ard," answered Terry promptly.

She got up and took Royce's hands between hers and led him to a chair
before she relinquished them. And before she went back to her own
place she had said swiftly:

"I haven't seen you since you licked Blenham. I--I am glad you got
your chance, Bill."

"Thank you, Miss Terry," said Royce quietly. "I sorta evened up things
with him. Not quite. But sorta. Then you didn't want me?"

"Not this trip, Bill. It's just a play of Mr. Packard's here. He
didn't like to have it known that I had him all alone here; afraid it
might compromise him, you know."

She giggled.

"Or queer him with his girl, mos' likely!" chuckled Royce.

Whereat Steve glowered and Terry looked startled.

"You're both talking nonsense," said Packard. He reached out for his
pipe but dropped it again to the table without lighting it. "If there
is anything I can do for you, Miss Temple----"

He saw how the look in her eyes altered. Nothing less than an errand
of transcendent importance could have brought her here and he knew it.
And now, in quick, eager words she told him:

"Blenham has almost put one across on us. Our outfit is mortgaged to
your old thief of a grandfather for a miserable seven thousand dollars.
Old Packard sent Blenham over to tell dad he is going to shove us out.
Blenham plays foxy and offers dad a thousand dollars for the mortgage.
Oh, I don't understand just how to say it, but Blenham has a few
thousand dollars he has saved and stolen here and there, and he means
to grab the Temple ranch for a total of eight thousand dollars; seven
thousand to old Packard, one thousand to dad----"

"But surely----"

"Surely nothing! Dad's half full of whiskey as usual, and a thousand
dollars looks as big to him as a full moon. Besides, he's sure of
losing to old Hell-Fire sooner or later."

"And you want me----"

"If you've got any money or can raise any," said Terry crisply, "I'm
offering you a good proposition. The same Blenham is after. The ranch
is worth a whole lot better than twenty thousand dollars. My
proposition is-- But can you raise eight thousand?"

Steve regarded her a moment speculatively. Then, quite after the way
of Steve Packard, he slipped his hand into his shirt and brought out a
sheaf of banknotes and tossed them to her across the table.

"I'm not a bloodsucker," he said quietly. "Take what you like; I'll
stake you to the wad."

Terry looked, counted--and gasped.