breach in his cartridge belt.

Rosalind had seen Clay once only, and that at a distance, and she stole
interested glances at him. There was a certain attraction in Clay's lean
face, with its cold, alert furtiveness, but it was an attraction that bred
chill instead of warmth, for his face revealed a wild, reckless,
intolerant spirit, remorseless, contemptuous of law and order. Several
times she caught him watching her, and his narrowed, probing glances
disconcerted her. She cut her visit short because of his presence, and
when she rose to go he turned in his chair.

"You like this country, ma'am?"

"Well--yes. But it is much different, after the East."

"Some smoother there, eh? Folks are slicker?"

She eyed him appraisingly, for there was an undercurrent of significance
in his voice. She smiled. "Well--I suppose so. You see, competition is
keener in the East, and it rather sharpens one's wits, I presume."

"H'm. I reckon you're right. This railroad has brought some _mighty_ slick
ones here. Mighty slick an' gally." He looked at her truculently.
"Corrigan's one of the slick ones. Friend of yours, eh?"

"Clay!" remonstrated his wife, sharply.

He turned on her roughly. "You keep out of this! I ain't meanin' nothin'
wrong. But I reckon when anyone's got a sneakin' coyote for a friend an'
don't know it, it's doin' 'em a good turn to spit things right out, frank
an' fair.

"This Corrigan ain't on the level, ma'am. Do you know what he's doin'?
He's skinnin' the folks in this country out of about a hundred thousand
acres of land. He's clouded every damn title. He's got a fake bill of sale
to show that he bought the land years ago--which he didn't--an' he's got a
little beast of a judge here to back him up in his play. They've done away
with the original record of the land, an' rigged up another, which makes
Corrigan's title clear. It's the rankest robbery that any man ever tried
to pull off, an' if he's a friend of yourn you ought to cut him off your
visitin' list!"

"How do you know that? Who told you?" asked the girl, her face whitening,
for the man's vehemence and evident earnestness were convincing.

"'Brand' Trevison told me. It hits him mighty damned hard. He had a deed
to his land. Corrigan broke open his office an' stole it. Trevison's
certain sure his deed was on the record, for he went to Dry Bottom with
Buck Peters--the man he bought the land from--an' seen it wrote down on
the record!" He laughed harshl