+It was over when he arrived. A dozen men were lying in the tall grass.
+Some were groaning, writhing; others were quiet and motionless. Four or
+five of them were arrayed in chaps. His lips grimmed as his gaze swept
+them. He dismounted and went to them, one after another. He stooped long
+over one.
+
+"They've got Weaver," he heard a voice say. And he started and looked
+around, and seeing no one near, knew it was his own voice that he heard.
+It was dry and light--as a man's voice might be who has run far and fast.
+He stood for a while, looking down at Weaver. His brain was reeling, as it
+had reeled over on the ledge of the pueblo a few minutes before, when he
+had discovered a certain thing. It was not a weakness; it was a surge of
+reviving rage, an accession of passion that made his head swim with its
+potency, made his muscles swell with a strength that he had not known for
+many hours. Never in his life had he felt more like crying. His emotions
+seared his soul as a white-hot iron sears the flesh; they burned into him,
+scorching his pity and his impulses of mercy, withering them, blighting
+them. He heard himself whining sibilantly, as he had heard boys whine when
+fighting, with eagerness and lust for blows. It was the insensate, raging
+fury of the fight-madness that had gripped him, and he suddenly yielded to
+it and raised his head, laughing harshly, with panting, labored breath.
+
+Barkwell rode up to him, speaking hoarsely: "We come pretty near wipin'
+'em out, 'Firebrand!'"
+
+He looked up at his foreman, and the latter's face blanched. "God!" he
+said. He whispered to a cowboy who had joined him: "The boss is pretty
+near loco--looks like!"
+
+"They've killed Weaver," muttered Trevison. "He's here. They killed Clay,
+too--he's down on a rock near the slope." He laughed, and tightened his
+belt. The record book which he had carried in his waistband all along
+interfered with this work, and he drew it out, throwing it from him. "Clay
+was worth a thousand of them!"
+
+Barkwell got down and seized the book, watching Trevison closely.
+
+"Look here, Boss," he said, as Trevison ran to his horse and threw himself
+into the saddle; "you're bushed, mighty near--"
+
+If Trevison heard his first words he had paid no attention to them. He
+could not have heard the last words, for Nigger had lunged forward,
+running with great, long, catlike leaps in the direction of Manti.
+
+"Good God!" yelled Barkwell to some of the men who had ridden up; "the
+damn fool is goin' to town! They'll salivate him, sure as hell! Some of
+you stay here--two's enough! The rest of you come along with me!"
+
+They were after Trevison within a few seconds, but the black horse was far
+ahead, running without hitch or stumble, as straight toward Manti as his
+willing muscles and his loyal heart could take him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Corrigan had seen the black bolt that had rushed toward him out of the
+spot where the blot had been. He cursed hoarsely and drove the spurs deep
+into the flanks of his horse, and the animal, squealing with pain and
+fury, leaped down the side of the arroyo, crossed the bottom in two or
+three bounds and stretched away toward Manti.
+
+A cold fear had seized the big man's heart. It made a sweat break out on
+his forehead, it caused his hand to tremble as he flung it around to his
+hip in search of his pistol. He tried to shake the feeling off, but it
+clung insistently to him, making him catch his breath. His horse was big,
+rangy, and strong, but he forced it to such a pace during the first mile
+of the ride that he could feel its muscles quivering under the saddle
+skirts. And he looked back at the end of the mile, to see the black horse
+at about the same distance from him; possibly the distance had been
+shortened. It seemed to Corrigan that he had never seen a horse that
+traveled as smoothly and evenly as the big black, or that ran with as
+little effort. He began to loathe the black with an intensity equaled only
+by that which he felt for his rider.
+
+He held his lead for another mile. Glancing back a little later he noted
+with a quickening pulse that the distance had been shortened by several
+hundred feet, and that the black seemed to be traveling with as little
+effort as ever. Also, for the first time, Corrigan noticed the presence of
+other riders, behind Trevison. They were topping a slight rise at the
+instant he glanced back, and were at least a mile behind his pursuer.
+
+At first, mingled with his fear, Corrigan had felt a slight disgust for
+himself in yielding to his sudden panic. He had never been in the habit of
+running. He had been as proud of his courage as he had been of his
+cleverness and his keenness in planning and plotting. It had been his
+mental boast that in every crisis his nerve was coldest. But now he nursed
+a vagrant, furtive hope that waiting for him at Manti would be some of
+those men whom he had hired at his own expense to impersonate deputies.
+The presence of the hope was as inexplicable as the fear that had set him
+to running from Trevison. Two or three weeks ago he would have faced both
+Trevison and his men and brazened it out. But of late a growing dread of
+the man had seized him. Never before had he met a man who refused to be
+beaten, or who had fought him as recklessly and relentlessly.
+
+He jeered at himself as he rode, telling himself that when Trevison got
+near enough he would stand and have it out with him--for he knew that the
+fight had narrowed down between them until it was as Trevison had said,
+man to man--but as he rode his breath came faster, his backward glances
+grew more frequent and fearful, and the cold sweat on his forehead grew
+clammy. Fear, naked and shameful, had seized him.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Behind him, lean, gaunt, haggard; seeing nothing but the big man ahead of
+him, feeling nothing but an insane desire to maim or slay him, rode a man
+who in forty-eight hours had been transformed from a frank, guileless,
+plain-speaking human, to a rage-drunken savage--a monomaniac who, as he
+leaned over Nigger's mane, whispered and whined and mewed, as his
+forebears, in some tropical jungle, voiced their passions when they set
+forth to slay those who had sought to despoil them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE DREGS
+
+
+When the Benham private car came to a stop on the switch, Rosalind swung
+up the steps and upon the platform just as J. C., ruddy, smiling and
+bland, opened the door. She was in his arms in an instant, murmuring her
+joy. He stroked her hair, then held her off for a good look at her, and
+inquired, unctuously:
+
+"What are you doing in town so early, my dear?"
+
+"Oh!" She hid her face on his shoulder, reluctant to tell him. But she
+knew he must be told, and so she steeled herself, stepping back and
+looking at him, her heart pounding madly.
+
+"Father; these people have discovered that Corrigan has been trying to
+cheat them!"
+
+She would have gone on, but the sickly, ghastly pallor of his face
+frightened her. She swayed and leaned against the railing of the platform,
+a sinking, deadly apprehension gnawing at her, for it seemed from the
+expression of J. C.'s face that he had some knowledge of Corrigan's
+intentions. But J. C. had been through too many crises to surrender at the
+first shot in this one. Still he got a good grip on himself before he
+attempted to answer, and then his voice was low and intoned with casual
+surprise:
+
+"Trying to cheat them? How, my dear?"
+
+"By trying to take their land from them. You had no knowledge of it,
+Father?"
+
+"Who has been saying that?" he demanded, with a fairly good pretense of
+righteous anger.
+
+"Nobody. But I thought--I--Oh, thank God!"
+
+"Well, well," he bluffed with faint reproach; "things are coming to a
+pretty pass when one's own daughter is the first to suspect him of
+wrong-doing."
+
+"I didn't, Father. I was merely--I don't know what I _did_ think! There
+has been so much excitement! Everything is _so_ upset! They have blown up
+the mining machinery, burned the bank and the courthouse; Judge Lindman
+was abducted and found; Braman was killed--choked to death; the Vigilantes
+are--"
+
+"Good God!" Benham interrupted her, staggering back against the rear of
+the coach. "Who has been at the bottom of all this lawlessness?"
+
+"Trevison."
+
+He gasped, in spite of the fact that he had suspected what her answer
+would be.
+
+"Where is Corrigan? Where's Trevison?" He demanded, his hands shaking.
+"Answer me! Where are they?"
+
+"I don't know," the girl returned, dully. "They say Trevison is hiding in
+a pueblo not far from the Bar B. And that Corrigan left here early this
+morning, with a number of deputies, to try to capture him. And those
+men--" She indicated the horsemen gathered in front of the _Belmont_, whom
+he had not seen, "are organizing to go to Trevison's rescue. They have
+discovered that Corrigan murdered Braman, though Corrigan accused
+Trevison."
+
+J. C. flattened himself against the rear wall of the coach and looked with
+horror upon the armed riders. There were forty or fifty of them now, and
+others were joining the group. "Where's Judge Lindman?" he faltered.
+"Can't this lawlessness be stopped?"
+
+"It is only a few minutes ago that Judge Lindman was dragged from a shed
+into which he had been forced by Corrigan--after being beaten by him. He
+made a public confession of his part in the attempted fraud, and charged
+Corrigan with coercing him. Those men are aroused, Father. I don't know
+what the end will be, but I am afraid--I'm afraid they'll--"
+
+"I shall give the engineer orders to pull my car out of here!" J. C.'s
+face was chalky white.
+
+"No, no!" cried the girl, sharply. "That would make them think you
+were--Don't _run_, Father!" she begged, omitting the word which she
+dreaded to think might become attached to him should he go away, now that
+some of them had seen him. "We'll stand our ground, Father. If Corrigan
+has done those things he deserves to be punished!" Her lips, white and
+stiff, closed firmly.
+
+"Yes, yes," he said; "that's right--we won't run." But he drew her inside,
+despite her objections, and from a window they watched the members of the
+Vigilantes gathering, bristling with weapons, a sinister and ominous arm
+of that law which is the dread and horror of the evil-doer.
+
+There came a movement, concerted, accompanied by a low rumble as of waves
+breaking on a rocky shore. It brought the girl out of her chair, through
+the door and upon the car platform, where she stood, her hands clasped
+over her breast, her breath coming gaspingly. His knees knocking together,
+his face the ashen gray of death, Benham stumbled after her. He did not
+want to go; did not care to see this thing--what might happen--what his
+terror told him _would_ happen; but he was forced out upon the platform by
+the sheer urge of a morbid curiosity that there was no denying; it had
+laid hold of his soul, and though he cringed and shivered and tottered, he
+went out, standing close to the iron rail, gripping it with hands that
+grew blueish-white around the knuckles; watching with eyes that bulged,
+his lips twitching over soundless words. For he could not hold himself
+guiltless in this thing; it could not have happened had he tempered his
+smug complacence with thoughts of justice. He groaned, gibbering, for he
+stood on the brink at this minute, looking down at the lashing sea of
+retribution.
+
+The girl paid no attention to him. She was watching the men down the
+street. The concerted movement had come from them. Nearly a hundred riders
+were on the move. Lefingwell, huge, grim, led them down the street toward
+the private car. For an instant the girl felt a throb of terror, thinking
+that they might have designs on the man who stood at the railing near her,
+unable to move--for he had the same thought. She murmured thankfully when
+they wheeled, and without looking in her direction loped their horses
+toward a wide, vacant space between some buildings, which led out into the
+plains, and through which she had ridden often when entering Manti.
+Watching the men, shuddering at the ominous aspect they presented, she saw
+a tremor run through them--as though they all formed one body. They came
+to a sudden stop. She heard a ripple of sound arise from them, amazement
+and anticipation. And then, as though with preconcerted design, though she
+had heard no word spoken, the group divided, splitting asunder with a
+precision that deepened the conviction of preconcertedness, ranging
+themselves on each side of the open space, leaving it gaping barrenly,
+unobstructed--a stretch of windrowed alkali dust, deep, light and
+feathery.
+
+Silence, like a stroke, fell over the town. The girl saw people running
+toward the open space, but they seemed to make no noise--they might have
+been dream people. And then, noting that they all stared in one direction,
+she looked over their heads. Not more than four or five hundred feet from
+the open space, and heading directly toward it, thundered a rider on a
+tall, strong, rangy horse. The beast's chest was foam-flecked, the white
+lather that billowed around its muzzle was stained darkly. But it came on
+with heart-breaking effort, giving its rider its all. Behind the first
+rider came a second, not more than fifty feet distant from the other, on a
+black horse which ran with no effort, seemingly, sliding along with great,
+smooth undulations, his mighty muscles flowing like living things under
+his glossy, somber coat.
+
+The girl saw the man on his back leaning forward, a snarling, terrible
+grin on his face. She saw the first rider wheel when he reached the edge
+of the open space near the waiting Vigilantes, bring his horse to a
+sliding halt and face toward his pursuer. He clawed at a hip pocket,
+drawing a pistol that flashed in the first rays of the morning sun--it
+belched fire and smoke in a continuous stream, seemingly straight at the
+rider of the black horse. One--two--three--four--five--six times! The girl
+counted. But the first man's hand wabbled, and the rider of the black
+horse came on like a demon astride a black bolt, a laugh of bitter
+derision on his lips. The black did not swerve. Straight and true in his
+headlong flight he struck the other horse. They went down in a smother of
+dust, the two horses grunting, scrambling and kicking. The girl had seen
+the rider of the black horse lunge forward at the instant of impact; he
+had thrown himself at the other man as she had seen football players
+launch themselves at players of the opposition, and they had both reeled
+out of their saddles to disappear in the smother of dust.
+
+Men left the fringe of the living wall flanking the open space and seized
+the two horses, leading them away. The smother drifted, and the girl
+screamed at sight of the two raging things that rolled and burrowed in the
+deep dust of the street.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+They got up as she watched them, springing apart hesitating for an awful
+instant to sob breath into their lungs; then they rushed together,
+striking bitter, sledge-hammer blows that sounded like the smashing of
+flat rocks, falling from a great height, on the surface of water. She
+shrieked once, wildly, beseeching someone to stop them, but no man paid
+any attention to her cry. They sat on their horses, silent, tense, grim,
+and she settled into a coma of terror, an icy paralysis gripping her. She
+heard her father muttering incoherently at her side, droning and puling
+something over and over in a wailing monotone--she caught it after a
+while; he was calling upon his God--in an hour that could not have been
+were it not for his own moral flaccidness.
+
+The dust under the feet of the fighting men leveled under their shifting,
+dragging feet; it bore the print of their bodies where they had lain and
+rolled in it; erupting volcanoes belched it heavily upward; it caught and
+gripped their legs to the ankles, making their movements slow and sodden.
+This condition favored the larger man. He lashed out a heavy fist that
+caught Trevison full and fair on the jaw, and the latter's face turned
+ashy white as he sank to his knees. Corrigan stopped to catch his breath
+before he hurled himself forward, and this respite, brief as it was,
+helped the other to shake off the deadening effect of the blow. He moved
+his head slightly as Corrigan swung at it, and the blow missed, its force
+pulling the big man off his feet, so that he tumbled headlong over his
+adversary. He was up again in a flash though, for he was fresher than his
+enemy. They clinched, and stood straining, matching strength against
+strength, sheer, without trickery, for the madness of murder was in the
+heart of one and the desperation of fear in the soul of the other, and
+they thought of nothing but to crush and batter and pound.
+
+Corrigan's strength was slightly the greater, but it was offset by the
+other's fury. In the clinch the big man's right hand came up, the heel of
+the palm shoved with malignant ferocity against Trevison's chin.
+Corrigan's left arm was around Trevison's waist, squeezing it like a vise,
+and the whole strength of Corrigan's right arm was exerted to force the
+other's head back. Trevison tried to slip his head sideways to escape the
+hold, but the effort was fruitless. Changing his tactics, his breath
+lagging in his throat from the terrible pressure on it, Trevison worked
+his right hand into the other's stomach with the force and regularity of a
+piston rod. The big man writhed under the punishment, dropping his hand
+from Trevison's chin to his waist, swung him from his feet and threw him
+from him as a man throws a bag of meal.
+
+He was after him before he landed, but the other writhed and wriggled in
+the air like a cat, and when the big man reached for him, trying again to
+clinch, he evaded the arm and landed a crushing blow on the other's chin
+that snapped his head back as though it were swung from a hinge, and sent
+him reeling, to his knees in the dust.
+
+The watching girl saw the ring of men around the fighters contract; she
+saw Trevison dive headlong at the kneeling man; with fingers working in a
+fury of impotence she swayed at the iron rail, leaning far over it, her
+eyes strained, her breath bated, constricting her lungs as though a steel
+band were around them. For she seemed to feel that the end was near.
+
+She saw them, locked in each other's embrace, stagger to their feet.
+Corrigan's head was wabbling. He was trying to hold the other to him that
+he might escape the lashing blows that were driven at his head. The girl
+saw his hold broken, and as he reeled, catching another blow in the mouth,
+he swung toward her and she saw that his lips were smashed, the blood from
+them trickling down over his chin. There was a gleam of wild, despairing
+terror in his eyes--revealing the dawning consciousness of approaching
+defeat, complete and terrible. She saw Trevison start another blow,
+swinging his fist upward from his knee. It landed with a sodden squish on
+the big man's jaw. His eyes snapped shut, and he dropped soundlessly, face
+down in the dust.
+
+For a space Trevison stood, swaying drunkenly, looking down at his beaten
+enemy. Then he drew himself erect with a mighty effort and swept the crowd
+with a glance, the fires of passion still leaping and smoldering in his
+eyes. He seemed for the first time to see the Vigilantes, to realize the
+significance of their presence, and as he wheeled slowly his lips parted
+in a grin of bitter satisfaction. He staggered around the form of his
+fallen enemy, his legs bending at the knees, his feet dragging in the
+dust. It seemed to the girl that he was waiting for Corrigan to get up
+that he might resume the fight, and she cried out protestingly. He wheeled
+at the sound of her voice and faced her, rocking back and forth on his
+heels and toes, and the glow of dull astonishment in his eyes told her
+that he was now for the first time aware of her presence. He bowed to her,
+gravely, losing his balance in the effort, reeling weakly to recover it.
+
+And then a crush of men blotted him out--the ring of Vigilantes had closed
+around him. She saw Barkwell lunging through the press to gain Trevison's
+side; she got a glimpse of him a minute later, near Trevison. The street
+had become a sea of jostling, shoving men and prancing horses. She wanted
+to get away--somewhere--to shut this sight from her eyes. For though one
+horror was over, another impended. She knew it, but could not move. A
+voice boomed hoarsely, commandingly, above the buzz of many others--it was
+Lefingwell's, and she cringed at the sound of it. There was a concerted
+movement; the Vigilantes were shoving the crowd back, clearing a space in
+the center. In the cleared space two men were lifting Corrigan to his
+feet. He was reeling in their grasp, his chin on his chest, his face
+dust-covered, disfigured, streaked with blood. He was conquered, his
+spirit broken, and her heart ached with pity for him despite her horror
+for his black deeds. The loop of a rope swung out as she watched; it fell
+with a horrible swish over Corrigan's head and was drawn taut, swiftly,
+and a hoarse roar of approval drowned her shriek.
+
+She heard Trevison's voice, muttering in protest, but his words, like her
+shriek, were lost in the confusion of sound. She saw him fling his arms
+wide, sending Barkwell and another man reeling from him; he reached for
+the pistol at his side and leveled it at the crowd. Those nearest him
+shrank, their faces blank with fear and astonishment. But the man with the
+rope stood firm, as did Lefingwell, grim, his face darkening with wrath.
+
+"This is the law actin' here, 'Firebrand,'" he said, his voice level.
+"You've done your bit, an' you're due to step back an' let justice take a
+hand. This here skunk has outraged every damned rule of decency an' honor.
+He's tried to steal all our land; he's corrupted our court, nearly guzzled
+Judge Lindman to death, killed Braman--an' Barkwell says the bunch of
+pluguglies he hired to pose as deputies, has killed Clay Levins an' four
+or five of the Diamond K men. That's plenty. We'd admire to give in to
+you. We'll do anything else you say. But this has got to be done."
+
+While Lefingwell had been talking two of the Vigilantes had slipped to the
+rear of Trevison. As Lefingwell concluded they leaped. The arms of one man
+went around Trevison's neck; the other man lunged low and pinned his arms
+to his sides, one hand grasping the pistol and wrenching it from his hand.
+The crowd closed again. The girl saw Corrigan lifted to the back of a
+horse, and she shut her eyes and hung dizzily to the railing, while tumult
+and confusion raged around her.
+
+She opened her eyes a little later, to see Barkwell and another man
+leading Trevison into the front door of the _Castle_. The street around
+the car was deserted, save for two or three men who were watching her
+curiously. She felt her father's arms around her, and she was led into the
+car, her knees shaking, her soul sick with the horror of it all.
+
+Half an hour later, as she sat at one of the windows, staring stonily out
+in the shimmering sunlight of the street, she saw some of the Vigilantes
+returning. She shrank back from the window, shuddering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE CALM
+
+
+The day seemed to endure for an age. Rosalind did not leave the car; she
+did not go near her father, shut up alone in his apartment; she ate
+nothing, ignoring the negro attendant when he told her that lunch was
+served, huddled in a chair beside an open window she decided a battle. She
+saw the forces of reason and justice rout the hosts of hatred and crime,
+and she got up finally, her face pallid, but resolute, secure in the
+knowledge that she had decided wisely. She pitied Corrigan. Had it been
+within her power she would have prevented the tragedy. And yet she could
+not blame these people. They were playing the game honestly, and their
+patience had been sadly strained by one player who had persisted in
+breaking the rules. He had been swept away by his peers, which was as fair
+a way as any law--any human law--could deal with him. In her own East he
+would have paid the same penalty. The method would have been more refined,
+to be sure; there would have been a long legal squabble, with its tedious
+delays, but in the end Corrigan would have paid. There was a retributive
+justice for all those who infracted the rules of the game. It had found
+Corrigan.
+
+At three o'clock in the afternoon she washed her face. The cool water
+refreshed her, and with reviving spirits she combed her hair, brushed the
+dust from her clothing, and looked into a mirror. There were dark hollows
+under her eyes, a haunting, dreading expression in them. For she could not
+help thinking about what had happened there--down the street where the
+Vigilantes had gone.
+
+She dropped listlessly into another chair beside a window, this time
+facing the station. She saw her horse, hitched to the rail at the station
+platform, where she had left it that morning. _That_ seemed to have been
+days ago! A period of aching calm had succeeded the tumult of the morning.
+The street was soundless, deserted. Those men who had played leading parts
+in the tragedy were not now visible. She would have deserted the town too,
+had it not been for her father. The tragedy had unnerved him, and she must
+stay with him until he recovered. She had asked the porter about him, and
+the latter had reported that he seemed to be asleep.
+
+A breeze carried a whisper to her as she sat at the window:
+
+"Where's 'Firebrand' now?" said a voice.
+
+"Sleepin'. The clerk in the _Castle_ says he's makin' up for lost time."
+
+She did not bother to try to see the owners of the voices; her gaze was on
+the plains, far and vast; and the sky, clear, with a pearly shimmer that
+dazzled her. She closed her eyes. She could not have told how long she
+slept. She awoke to the light touch of the porter, and she saw Trevison
+standing in the open doorway of the car.
+
+The dust of the battle had been removed. An admiring barber had worked
+carefully over him; a doctor had mended his arm. Except for a noticeable
+thinness of the face, and a certain drawn expression of the eyes, he was
+the same Trevison who had spoken so frankly to her one day out on the
+plains when he had taken her into his confidence. In the look that he gave
+her now was the same frankness, clouded a little, she thought, by some
+emotion--which she could not fathom.
+
+"I have come to apologize," he said; "for various unjust thoughts with
+which I have been obsessed." Before she could reply he had taken two or
+three swift steps and was standing over her, and was speaking again, his
+voice vibrant and regretful: "I ought to have known better than to
+think--what I did--of you. I have no excuses to make, except that I was
+insane with a fear that my ten years of labor and lonesomeness were to be
+wasted. I have just had a talk with Hester Harvey, and she has shown me
+what a fool I have been. She--"
+
+Rosalind got up, laughing lowly, tremulously. "I talked with Hester this
+morning. And I think--"
+
+"She told you--" he began, his voice leaping.
+
+"Many things." She looked straight at him, her eyes glowing, but they
+drooped under the heat of his. "You don't need to feel elated over
+it--there were two of us." She felt that the surge of joy that ran over
+her would have shown in her face had it not been for a sudden recollection
+of what the Vigilantes had done that morning. That recollection paled her
+cheeks and froze the smile on her lips.
+
+He was watching her closely and saw her face harden. A shadow passed over
+his own. He thought he could see the hopelessness of staying longer. "A
+woman's love," he said, gloomily, "is a wonderful thing. It clings through
+trouble and tragedy--never faltering." She looked at him, startled, trying
+to solve the enigma of this speech. He laughed, bitterly. "That's what
+makes a woman superior to mere man. Love exalts her. It makes a savage of
+a man. I suppose it is 'good-bye.'" He held out a hand to her and she took
+it, holding it limply, looking at him in wonderment, her heart heavy with
+regret. "I wish you luck and happiness," he said. "Corrigan is a man in
+spite of--of many faults. You can redeem him; you--"
+
+"_Is_ a man!" Her hand tightened on his; he could feel her tremble.
+"Why--why--I thought--Didn't they--"
+
+"Didn't they tell you? The fools!" He laughed derisively. "They let him
+go. They knew I wouldn't want it. They did it for me. He went East on the
+noon train--quite alive, I assure you. I am glad of it--for your sake."
+
+"For my sake!" Her voice lifted in mingled joy and derision, and both her
+hands were squeezing his with a pressure that made his blood leap with a
+longing to possess her. "For _my_ sake!" she repeated, and the emphasis
+made him gasp and stiffen. "For _your_ sake--for both of us, Trevison! Oh,
+what fools we were! What fools all people are, not to trust and believe!"
+
+"What do you mean?" He drew her toward him, roughly, and held her hands in
+a grip that made her wince. But she looked straight at him in spite of the
+pain, her eyes brimming with a promise that he could not mistake.
+
+"Can't you _see_?" she said to him, her voice quavering; "_must _ I tell
+you?"
+
+
+
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+THE MAN OF THE FOREST
+THE DESERT OF WHEAT
+THE U. P. TRAIL
+WILDFIRE
+THE BORDER LEGION
+THE RAINBOW TRAIL
+THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
+RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
+THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
+THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
+THE LONE STAR RANGER
+DESERT GOLD
+BETTY ZANE
+
+LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS
+
+The life story of "Buffalo Bill" by his sister Helen Cody Wetmore, with
+Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.
+
+ZANE GREY'S BOOKS FOR BOYS
+
+KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE
+THE YOUNG LION HUNTER
+THE YOUNG FORESTER
+THE YOUNG PITCHER
+THE SHORT STOP
+THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES
+
+Grossett & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
+
+
+
+
+EDGAR RICE BURROUGH'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+TARZAN THE UNTAMED
+
+Tells of Tarzan's return to the life of the ape-man in his search for
+vengeance on those who took from him his wife and home.
+
+JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN
+
+Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan proves his right to
+ape kingship.
+
+A PRINCESS OF MARS
+
+Forty-three million miles from the earth--a succession of the weirdest and
+most astounding adventures in fiction. John Carter, American, finds
+himself on the planet Mars, battling for a beautiful woman, with the Green
+Men of Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet high, mounted on horses like
+dragons.
+
+THE GODS OF MARS
+
+Continuing John Carter's adventures on the Planet Mars, in which he does
+battle against the ferocious "plant men," creatures whose mighty tails
+swished their victims to instant death, and defies Issus, the terrible
+Goddess of Death, whom all Mars worships and reveres.
+
+THE WARLORD OF MARS
+
+Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear, Tars Tarkas,
+Tardos Mors and others. There is a happy ending to the story in the union
+of the Warlord, the title conferred upon John Carter, with Dejah Thoris.
+
+THUVIA, MAID OF MARS
+
+The fourth volume of the series. The story centers around the adventures
+of Carthoris, the son of John Carter and Thuvia, daughter of a Martian
+Emperor.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's 'Firebrand' Trevison, by Charles Alden Seltzer
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