The woman flashed a quick, inquiring look at him, saw the passion in his eyes, the gleam of malevolent antagonism, and she set herself against it. For her talk with Trevison last night had convinced her of the futility of hope. She had gone out of his life as a commonplace incident slips into the oblivion of yesteryear. Worse--he had refused to recall it. It hurt her, this knowledge--his rebuff. It had aroused cold, wanton passions in her--she had become a woman who did not care. She met Corrigan's gaze with a look of defiant mockery. "Swell. I enjoyed every minute of it. Won't you sit down?" He held himself back, grinning coldly, for the woman's look had goaded him to fury. "No," he said; "I'll stand. I won't be here a minute. You saw Trevison last night, eh? You warned him that I was going to have Carson arrested." He had hazarded this guess, for it had seemed to him that it must be the solution to the mystery, and when he caught the quick, triumphant light in the woman's eyes at his words he knew he had not erred. "Yes," she said; "I saw him, and I told him--what Braman told me." She saw his eyes glitter and she laughed harshly. "That's what you wanted to know, isn't it, Jeff--what Braman told me? Well, you know it. I knew you couldn't play square with me. You thought you could dupe me--_again_, didn't you? Well, you didn't, for I snared Braman and pumped him dry. He's kept me posted on your movements; and his little board telephone--Ha, ha! that makes you squirm, doesn't it? But it was all wasted effort--Trevison won't have me--he's through. And I'm through. I'm not going to try any more. I'm going back East, after I get rested. You fight it out with Trevison. But I warn you, he'll beat you--and I wish he would! As for that beast, Braman, I wish--Ah, let him go, Jeff," she advised, noting the cold fury in his eyes. "That's all right," he said with a dry laugh. "You and Braman have done well. It hasn't done me any harm, and so we'll forget about it. What do you say to having a drink--and a talk. As in old times, eh?" He seemed suddenly to have conquered his passion, but the queer twitching of his lips warned the woman, and when he essayed to move toward her, smiling pallidly, she darted to the far side of a stand near the center of the room, pulled out a drawer, produced a small revolver and leveled it at him, her eyes wide and glittering with menace. "Stay where you are, Jeff!" she ordered. "There's murder in your heart, and I know it. But I don't intend to be the victim. I'll shoot if you come one step nearer!" He smirked at her, venomously. "All right," he said. "You're wise. But get out of town on the next train." "I'll go when I get ready--you can't scare me. Let me alone or I'll go to Rosalind Benham and let her in on the whole scheme." "Yes you will--not," he laughed. "If I know anything about you, you won't do anything that would give Miss Benham to Trevison."