"Damn you!" The cattleman was beyond himself with fatigue, rage, and a rankling sense of injustice. "They told me that was your game. I believed it of Moran, but I thought you were square. So you're that sort, too, eh? Well, may you rot in hell before you get my land, you robber! Now listen to me." He waved his hand in the direction of the street. "Out there's a hundred men--real men--who're waiting the word to run you out of this country, you and Moran, too, and by God we'll do it--we'll do it--and we'll begin right away!" Again his heavy fist crashed down on the table "Never mind Bill Santry"--the instinct of discretion was gaining in Wade.--"He can stay where he is for the present. First, we'll attend to you pirates--then we'll see." He stopped suddenly at sight of Helen, who attracted by the noise, had entered the room, and stood before him in a filmy negligee. "What is the matter, Gordon?" she demanded anxiously. "I beg your pardon." Wade spoke awkwardly, unashamed of himself, except for her. "I'm worn out and I--I lost my temper." "Will you--er--leave this room!" The Senator was beginning to pull himself together. It was the first time he had ever been ragged in such a way, and his composure had suffered; he spoke now with more than his usual pomposity. "I will," Wade answered curtly, as he turned on his heel and departed. The Senator, puffing slightly, fiddled with his glasses. "Your young friend has seen fit to accuse me of--of--" For the life of him, he could not at once say of just what he had been accused, unless he allowed self-accusation to prompt his words. "Some sheepherders have been murdered, I believe," he went on, "and Wade seems to think that Moran and I are implicated." "You!" his daughter exclaimed; evidently her amazement did not extend to Moran. "Preposterous nonsense!" "Yes, of course." Helen walked to the window and stood looking down into the street. "I'm afraid Gordon hasn't improved since we saw him last," she added, finally. "He seems quite a different person from the man I used to know. What are you going to do about it?" "Crush him!" The Senator's lips set in a thin, white line, as his hand descended on the table on the spot where Wade's fist had fallen. "This, apparently, is his gratitude to me for my interest in him. Now I intend to show him the other side of me." "Certainly, no one could blame you for punishing him. Oh, everything between him and me is quite over," said the girl, with a peculiar smile. "He's a perfect bear." "I'm glad you feel that way about it, Helen." Her father's set lips relaxed into a responsive smile. "You couldn't be my daughter and not have some sense." "Have I any?" Helen naively asked. She was gazing out of the window again, and to her mind's eye the dusty, squalid street became a broad highway, with jewelers' shops on either side, and _modistes_, and other such charming things, just as they are found in New York, or--Paris! CHAPTER VIII HIGHER THAN STATUTE LAW