don't mean," Reedy swiped his left hand roughly at the wisp of
hair on his forehead, "that he disregarded your wishes?"

"He certainly did." Indignation was getting the better of her voice.
"The low-lived--the contemptible--common person. And he insulted me
with that--that creature."

"Well, of all the gall!" Reedy was quite as indignant as Mrs. Barnett,
for very different if more substantial reasons. He had seen more and
more that a fight with Rogeen was ahead, a fight to the finish; and the
further he went the larger that fight looked. The easiest way to smash
a man, Reedy had found, was to deprive him of money. A man can't carry
out many schemes unless he can get hold of money. Jenkins had kept a
close eye on Jim Crill, and had grown continually more uneasy lest the
old chap become too favourably impressed with Rogeen. He had early
sensed the old man's weak spot--one of them--Crill hated to be
pestered. That was the vulnerable side at which Evelyn Barnett, the
niece, could jab. And Reedy had planned all her attacks. This last
move of Crill's--hiring Rogeen to lend money for him, had alarmed Reedy
more than anything that had happened. For it would give Rogeen a big
influence on the Mexican side. Most of the ranchers needed to borrow
money, and it would put the man on whose word the loans would be made
in mighty high favour. To offset this, Reedy had engineered an attack
by Mrs. Barnett on the old gentleman's leisure. She had worried him
and nagged him with the argument that he ought not to bother with a lot
of business details, but should turn them over to her. She would see
to the little things for him. He had reluctantly granted some sort of
consent to this, a consent which Evelyn had construed meant blanket
authority.

"He flatly refused," Mrs. Barnett was still thinking blisteringly of
Bob Rogeen, "to obey my wishes in the matter. I told him plainly," she
bit her lips again, "that neither Uncle nor I would consent to money
being furnished women like that."

"I should say not." Reedy agreed with unctuous righteousness in his
plump face. "And to think of that scalawag, making a loan right in
your face, after you had vetoed it."

"He'll never make another." Mrs. Barnett's lips would have almost bit
a thread in two. "Just wait until I get to Uncle Jim!"

"I'll drive you up," said Reedy. He reached to the top of the desk for
his hat.

"Of course," remarked Reedy on the way, "your uncle is