big enough for you and a number of deputies. You'll need deputies, you
know." He grinned as the Judge shrank. Then, leaving the Judge in the room
with his books and papers, Corrigan drew Braman outside.

"I got hell from Benham for destroying Trevison's check--he wired me to
attend to my other deals and let him run the railroad--the damned old
fool! You must have taken the cash to Trevison--I see the gang's working
again."

"The cash went," said the banker, watching Corrigan covertly, "but I
didn't take it. J. C. wired explicit orders for his daughter to act."

Corrigan cursed viciously, his face dark with wrath as he turned to look
at the private car, on the switch. The banker watched him with secret,
vindictive enjoyment. Miss Benham had judged Braman correctly--he was
cold, crafty, selfish, and wholly devoid of sympathy. He was for Braman,
first and last--and in the interim.

"Miss Benham went to the cut--so I hear," he went on, smoothly. "Trevison
wasn't there. Miss Benham went to the Diamond K." His eyes gleamed as
Corrigan's hands clenched. "Trevison rode back to the car with her--which
she had ordered taken to the cut," went on the banker. "And this morning
about ten o'clock Trevison came here with a led horse. He and Miss Benham
rode away together. I heard her tell her aunt they were going to
Blakeley's ranch--it's about eight miles from here."

Corrigan's face went white. "I'll kill him for that!" he said.

"Jealous, eh?" laughed the banker. "So, that's the reason--"

Corrigan turned and struck bitterly. The banker's jaws clacked
sharply--otherwise he fell silently, striking his head against the edge of
the step and rolling, face down, into the dust.

When he recovered and sat up, Corrigan had gone. The banker gazed
foolishly around at a world that was still reeling--felt his jaw
carefully, wonder and astonishment in his eyes.

"What do you know about that?" he asked of the surrounding silence. "I've
kidded him about women before, and he never got sore. He must be in
love!"

* * * * *

Riding through a saccaton basin, the green-brown tips so high that they
caught at their stirrups as they rode slowly along; a white, smiling sky
above them and Blakeley's still three miles away, Miss Benham and Trevison
were chatting gayly at the instant the banker had received Corrigan's
blow.

Miss Benham had spent the night thinking of Trevison, and she had spent
much of