estioning as to motives--why had this been
said, what was meant by that word, that gesture, that glance?

Wednesday passed, and Thursday. Magnus kept to himself, seeing no
visitors, avoiding even his family. How to break through the mesh of the
net, how to regain the old position, how to prevent discovery? If there
were only some way, some vast, superhuman effort by which he could rise
in his old strength once more, crushing Lyman with one hand, Genslinger
with the other, and for one more moment, the last, to stand supreme
again, indomitable, the leader; then go to his death, triumphant at the
end, his memory untarnished, his fame undimmed. But the plague-spot
was in himself, knitted forever into the fabric of his being. Though
Genslinger should be silenced, though Lyman should be crushed, though
even the League should overcome the Railroad, though he should be the
acknowledged leader of a resplendent victory, yet the plague-spot
would remain. There was no success for him now. However conspicuous
the outward achievement, he, he himself, Magnus Derrick, had failed,
miserably and irredeemably.

Petty, material complications intruded, sordid considerations. Even if
Genslinger was to be paid, where was the money to come from? His legal
battles with the Railroad, extending now over a period of many years,
had cost him dear; his plan of sowing all of Los Muertos to wheat,
discharging the tenants, had proved expensive, the campaign resulting
in Lyman's election had drawn heavily upon his account. All along he
had been relying upon a "bonanza crop" to reimburse him. It was not
believable that the Railroad would "jump" Los Muertos, but if this
should happen, he would be left without resources. Ten thousand dollars!
Could he raise the amount? Possibly. But to pay it out to a blackmailer!
To be held up thus in road-agent fashion, without a single means of
redress! Would it not cripple him financially? Genslinger could do
his worst. He, Magnus, would brave it out. Was not his character above
suspicion?

Was it? This letter of Gethings's. Already the murmur of uneasiness
made itself heard. Was this not the thin edge of the wedge? How the
publication of Genslinger's story would drive it home! How the spark of
suspicion would flare into the blaze of open accusation! There would be
investigations. Investigation! There was terror in the word. He could
not stand investigation. Magnus groaned aloud, covering his head with
his clasped h