remember then that he'd broken your bread? I'll bet
dollars to doughnuts he wouldn't.

"But"--his voice sank to a significant whisper--"if we land him in
jail...."

"His friends here would get him out," interposed the Senator, nervously
wiping his glasses.

"Then Uncle Sam would put him in again, with a troop of cavalry to keep
order here, and _that_ would be another advantage gained for our side.
No, sir, once we get him in jail, we've got the law with us and against
him, don't forget that. Then the cattle party would lay mighty low. Wade
has been their leader right along. I tell you, it's the only way, and
you know what it means to us--to you."

"You don't have to tell me that," rasped Rexhill. "If we fail to put
this through, I'm a ruined man."

Moran's eyes gleamed.

"Well, then, it's the only way, unless--unless...."

"Unless what?"

"Unless your daughter marries him, and it all comes into the family."
Upon that point, Moran wished to know just where he stood.

"I've never made a dollar through my daughter yet, and I never will,"
said the Senator grimly. "I'm not selling my own flesh and blood. I'll
rot in the poor-house first."

Moran gently breathed his relief. He would have fought to the fullest
extent of his power to have aborted such a marriage, but if the Senator
had favored it, he knew that it would have been difficult to prevent.

"Wade has a foreman he's mighty fond of, an old man named Santry," the
agent remarked, trying another tack.

"That's a horse of another color." Rexhill appeared aroused, at last. "I
remember the old fellow. He must be nearly ready for the bone yard by
this time anyhow. Saddle it on him, if you can. Wade's devoted to him.
He'd do as much for Santry as for himself, maybe more."

"I've heard about that kind of devotion," the agent sneered, "but I've
yet to see a sample of it."

"Well, you may before long. Your first proposition's no good anyway. It
would simply further antagonize Wade's friends. It's quite possible,
though, that Santry might have been mixed up in such a brawl. Get him
arrested, and then we'll let Wade know, gradually, that our influence is
at his command, for a price. I've no objection to that--none at all. By
Heaven, we've got to do something."

"We'll do it all right. I'll have a warrant sworn out."

"Meanwhile, Race, go easy with those sheep. Wade was telling me about
them, and as a matter of strategy, I had to pretend that I would help
him.