ly against Ramero. And in his masterful way he has enough influence
with a certain ring of Mexicans here, some of whom are Narveo's
freighters, to reach pretty far into the Indian country. That's why I
knew those Mexicans were lying to us about the Kiowas at Pawnee Rock. I
could see Ramero's gold pieces in their hands. He joined the Catholic
Church, and plays the Pharisee generally. But the traits of his young
manhood, intensified, are still his. He is handsome, and attractive, and
rich, and influential, but he is also cold-blooded, and greedy for money
until it is his ruling passion, villainously unscrupulous, and
mercilessly unforgiving toward any one who opposes his will; and his
capacity for undying hatred is appalling."

And this was the man who was seeking to control the life of Eloise St.
Vrain. I fairly groaned in my anger.

"The failure to win Mary Marchland's love was the first time in his life
that Fred Ramer's will had ever been thwarted, and he went mad with
jealousy and anger. Gail, they are worse masters than whisky and opium,
once they get a man down."

Jondo paused, and when he spoke again he did it hurriedly, as one who,
from a sense of duty, would glance at the dead face of an enemy and turn
away.

"When Fred lost his suit with Mary, he determined to wreck her life. He
came between her and the man she loved with such adroit cruelty that
they were separated, and although they loved each other always, they
never saw each other again. Through a terrible network of
misunderstandings she married Theron St. Vrain. He, by the way, was the
other college chum I spoke of just now. He and his foster-brother,
Bertrand, were wards of Fred Ramer's father. But their guardian, the
elder Ramer, had embezzled most of their property and there was bitter
enmity between them and him. Theron and Mary were the parents of Eloise
St. Vrain. It is no wonder that she is beautiful. She had Mary Marchland
for a mother. Theron St. Vrain died early, and the management of his
property fell into Fred Ramer's hands. At Mary's death it would descend
to Eloise, with the proviso I just mentioned of an unworthy marriage. In
that case, Ramer, at his own discretion, could give the estate to the
Church. Nobody knows when Mary Marchland died, nor where she is buried,
except Fred and his confessor, Father Josef."

"How far can a man's hate run, Jondo?" I asked.

"Oh, not so far as a man's love. Listen, Gail." Never a man had a truer
eye