t won't do any
harm to learn what your father thinks about it. My dear--" she stepped to
the girl and placed an arm around her waist "--last night as I watched
Trevison, he reminded me of a--a very dear friend that I once knew. I saw
the wreck of my own romance, my dear. He was just such a man as
Trevison--reckless, impulsive, and impetuous--dare-devil who would not
tolerate injustice or oppression. They wouldn't let me have him, my dear,
and I never would have another man. He went away, joined the army, and was
killed at the battle of Kenesaw Mountain. I have kept his memory fresh in
my heart, and last night when I looked at Trevison it seemed to me that he
must be the reincarnation of the only man I ever loved. There must be
something terribly wrong to make him act the way he does, my dear. And he
loves you."

The girl bit her lips to repress the swelling emotions which clamored in
wild response to this sympathetic understanding. She looked at Agatha, to
see tears in her eyes, and she wheeled impulsively and threw her arms
around the other's neck.

"Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Aunty. But--" she gulped "--he doesn't
love me."

"I saw it in his eyes, my dear." Agatha's smile was tender and
reminiscent. "Don't you worry. He will find a way to let you know--as he
will find a way to beat Corrigan--if Corrigan is trying to defraud him!
He's that kind, my dear!"

In spite of her aunt's assurances the girl's heart was heavy as she began
her ride to Manti. Trevison might love her,--she had read that it was
possible for a man to love two women--but she could never return his love,
knowing of his affair with Hester. He should have justice, however, if
they were trying to defraud him of his rights!

Long before she reached Manti she saw the train from Dry Bottom, due at
Manti at six o'clock, gliding over the plains toward the town, and when
she arrived at the station its passengers had been swallowed by Manti's
buildings and the station agent and an assistant were dragging and bumping
trunks and boxes over the station platform.

The agent bowed deferentially to her and followed her into the telegraph
room, clicking her message over the wires as soon as she had written it.
When he had finished he wheeled his chair and grinned at her.

"See the courthouse and the bank?"

She had--all that was left of them--black, charred ruins with two iron
safes, red from their baptism of fire, standing among them. Also two other
bu