d as they emerged from
the last store.

"Yes. And leases are going to be more valuable presently."

"You don't mean that you are going to extort money from them--after they
have gone to the expense of erecting buildings?"

His smile was pleasant. "They will be treated with the utmost
consideration, Miss Benham."

He ushered her into the bank. Like the other buildings, the bank was of
frame construction. Its only resemblance to a bank was in the huge safe
that stood in the rear of the room, and a heavy wire netting behind which
ran a counter. Some chairs and a desk were behind the counter, and at the
desk sat a man of probably forty, who got up at the entrance of his
visitors and approached them, grinning and holding out a hand to
Corrigan.

"So you're here at last, Jeff," he said. "I saw the car on the switch this
morning. The show will open pretty soon now, eh?" He looked inquiringly at
Rosalind, and Corrigan presented her. She heard the man's name, "Mr.
Crofton Braman," softly spoken by her escort, and she acknowledged the
introduction formally and walked to the door, where she stood looking out
into the street.

Braman repelled her--she did not know why. A certain crafty gleam of his
eyes, perhaps, strangely blended with a bold intentness as he had looked
at her; a too effusive manner; a smoothly ingratiating smile--these
evidences of character somehow made her link him with schemes and plots.

She did not reflect long over Braman. Across the street she saw the rider
of the black horse standing beside the animal at a hitching rail in front
of the store that Corrigan had passed without entering. Viewed from this
distance, the rider's face was more distinct, and she saw that he was
good-looking--quite as good-looking as Corrigan, though of a different
type. Standing, he did not seem to be so tall as Corrigan, nor was he
quite so bulky. But he was lithe and powerful, and in his movements, as he
unhitched the black horse, threw the reins over its head and patted its
neck, was an ease and grace that made Rosalind's eyes sparkle with
admiration.

The rider seemed to be in no hurry to mount his horse. The girl was
certain that twice as he patted the animal's neck he stole glances at her,
and a stain appeared in her cheeks, for she remembered the car window.

And then she heard a voice greet the rider. A man came out of the door of
one of the saloons, glanced at the rider and raised his voice, joyously:

"Well, i