Nance’s eyes were studying his face all the while he was speaking. They were black and narrow, without a visible trace of their serene blue. Now the lower lid came up across the excited iris like the blade of a guillotine. “Let me understand you clearly,” she said, “you are asking me to forge my Mammy’s name to a deed to give away her home land—the land her husband patented and left her as her all? Is this what you are asking me?” “Exactly,” said Arnold, “but don’t forget the condition—at a price, I said, you know—at—a price.” Nance swept off her hat and struck it down against her knee. A laugh broke stiffly on her tallow-white face. “If I could swear,” she said, “I’d tell you where to go, and what I thought you were. You may consider yourself told as it is.” Arnold became coldly grave. “You refuse?” “What do you think I do? Put your wits in order!” The man turned and struck a bell which stood on a rosewood pedestal. Minnie Pine responded with suspicious promptness. “Send me Provine and Big Basford,” said Arnold briefly, and the girl departed. The man did not speak again, nor did Nance. Kate Cathrew sat still in her luxurious chair, her baleful black eyes traveling over the girl from head to foot with bitter interest. There came a shuffle and rattle of spur and the two Sky Line riders stood in the doorway of the room beyond, having come through the kitchen. “Miss Allison,” said Arnold, “I own the men of Sky Line, how or why is unimportant. What I tell them to do, they do. Am I not right, men?” Provine nodded easily. Big Basford spoke sullenly. “Yes, sir,” he said. “All right. Now, my girl, consider. There is on Sky Line a secret place——” “I’ve always thought so,” said Nance decidedly. “Be quiet. A place which the whole of Nameless is not likely to find, so mysteriously is its entrance hidden. One could live there for a lifetime undiscovered—or be taken out as if on wings——” “Like Bossick’s disappearing steers!” Arnold was exasperated, but held his temper. “Exactly,” he said, “if you will. Now consider again. You are a pretty fine specimen of a woman—quite likely to appeal to men—especially to men long denied feminine companionship—like Basford there.” Nance flung a glance at Basford. His sullen, lowering face set in its thicket of beard with the red-rimmed eyes above was enough to chill the heart of any woman. The great ape-like body added its own threat. Her own intrepid spirit felt a shock of horror, but that deep anger in her left little room for fear. She seemed to hear again Brand Fair’s exultant words: “You’ll never leave the line, Nance, never in this world!” With a dogged courage heaving through the anger she looked back at Arnold. “Well?” she said. “Big Basford hasn’t had a woman of his own for many moons, I know. Now—will you sign this deed—or will you go with Basford to Rainbow’s Pot—his blushing bride?”