“Oh, well! I dare say the story won’t get out at all, but if it does I’ll see the gossips get the right version. I suppose Sam Yesler will back it up.” “Of course. He’s a white man. And I don’t need to tell you that I’ll be a whole lot obliged to you, Stevie.” “That’s all right. Sometimes I’m a white man, too, Waring,” laughed Steve. Ridgway circled the table and put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder affectionately. Steve Eaton was the one of all his associates for whom he had the closest personal feeling. “I don’t need to be told that, old pal,” he said quietly. CHAPTER VIII. THE HONORABLE THOMAS B. PELTON It was next morning that Steve came into Ridgway’s offices with a copy of the Rocky Mountain Herald in his hands. As soon as the president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company was through talking with Dalton, the superintendent of the Taurus, about the best means of getting to the cage a quantity of ore he was looting from the Consolidated property adjoining, the treasurer plumped out with his news. “Seen to-day’s paper, Waring? It smokes out Pelton to a finish. They’ve moled out some facts we can’t get away from.” Ridgway glanced rapidly over the paper. “We’ll have to drop Pelton and find another candidate for the Senate. Sorry, but it can’t be helped. They’ve got his record down too fine. That affidavit from Quinton puts an end to his chances.” “He’ll kick like a bay steer.” “His own fault for not covering his tracks better. This exposure doesn’t help us any at best. If we still tried to carry Pelton, we should last about as long as a snowball in hell.” “Shall I send for him?” “No. He’ll be here as quick as he can cover the ground. Have him shown in as soon as he comes. And Steve—did Harley arrive on the eight-thirty this morning?” “Yes. He is putting up at the Mesa House. He reserved an entire floor by wire, so that he has bed-rooms, dining-rooms, parlors, reception-halls and private offices all together. The place is policed thoroughly, and nobody can get up without an order.” “I haven’t been thinking of going up and shooting him, even though it would be a blessing to the country,” laughed his chief. “No, but it is possible somebody else might. This town is full of ignorant foreigners who would hardly think twice of it. If he had asked my advice, it would have been to stay away from Mesa.” “He wouldn’t have taken it,” returned Ridgway carelessly. “Whatever else is true about him, Simon Harley isn’t a coward. He would have told you that not a sparrow falls to the ground without the permission of the distorted God he worships, and he would have come on the next train.” “Well, it isn’t my funeral,” contributed Steve airily. “All the same I’m going to pass his police patrols and pay a visit to the third floor of the Mesa House.” “You are going to compromise with him?” cried Eaton swiftly.