else that he was not aware of it. It
seemed to him that the eyes were merely engaging, and frankly curious.
He did not see the admiration in them, the elation, and the demure
coquetry.

"I reckon you'll have to be the judge of that, ma'am. You certainly have
the advantage of me."

"You are--" Her pause was eloquent.

"I am Kane Lawler, ma'am."

He looked into her eyes for the disappointment he expected to find
there, and saw only eager interrogation.

"Oh, then I don't know you. I beg your pardon."

"I reckon there's no harm done," smiled Lawler.

He bowed again, noting that she looked intently at him, her eyes still
wide and filled with something he could not fathom. And when halfway up
the stairs he looked back, curious, subtly attracted to the woman, he
saw her standing in the doorway, ready to go out, watching him over her
shoulder. He laughed and opened the door of Gary Warden's office.

Warden was sitting at his desk. He turned at the sound of the door
opening, and faced Lawler inquiringly.

Perhaps in Lawler's eyes there still remained a trace of the cold
passion that had seized him in the schoolhouse; it may have been that
what Lawler had heard of Gary Warden was reflected in his gaze--a doubt
of Warden's honorableness. Or perhaps in Lawler's face he observed signs
which told him that before him stood a man of uncommon character.

At any rate, Warden was conscious of a subtle pulse of antagonism; a
quick dislike--and jealousy.

Warden could not have told what had aroused the latter emotion, though
he was subconsciously aware that it had come when he had noted the
rugged, manly strength of Lawler's face; that the man was attractive,
and that he admired him despite his dislike.

That knowledge aroused a dull rage in him. His cheeks flushed, his eyes
glowed with it.

But Warden's smile contradicted his thoughts. He managed that so
cleverly that many men, watching him, might have been deceived.

In Lawler's keen eyes, however, glowed understanding--a knowledge of
Warden's character that vindicated the things he had heard about the
man--the tentative suggestions that Warden was not a worthy successor to
Lefingwell.

That knowledge, though, would not have bothered him, had he not seen in
Warden's eyes something that seemed to offer him a personal affront. As
quickly as Warden had veiled his eyes from Lawler, the latter had seen
the dislike in them, the antagonism, and the rage that had stained his