that he once had
represented. And in those weeks Fairchild was constantly beside him.

Not that there were no other things which were represented in Robert's
desires,--far from it. Stronger than ever was Anita Richmond in
Fairchild's thoughts now, and it was with avidity that he learned every
scrap of news regarding her, as brought to him by Mother Howard.
Hungrily he listened for the details of how she had weathered the shock
of her father's death; anxiously he inquired for her return in the days
following the information--via Mother Howard--that she had gone on a
short trip to Denver to look after matters pertaining to her father's
estate. Dully he heard that she had come back, and that Maurice
Rodaine had told friends that the passing of the Judge had caused only
a slight postponement in their marital plans. And perhaps it was this
which held Fairchild in check, which caused him to wonder at the
vagaries of the girl--a girl who had thwarted the murderous plans of a
future father-in-law--and to cause him to fight down a desire to see
her, an attempt to talk to her and to learn directly from her lips her
position toward him,--and toward the Rodaines.

Finally, back to his normal strength once more, Harry rose from the
armchair by the window of the boarding house and turned to Fairchild.

"We 're going to work to-night," he announced calmly.

"When?" Fairchild did not believe he understood. Harry grinned.
"To-night. I 've taken a notion. Rodaine 'll expect us to work in the
daytime. We 'll fool 'im. We 'll leave the guards on in the daytime
and work at night. And what's more, we 'll keep a guard on at the
mouth of the shaft while we 're inside, not to let nobody down. See?"

Fairchild agreed. He knew Squint Rodaine was not through. And he knew
also that the fight against the man with the blue-white scar had only
begun. The cross-cut had brought wealth and the promise of riches to
Fairchild and Harry for the rest of their lives. But it had not freed
them from the danger of one man,--a man who was willing to kill,
willing to maim, willing to do anything in the world, it seemed, to
achieve his purpose. Harry's suggestion was a good one.

Together, when night came, they bundled their greatcoats about them and
pulled their caps low over their ears. Winter had come in earnest,
winter with a blizzard raging through the town on the breast of a
fifty-mile gale. Out into it the two men went, to fight their