t she drew it away from him in a fury. And the
eagerness in his eyes betrayed the insincerity of his attempt at
consolation; she saw it--the naked selfishness of his look--and sneered at
him.

"You want the good news, eh? The good for you? That's all you care about.
After you get it, I'll get the husks of your pity. Well, here it is. I've
poisoned them both--against each other. I told him she was against him in
this land business. And it hurt me to see how gamely he took it, Jeff!"
her voice broke, but she choked back the sob and went on, hoarsely: "He
didn't make a whimper. Not even when I told him you were going to marry
her--that you were engaged. But there was a fire in those eyes of his that
I would give my soul to see there for me!"

"Yes--yes," said the man, impatiently.

"Oh, you devil!" she railed at him. "I've made him think it was a frame-up
between you and her--to get information out of him; I told him that she
had strung him along for a month or so--amusing herself. And he believes
it."

"Good!"

"And I've made her believe that he sent for me," she went on, her voice
leaping to cold savagery. "I stayed all night at his place, and I went
back to the Bar B in the morning--this morning--and made Rosalind Benham
think--Ha, ha! She ordered me away from the house--the hussy! She's
through with him--any fool could tell that. But it's different with him,
Jeff. He won't give her up; he isn't that kind. He'll fight for her--and
he'll have her!"

The eager, pleased light died out of Corrigan's face, his lips set in an
ugly pout. But he contrived to smile as he got up.

"You've done well--so far. But don't give him up. Maybe he'll change his
mind. Stay here--I'll stake you to the limit." He laid a roll of bills on
a stand--she did not look at them--and approached her in a second endeavor
to console her. But she waved him away, saying: "Get out of here--I want
to think!" And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door.

"Selfish?" he muttered, going down the street. "Well, what of it? That's a
human weakness, isn't it? Get what you want, and to hell with other
people!"

* * * * *

Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed rest. He had watched
Hester Harvey go with no conscious regret, but with a certain grim pity,
which was as futile as her visit. But, lying on the bed he fought hard
against the bitter scorn that raged in him over the contemplation of
R