him, to
drive him on, to fill his body with inexhaustible strength; and, against
the advice of the station man, he started on in the heat for Moroni. All
he wanted was a show-down with Bible-Back Murray, to meet him face to
face; and no matter if he had the whole county in his pocket he would
tell him what he thought of him. And he would make him take that ore,
according to his agreement, or answer to him personally; and then he
would return to Pinal, where he had left Drusilla crying. But he could
not face her now, after all his boasting and his tales of fabulous
wealth. He could never face her again.

The sun rose up higher, the heat waves began to shimmer and the
landscape to blur before his eyes; and then an automobile came
thundering up behind him and halted on the flat.

"Get in!" called the driver throwing the door open hospitably; and in an
hour's time Denver was set down in Moroni, but with the fever still hot
in his brain. His first frenzy had left him, and the heat madness of the
desert with its insidious promptings to violence; but the sense of
injustice still rankled deep and he headed for Murray's store. It was a
huge, brick building crowded from basement to roof with groceries and
general merchandise. Busy clerks hustled about, waiting on Mexicans and
Indians and slow-moving, valley ranchers; and as Denver walked in there
was a man there to meet him and direct him to any department. It showed
that Bible-Back was efficient, at least.

"I'd like to see Mr. Murray," announced Denver shortly and the
floor-walker glanced at him again before he answered that Mr. Murray was
out. It was the same at the bank, and out at his house; and at last in
disgust Denver went down to the station, where he had been told his ore
was lying. The stifling heat of the valley oppressed him like a blanket,
the sweat poured down his face in tiny streams; and at each evasion his
anger mounted higher until now he was talking to himself. It was evident
that Murray was trying to avoid him--he might even have started back to
the mine--but his ore was there, on a heavily timbered platform, where
it could be transferred from wagon to car without lifting it up and
down. There was other ore there too, each consignment by itself, taken
in by the store-keeper in exchange for supplies and held to make up a
carload. The same perfect system, efficiency in all things--efficiency
and a hundred per cent profit.

Denver leapt up on the platform a