ed at Singleton, a signal correctly interpreted by
the other, whose eyes quickened. And then Warden returned to the front
window where, later, he was joined by Singleton; for a long time both of
them watched the southern sky, into which had crept a dull red glow,
faint, and far away.

"Antrim didn't lose any time!" commented Warden, exultantly. "And Della
can tell the truth to the sheriff whenever she gets ready!"

The other watcher was Della Wharton. She had seen the sheriff leave
town, to ride southward, and she had divined what his errand meant. And
she had sat in a chair near a window for many hours, peering into the
darkness for Moreton's return with his prisoner. And when she saw them
coming she smiled as she had smiled when she had entered the room after
taking leave of Warden.

Della knew Warden better than Warden knew himself; and on the night when
he had asked her to sign the statement charging Lawler with murder, she
was convinced that Warden intended to use the statement. He had told her
that he merely intended to hold it as a threat over Lawler's head, to
dissuade him from succeeding politically; and she had permitted Warden
to think that she believed him. And when, upon her arrival from the
capital, he had told her that it was part of his strategy to secretly
present the statement to the sheriff--and that she must appear
personally before that official--she had consented, knowing that Warden
was insincere.

Della had really felt vindictive toward Lawler on that last day in the
line cabin. She had yielded to the resentment that had assailed her over
the conviction that she had made no impression upon the man. And she had
lied when she had told Warden that she had been merely infatuated with
Lawler. She discovered that after she reached the hotel following her
sojourn in the cabin with him. She wanted him more than she had ever
wanted anything in the world. And she was determined to have him. She
meant to win him even if she had to bring confusion upon Warden. And so
she smiled as she watched Moreton open the jail doors to Lawler--a smile
in which there was much triumph.

CHAPTER XXXI

"JAIL'S EMPTY, KANE!"

The jail was small--merely one room with barred windows and an iron
door, opening upon the street. The iron door was supplemented with a
wooden one, which halted the glances of the curious. The windows were
high, thus insuring further privacy; the hard adobe floor was clean, and
the bunk