ce I have seen you. You have come to
help us against our enemies?"

Cheyne saw the girl's intention, and was glad to fall in with it, but he
betrayed a little embarrassment. "Not exactly, though I should be content
if my duty amounts to the same thing," he said. "We have been sent in to
help to restore order, and it is my business just now to inquire into the
doings of a certain Larry Grant. I wonder if you could tell me anything
about him?"

He noticed the sudden intentness of Hetty's face, though it was gone in an
instant.

"What have you found out?" she asked.

"Very little that one could rely upon. Everybody I ask tells me something
different, he seems a compound of the qualities of Coleman the Vigilante,
our first President, and the notorious James boys. As they were gentlemen
of quite different character, it seems to me that some of my informants
are either prejudiced or mistaken."

"Yes," said Hetty. "He is like none of them. Larry is just a plain
American who is fearlessly trying to do what he feels is right, though it
is costing him a good deal. You see, I met him quite often before the
trouble began."

Cheyne glanced at her sharply, but Hetty met his gaze. "I don't know," he
answered, "that one could say much more of any man."

Just then Flora Schuyler and Miss Allonby came in. "Hetty," said the
latter, "everybody is waiting for you to sing."

In the meanwhile, Allonby and his nephew sat with Torrance and Clavering,
and one or two of the older men, in his office room. Clavering had just
finished speaking when Allonby answered Torrance's questioning glance.

"I have no use for beating round the bush," he said. "Dollars are getting
scarce with me, and, like some of my neighbours, I had to sell out a draft
of stock. The fact that I'm throwing them on the market now is
significant."

One of the men nodded. "Allonby has put it straight," he said. "I was over
fixing things with the station agent, and he is going to send the first
drafts through to Omaha in one lot if two of his biggest locomotives can
haul the cars. Still, if Clavering has got hold of the right story, how
the devil did the homestead-boys hear of it?"

Clavering glanced at Torrance with a little sardonic smile on his lips. "I
don't quite know, but a good many of our secrets have been leaking out."

"You're quite sure you are right, Clavering?" somebody asked.

"Yes. The information is worth the fifty dollars I paid for it. The
homeste