Moran in the mix-up. He still looked upon
his final visit to Rexhill as a weakness, but it had been undertaken
solely on Santry's account. It had failed, and no one now could expect
tolerance of him except Helen. If the posse was still at the ranch, when
he and Santry returned there at the head of their men, they would attack
in force, and shoot to kill if necessary.

He learned from Lem Trowbridge, who presently joined him at the table,
that the posse would probably still be there, for the report in town
was that Moran had taken possession of the property and meant to stay
there.

"He does, eh?" Wade muttered grimly. "Well, he may, but it will be with
his toes up. I'm done, Lem. By Heaven, it's more than flesh and blood
can stand!"

"It sure is! We're with you, Gordon. Your men were over at my place a
few hours ago. We grubbed them and loaned them all the guns we could
spare. I sent over my new Winchester and a belt of shells for you."

"Thanks."

"That's all right. You're more than welcome to all the help I can give
you, not only against Moran and his gang, but against Rexhill. If you
like, we'll run him out of town while you're putting the fear of God
into Moran. Lord! I sure would like to go back to the ranch with you,
but it's your own quarrel and I won't butt in."

Wade briefly explained his attitude toward the Rexhills and added that
their cause would not be helped by violence toward the Senator, who was
a big man at Washington, and might stir the authorities into action on
his behalf if he could prove personal abuse. The noise that would be
made by such a happening might drown out the justice of the cattlemen's
claim.

"Well, that's true, too," Trowbridge admitted. "I can see the point all
right. What we want to do is to get something 'on' the Senator. I mean
something sure--something like this Jensen shooting."

Wade nodded slowly.

"That's the idea, but I'm afraid we can't do it, Lem. I haven't a doubt
but that Moran is mixed up in the killing, but I hardly believe Rexhill
is. Anyhow, they've probably covered their tracks so well that we'll
never be able to connect them with it."

"Oh, I don't know. You can't always tell what time'll bring to light."
Trowbridge lowered his voice. "What's your idea about Santry? Do you
want help there?"

"No." Wade spoke with equal caution. "I believe I can manage all right
alone. The Sheriff will probably be looking for us to rush the jail, but
he won't expect m