Boyle's face was flushed, and his naturally pop-eyed expression was greatly aggravated by his anger. It seemed that his eyes were straining to leap out, and had forced themselves forward until the whites showed beyond the lids. "Yes, that Slavens is one of these men that'd eat hot rocks for the woman he loves," he sneered. "Well, it's up to him to show how far he'll go for you." "It's unworthy of even you, Jerry, to talk like that," she reproved. "As far as I know, I am nothing more to Dr. Slavens than any other friend. If you want his claim, why don't you go down there and buy it, as you were ready to buy it from Peterson if you could have filed him on it?" "Because I can get it cheaper," said Boyle. "I'll not give him ten cents for it. It's your job to go and tell him that I want him to go over to Meander and pay up on that land, and I'll furnish the money for it, but before he pays he must sign a relinquishment to me." "I'll not do it!" she declared. "If you won't lead, I'll have to try spurs, and I don't like to do that, Agnes, for the sake of old days." "Forget the old days." "I'll go you," said he. "There's nothing that you can tell these people about me that will lower me much in their estimation. None of them, except Smith, knows me very well, anyhow. I don't care so much for their opinion, for I'm not here to please them." Boyle placed his hand on her shoulder and looked gravely into her face. "But if I was to show proof to the land commissioner that you'd got possession of a homestead here through fraud and perjury, then where would you land?" he asked. "It isn't true!" she cried, fear rising within her and driving away the color of courage which to that moment had flown in her face. "It is true, Agnes," he protested. "You registered under the name of Agnes Horton and made affidavit that it was your lawful name; you entered this land under the same name, and took title to it in the preliminaries, and that's fraud and perjury, if I know anything about the definition of either term." "Do you mean to tell me, Jerry," she faltered, "that I'd have to go to prison if Dr. Slavens wouldn't consent to save me by giving up his claim to you?" "Well, the disgrace of it would amount to about the same, even if a jury refused to send you up," said he brutally, grinning a little over the sight of her consternation. "You'd be indicted, you see, by the Federal grand jury, and arrested by the United States marshal, and locked up. Then you'd be tried, and your picture would be put in the papers, and the devil would be to pay all around. You'd lose your homestead anyhow, and your right to ever take another. Then where would the City of Refuge be?" "But you wouldn't do it," she appealed, placing her hand on his arm, looking into his face beseechingly, the sudden weight of her trouble making her look old. "You wouldn't do it, Jerry, would you?" "Wouldn't I?" he mocked disdainfully. "Well, you watch me!"