you see
how it plays right into our hands? It's the greatest thing that could
have happened for us. It might have been made to order."

"Are you sure it wasn't? Are you sure you didn't have the man shot,
Race?" Senator Rexhill's tone was very dry and he watched his companion
keenly as he asked the question.

Moran assumed an attitude of indignation.

"Why, Senator...!"

"Tush! I want to know where we stand. By God, Race, you mustn't go too
far! We're traveling mighty close to the wind as it is."

"But these brawls are likely to happen at any time. This one in
particular has been brewing for weeks. Why connect me with it,
unnecessarily?"

"All right. I see your point, of course. The assassin is unknown;
suspicion naturally falls upon Wade, who is at the head of the cattle
faction and who, as you say, threatened Jensen only this morning. If we
can jail him for awhile his party is likely to fall down."

"Exactly!" Moran cried eagerly. "Fortune has placed him right in our
hands."

"Well, I'm not going to have him arrested," Rexhill announced doggedly,
"at least, not on any trumped up charge. He's broken my bread, Helen
likes him. We call him a friend, in fact. I always play square with my
friends--as far as possible. Strategy is strategy, nobody can quarrel
with that; but this thing you propose is something more."

Moran, while listening, had restrained his impatience with difficulty.
He not only had reason on his side, but personal hate as well. His sense
of triumph in bringing the news to Rexhill had not been for their mutual
cause alone; it had seemed to Moran to point toward the end of his
rivalry with Wade for the love of Helen. To have the fruits of victory
snatched from him, because of a sentiment of friendship, was almost more
than the agent could stand for.

"Good God, Senator," he burst out, "don't throw this chance away! Think
what it means to us! We are running close to the wind, and until this
moment, it's been a toss up whether we'd get out of here with our lives;
whether I would, at any rate. I've run a mighty big bluff on these
cattle people, but I did it because it was the only way. I've held my
own so far, but when they find out that it's not farm land we're after,
but ore--why, Senator, there'll be no holding them at all! With Wade at
their head and forty miles between us and the cars, where would we get
off? We'd be lucky if we didn't swing from the limb of a tree. Do you
suppose Wade would