"_Bah!_ What does he count in this deal? It's this engineer. I've been chewing it over all afternoon. Miss Chuckie is as innocent and trusting as a lamb, spite of her winterings in Denver, and she's plumb locoed over him, reading so much about him in the reports." "Still, it does not necessarily follow--" "Don't it, though!" broke in the puncher. "Guess you didn't find it any funnier than I did seeing her hanging onto his shoulder." "Curse him!" cried Ashton, his jealousy flaring at the remembrance. "Now you're talking!" approved Gowan. "That shows you like her like I do. You're not going to stand for her losing her fortune." "Her fortune?" "By his flooding us off our range." "Ah--as for that, I have been thinking it over. She told me Mr. Knowles owns five sections. If water is put on them--Western Colorado fruit lands are very valuable, you know." "That's a lie. Water can't make five sections worth a range like ours. But supposing it could--" the puncher leaned towards Ashton, his eyes glaring with the cold malignancy of a striking rattlesnake's--"supposing it could, how about us letting her lose her good name?" "Good God!" gasped Ashton. "It can't come to that!" "Can't it? can't it? Where's your eyes? And him a married man! The--" Gowan cursed horribly. "You really believe it!" cried Ashton, convinced by the other's outburst. "Believe it? I know it!" declared Gowan. "If you thought half as much of her as I do--" "I do!--not half, but a hundred times more!" "Yes, you do?" "I swear it! I'd do anything for her!" "Except save her from him." "No, no! How can I? Tell me how!" The puncher bent nearer to the half-frenzied man. "You're going down that gulch with him. Suppose a spike gets knocked out or a rope breaks or a loose rock gets pushed over?" "God!" cried Ashton, putting his hands over his eyes. "That would be murder!" "_Bah!_ You'd make a dog sick! Willing to do anything for her--except save her from him! And nothing to it but just an accident that's just as like as not to happen anyway." "But--murder!" shudderingly muttered Ashton. "Murder a skunk," sneered Gowan. "If saving her from him isn't a case of justifiable homicide, what is? Don't you get the idea? Just a likely accident, down there where nobody can see." Ashton dropped his hands, half clenched, to his sides. Beads of cold sweat were gathering and running down his drawn face. "I can't!" he whispered. "I--I can't!" "Not if I agree to get out of the way and give you clear running?" tempted Gowan. "You would?" "Yes. You see how much I like her. You rid her of him, and I'll let you have her for doing it." Ashton shuddered. "Think it over--and watch him mighty close tonight," advised the tempter. A red flush leaped into Ashton's face. Gowan struck his spurs into his horse's flank and loped away.