's keen for it--says he admires any guy which can plan a thing that
big. Grinned like a hyena when I told him the big guys back of it
wouldn't let any law interfere. He's got seventy men, he
says--dare-devil gun-fighters from down south a piece which will do
anything he tells 'em an' howl for more."

Warden moistened his lips as he grinned his satisfaction.

"There's only one trail, Singleton--you are sure of that?"

"One trail--the Tom Long trail. The devil himself couldn't find another
through that country."

Warden leaned back in his chair, laughing lowly. Into his manner as he
sat there came a confidence that had not been there before--bold,
arrogant. His laugh had a sinister quality in it; in his eyes was the
light of greed.

And as he watched Singleton something else came into his eyes--something
abysmal, causing them to narrow and glow with a bestial light.

"Singleton," he said, his voice thick and throaty; "when I stepped into
Jim Lefingwell's boots the county board of education appointed me to
succeed Lefingwell as school commissioner for Willets. It strikes me
that something ought to be done about the teacher punishing your boy. I
think I had better have a talk with her."

"Shucks," growled Singleton; "I reckon the kid deserved what he got. He
was tryin' to wallop her when Lawler come in. I ain't admirin' Ruth
Hamlin none, but I reckon she wasn't to blame for that. If you was
figgerin' to see Lawler, now, why that would be more to the point." He
grinned crookedly at Warden, slight mockery in his gaze.

Warden scowled. "That's your job, Singleton. If he tries to 'wallop' me
as he walloped you, I'll have something to say to him."

"It's safer to telegraph to the cuss," grinned Singleton, sourly.

Warden apparently did not hear Singleton's last words, for he was gazing
meditatively past him. He took leave of Singleton and walked to the
front of the saloon, where he stood for many minutes leaning on the bar,
thoughtfully looking out into the street.

The shadows of the buildings across the street from him had grown long,
and the light from the sun was mellowing when Warden walked to the
front door and stood for an instant on the threshold.

Down the street in front of his office stood Red King. Other horses were
hitched here and there, but there was no human being in sight. The quiet
peace of the waning afternoon had settled over town; it was the period
when human activity slackens.

Warden stepped