eceipt of Gus Briskow's telegram announcing a slip-up
in the deal--a sale to Calvin Gray; that message, in fact, had affected
the son in a most peculiar manner. For days thereafter he had been
nervous, almost apprehensive, and his nervousness had increased when he
secured the back files of the Dallas papers and read those issues which
he had missed while out of town. Since that time he had made excuses to
avoid trips into the Ranger field and had conducted much of his work
over the telephone. Perhaps for that reason it was that trouble with
drilling crews had arisen, and that one well had been "jimmed"; perhaps
that explained why a deal as good as closed had gotten away, why a
certain lease had cost fully double what it should have cost, and why
the sale of another tract had not gone through.

Be that as it may, it was this generally unsatisfactory state of
affairs that accounted for the junior Nelson's presence in Wichita
Falls at this time. He and Bell had spent a stormy forenoon together;
he was in an irritable mood when, early in the afternoon, a card was
brought into his office.

Nelson could not restrain a start at sight of the name engraved
thereon; his impulse was to leap to his feet. But the partition
separating him from the bank lobby was of glass, and he knew his every
action to be visible. He allowed himself a moment in which to collect
his wits, then he opened slightly the desk drawer in which he kept his
revolver and gave instructions to admit the caller.

Nelson revolved slowly in his chair; he stared curiously at the
newcomer, and his voice was cold, unfriendly, as he said:

"This is quite a surprise, Gray."

"Not wholly unexpected, I hope."

"Entirely! I knew you were in Texas, but I hardly expected you to
present yourself here."

Gray seated himself. For a moment the two men eyed each other, the one
stony, forbidding, suspicious, the other smiling, suave, apparently
frank.

"To what am I indebted for this--_honor?_" Nelson inquired, with a lift
of his lip.

"My dear Colonel, would you expect me to come to Wichita Falls without
paying my respects to my ranking officer, my immediate superior?"

"Bosh! All that is over, forgotten."

"Forgotten?" The caller's brows arched incredulously. "You are a busy
and a successful man; the late war lives in your mind only as a
disagreeable memory to be banished as quickly as possible, but--"

Henry Nelson stirred impatiently. "Come! Come! Don't let's wa