minutes later in the privacy
of her room, as she balanced her cup and watched Rosalind as the girl ate,
hungrily. "These sagebrush rough-necks out here will make Corrigan hump
himself to keep out of their way. But he deserves it, the crook!"

The girl looked curiously at the other, trying hard to reconcile the
vindictiveness of these words and the woman's previous action in giving
damaging testimony against Corrigan, with the significant fact that
Corrigan had been in her room the night before, presumably as a guest.
Hester caught the look and laughed. "Yes, dearie, he deserves it. How much
do you know of what has been going on here?"

"Very little, I am afraid."

"Less than that, I suspect. I happen to know considerable, and I am going
to tell you about it. My trip out here has been a sort of a wild-goose
chase. I thought I wanted Trevison, but I've discovered I'm not badly hurt
by his refusal to resume our old relations."

The girl gasped and almost dropped her cup, setting it down slowly
afterward and staring at her hostess with doubting, fearing, incredulous
eyes.

"Yes, dearie," laughed the other, with a trace of embarrassment; "you can
trust your ears on that statement. To make certain, I'll repeat it: I am
not very badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations. Do you
know what that means? It means that he turned me down cold, dearie."

"Do you mean--" began the girl, gripping the table edge.

"I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over to Trevison's ranch he
told me plainly that he didn't like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. He
wouldn't kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way. He told me he'd
got over it, the same as he'd got over his measles days--he'd outgrown it
and was going to throw himself at the feet of another goddess. Oh, yes, he
meant you!" she laughed, her voice a little too high, perhaps, with an odd
note of bitterness in it. "Then, determined to blot my rival out, I lied
about you. I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you were in the
game to rob him of his land. Oh, I blackened you, dearie! It hurt him,
too. For when a man like Trevison loves a woman--"

"How could you!" said the girl, shuddering.

"Please don't get dramatic," jeered the other. "The rules that govern the
love game are very elastic--for some women. I played it strong, but there
was no chance for me from the beginning. Trevison thinks you are
Corrigan's trump card in this game. It _is_ a game