ell.

Psychologically, it was curious--no doubt there were women in the world
who had, or did, or might, adore Sprudell; but for herself she
understood clearly now that the single kindly feeling she had for him
was the gratitude she felt she owed him.

"I congratulate you," she said finally. "It is a remarkable story--most
romantic! Money is power--there never was anything truer--Listen!" She
raised a finger. "Isn't that your name? Yes; the boy is paging you."

Sprudell ostentatiously opened the telegram which was brought to him,
secretly pleased at seeming to be thus pursued by the requirements of
his large business interests; but his frown of importance and air of a
man with weighty matters to decide was wasted upon Helen, who was
watching a lively party of men making its way to a nearby table reserved
for six.

Sprudell read:

The original locator has beat us to the water-right. Applied by
wire while I was snowed up. Advise making best terms possible
with him. Letter follows.
Dill.

He looked as if some one had struck him in the face.

Helen was still watching the advancing party. She murmured, with a smile
of amusement, as Sprudell laid the telegram down:

"Here, coming in the lead, is our unfailing news supply--Winfield
Harrah. You've heard of him no doubt. Behind him, the big one--that huge
chap with the black eyes, is the mysterious Samson from the West who
whipped the 'Spanish Bull-dog.' 'The Man from the Bitter Roots' I think
they call him."

Subconsciously, Sprudell heard what she was saying and his eyes followed
hers. The start he gave caused her to turn her head quickly. His face
was more than colorless, it was chalky even to the lips.

"Burt!" He exclaimed involuntarily, "Bruce Burt!" He could have bitten
his tongue out the instant after.

XVI

"SLIM'S SISTER"

Bruce Burt! the murderer! Of all things in the world that he should be
"The Man from the Bitter Roots"--dining at the Strathmore--the guest of
Winfield Harrah! Weren't people punished for murder in the West?
Sprudell had intimated that he would hang for it. Helen's grey eyes were
big with amazement and indignation while she watched him being seated.

She saw the widening of his eyes when he recognized Sprudell, the quick
hardening of his features and the look that followed, which, if not
exactly triumph, was certainly satisfaction. Involuntarily she gl