"I really don't think you would appreciate my motives, especially as I'm not quite sure I understand them myself. Anyway, I did it, and that, of course, implies that there can be no further understanding between you and me. I don't mean to question the morality of what we purposed doing, but, to be quite frank, I've had enough of it." Saxton, who appeared to restrain himself with an effort, sat down and lighted a cigar. "No doubt I could worry along 'most as well without you, but there's a question to be answered," he said, drily. "Do you mean to give me away?" "It's not one I appreciate, and it seems to me a trifle unnecessary. You can reassure yourself on that point." Saxton took a drink of whisky. "Well," he said, meditatively, "I guess I can trust you, and I'm not going to worry about letting you off the deal. You have too many fancies to be of much use to anybody. There's just another thing, and it has to be said. It's business I have on hand, and life's too short for any man to waste time he could pile up dollars in, trying to get even with a partner who has gone back on him. In fact, I've a kind of liking for you--but you'll most certainly get hurt if you put yourself in my way. It's a friendly warning." Brooke laughed. "I will endeavor to keep out of it, so far as I can." Saxton nodded, and then looked at him reflectively. "Miss Heathcote's kind of pretty," he said. "I suggested once already that we should get on better if you left Miss Heathcote out." "You did. Still, when I've anything to say, it is scarcely a hint of that kind that's going to stop me. I guess you know she has quite a pile of dollars?" Brooke's face flushed. "I don't, and it does not concern me in the least." "She has, anyway. Devine's wife brought him a pile, and I heard one sister had the same as the other. Now, you ought to feel obliged to me." Brooke straightened himself a trifle in his chair. "I don't wish to be unpleasant, but you have gone quite as far as is advisable. Can't you see the thing you are suggesting is quite out of the question?" Saxton surveyed him critically. "Well," he said, reflectively, "I have seen better-looking men--quite a few of them, and you're blame hard to get on with, but there are women who don't expect too much." Brooke's face was growing flushed, but he realized that nothing short of physical violence was likely to restrain his visitor, and he laughed. "You will, of course, believe what pleases you," he said. "Are you going to stay here to-night?" "No," said Saxton. "When I'm through with this whisky, I'm going right back to Tomlinson's ranch. I wouldn't like Devine to run up against me, and he nearly did it on the trail a little while ago." Brooke looked up sharply. "He recognized you?"