ng for an answer he rode onward.

Thinking that, perhaps, in spite of the burning lamp Mary might be
sleeping, Sanderson cautiously dismounted at the corral gates, and,
leaving Owen to put his own horse away, he walked toward the house,
stealthily, for he did not wish to awaken the girl.

Halfway across the ranchhouse yard, Sanderson saw a shadow cross the
light in the window. Again he grinned, thinking Mary had not gone to
bed after all.

But, going forward more unconcernedly, Sanderson's smile faded and was
succeeded by a savage frown. For in the shadow formed by the little
"L" at the junction of the house and porch, he saw a horse saddled and
bridled.

Suddenly alert, and yielding to the savage rage that gripped him,
Sanderson stole softly forward and looked closely at the animal. He
recognized it instantly as Dale's, and in the instant, his face pale,
his eyes blazing with passion, he was on the porch, peering through one
of the darkened windows.

Inside he saw Dale and Mary Bransford. They were in the sitting-room.
Dale was sitting in a big chair, smoking a cigar, one arm carelessly
thrown over the back of the chair, his legs crossed, his attitude that
of the master.

Standing perhaps a dozen feet from him was Mary Bransford.

The girl's eyes were wide with fright and astonishment, disbelief,
incredulity--and several other emotions that Sanderson could not
analyze. He did not try. One look at her sufficed to tell him that
Dale was baiting her, tantalizing her, mocking her, and Sanderson's
hatred for the man grew in intensity until it threatened to overwhelm
him.

There was in his mind an impulse to burst into the house and kill Dale
where he sat. It was the primitive lust to destroy an unprincipled
rival that had seized Sanderson, for he saw in Dale's eyes the bold
passion of the woman hunter.

However, Sanderson conquered the impulse. He fought it with the
marvelous self-control and implacable determination that had made him
feared and respected wherever men knew him, and in the end the faint,
stiff grin on his face indicated that whatever he did would be done
with deliberation.

This was an instance where the eavesdropper had some justification for
his work, and Sanderson listened.

He heard Dale laugh--the sound of it made Sanderson's lips twitch
queerly. He saw Mary cringe from Dale and press her hands over her
breast. Dale's voice carried clearly to Sanderson.

"Ha, ha!" he said. "S