contact with other human
beings, brought Banker Maison relief from the terrifying fear that had
gripped him during the night. He became almost courageous after
breakfast, and began to think that perhaps he had yielded too readily
to Sanderson's demands.

As the hours passed and the memory of the night's horror grew more
distant, he began to feel indignant over the treatment accorded him by
Sanderson. Later the indignation grew to a deep and consuming rage,
and he entertained thoughts of his power and influence and of the
comparative unimportance of the grim-faced man who had robbed him.

Robbed him--that was it! Sanderson had robbed him!

The more Maison's thoughts dwelt upon the occurrence the deeper grew
his rage. He even condoned Dale's action in bringing the Nyland girl
to his rooms. Dale was his friend, and he would protect him!

Perhaps Maison did not reflect that his greed was attempting to justify
him; that back of his growing championship of Dale was his eagerness to
get possession of the Nyland property; and that behind his rage over
Sanderson's visit was the bitter thought that Sanderson had compelled
him to pay for the destroyed and stolen steers.

Maison did not consider that phase of the question. Or if he did
consider it he did not permit that consideration to influence his
actions. For within two hours after breakfast he had sent a messenger
for Silverthorn and Dale, and fifteen minutes later he was telling them
the story of the night's happenings.

Silverthorn's face grew purple with rage during the recital. At its
conclusion he got up, dark purpose glinting in his eyes.

"We've got to put Sanderson out of the way, and do it quickly!" he
declared. "And we've got to get that money back. Dale, you're a
deputy sheriff. Damn the law! This isn't a matter for court
action--that damned Graney wouldn't give us a warrant for Sanderson
now, no matter what we told him! We've got to take the law into our
own hands. We'll see if this man can come in here, rob a bank, and get
away without being punished!"

At the end of a fifteen-minute talk, Dale slipped out of the rear door
of the bank and sought the street. In the City Hotel he whispered to
several men, who sauntered out of the building singly, mounted their
horses, and rode toward the neck of the basin. In another saloon Dale
whispered to several other men, who followed the first ones.

Dale's search continued for some little time, and h