making, Will?" Jim inquired presently.

"Eighty dollars a month--why?"

"Ten more than me." Jim laughed harshly. "You're the better match.
You're younger, too."

"She's got a wad of her own. A thousand dollars," added Will.

His remark was unpleasing, and Jim's eyes grew colder.

"That don't cut any figure. That's hers," he said sharply.

"But--it's useful----"

"To her--maybe."

The flow of their talk dried up again. They could make no headway in
clearing up their dilemma. To Jim each passing moment was making
things harder; with each passing moment their friendship was straining
under the pressure. Suddenly a thought flashed through his brain. It
was a light of hope, where, before, all had been darkness.

"I haven't asked her yet," he said. "And you--you haven't?"

"No."

"Say, we're sailing an uncharted sea, and--there's a fog."

It was a reluctant nod Jim received in reply.

"We'll have to ask her," he went on. "She can't marry us both. Maybe
she'll marry neither."

"That's so." Jim failed to observe Will's smile of confidence. "Yes,
we'll both ask her. I've got to go through Barnriff on my way to the
hills. I'll call and see her. You can ride in this evening."

Jim shook his head.

"Guess that's an elegant plan--for you."

Quick as a flash Will turned on him. His volcanic anger rose swiftly.

"What d'you mean?"

"Just what I say." Jim's response seemed to have less friendliness in
it. Then he knocked his pipe out, and rose from his seat. "No, boy,"
he said. "We'll just play the game right here. We'll take a chance for
who goes to her first. If she wants neither of us--well, we'll have
played the game by each other, anyway. And if she chooses either of
us then the other must take his medicine like a man. Let's--be
sportsmen."

"What's your game?" There was no yielding in Will's sharp question.

"Just this."

Jim leaned forward, holding his empty pipe to point his words. There
was a glow of excited interest in his eyes as he propounded his idea.
With Will it was different. He sat frigidly listening. If through any
generosity he lost Eve, he would never forgive himself--he would never
forgive Jim. He must have her for his own. His love for her was a far
greater thing, he told himself, than the colder Jim's could ever be.
He could not understand that Jim, in offering his plan, merely wanted
to be fair, merely wanted to arrange things so that Eve should not
come between them, that neither sh