county glanced toward Anita Richmond and was
silent. The girl leaped to her feet.

"Don't be afraid to talk on my account," she begged. "Where's Harry?
Is he all right? Did he come back with you?"

"Yes--he's back."

"And you found Maurice?"

Bardwell was silent again, biting at the end of his mustache. Then he
squared himself.

"No matter how much a person dislikes another one--it's, it's--always a
shock," came at last. Anita came closer.

"You mean that he 's dead?"

The sheriff nodded, and Fairchild came suddenly to his feet. Anita's
face had grown suddenly old,--the oldness that precedes the youth of
great relief.

"I 'm sorry--for any one who must die," came finally. "But
perhaps--perhaps it was better. Where was he?"

"About a mile out. He must have rushed his horse too hard. The sweat
was frozen all over it--nobody can push a beast like that through these
drifts and keep it alive."

"He did n't know much about riding."

"I should say not. Did n't know much of anything when we got to him.
He was just about gone--tried to stagger to his feet when we came up,
but could n't make it. Kind of acted like he 'd lost his senses
through fear or exposure or something. Asked me who I was, and I said
Bardwell. Seemed to be tickled to hear my name--but he called it
Barnham. Then he got up on his hands and knees and clutched at me and
asked me if I 'd drawn out all the money and had it safe. Just to
humor him, I said I had. He tried to say something after that, but it
was n't much use. The first thing we knew he 'd passed out. That's
where Harry is now--took him over to the mortuary. There isn't anybody
named Barnham, is there?"

"Barnham?" The name had awakened recollections for Fairchild; "why
he's the fellow that--"

But Anita cut in.

"He 's a lawyer in Denver. They 've been sending all the income from
stock sales to him for deposit. If Maurice asked if he 'd gotten the
money out, it must mean that they meant to run with all the proceeds.
We 'll have to telephone Denver."

"Providing the line's working." Bardwell stared at the other sheriff.
"Is it?"

"Yes--to Denver."

"Then let's get headquarters in a hurry. You know Captain Lee, don't
you? You do the talking. Tell him to get hold of this fellow Barnham
and pinch him, and then send him up to Ohadi in care of Pete Carr or
some other good officer. We 've got a lot of things to say to him."

The message went through. The