Gunnison in the early 80's were
fearless men, who, when a difference of opinion arose, faced each other
and fought it out; but there had come to live at La Veta a thin, quiet,
handsome fellow, who moved mysteriously in and out of the camp, slept a
lot by day, and showed a fondness for faro by night. When a name was
needed he signed "Buckingham." His icy hand was soft and white, and his
clothes fitted him faultlessly. He was handsome, and when he paid his
bill at the end of the fourth week he proposed to Nora O'Neal. He was so
fairer, physically, than Cassidy and so darker, morally, that Nora could
not make up her mind at all, at all.

In the shadow time, between sunset and gas-light, on the afternoon of
the last day but one before Christmas, Buck, as he came to be called,
leaned over the office counter and put a folded bit of white paper in
Nora's hand, saying, as he closed her fingers over it: "Put this powder
in Cassidy's cup." He knew Cassidy merely as the messenger whose freight
he coveted, and not as a contestant for Nora's heart and hand,--a hand
he prized, however, as he would a bob-tailed flush, but no more.

As for Cassidy, he would be glad, waking, to find himself alive; and if
this plan miscarried, Buck should be able to side-step the gallows.
Anyway, dope was preferable to death.

Nora opened her hand, and in utter amazement looked at the paper. Some
one interrupted them. Buck turned away, and Nora shoved the powder down
deep into her jacket pocket, feeling vaguely guilty.

No. 7, the Salt Lake Limited, was an hour late that night. The regular
dinner (we called it supper then) was over when Shanley whistled in.

* * * * *

As the headlight of the Rockaway engine gleamed along the hotel windows,
Nora went back to see that everything was ready.

In the narrow passage between the kitchen and the dining-room she met
Buckingham. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Now, my beauty," said Buck, laying a cold hand on her arm, "don't be
excited."

She turned her honest eyes to him and he almost visibly shrank from
them, as she had shuddered at the strange, cold touch of his hand.

"Put that powder in Cassidy's cup," he said, and in the half-light of
the little hallway she saw his cruel smile.

"And kill Cassidy, the best friend I have on earth?"

"It will not kill him, but it may save his life. I shall be in his car
to-night. Sabe? Do as I tell you. He will only fall