The doctor came the next day--in the morning. He found the patient no better. A woman, hired by Dale, was caring for the girl. Also, in the morning, Dale paid a visit. His visit was to Dal Colton, the man Dale had employed to kill Sanderson, and who had so signally failed. The scene of the meeting between Dale and Colton was in the rear room of the City Hotel. "Look here," said Dale. "This deal can't be no whizzer like you run in on Sanderson. He's got to be dropped, or things are goin' to happen to all of us. His name's Nyland--Ben Nyland. You know him?" Colton nodded. "Plenty. He's a fast man with a gun. I'll have to get him when he ain't lookin'. You'll get me clear?" "No one will know about it," declared Dale. "You go out to his ranch an' lay for him. He'll be in on the afternoon train. When he comes into the door of his house, nail him. That's easy." CHAPTER XXIV CONCERNING A WOMAN Day was breaking when Sanderson rode in to the Double A corral and dismounted. Several of the men of the outfit were astir, and he called to one of them, and told the man to care for his horse. He grinned around at them all, and then went into the house. Mary Bransford was not yet up. The door that Sanderson had gone out of the night before was still unlocked. He opened it and entered, passing through the sitting-room and halting in the kitchen. He had noted that the door to Mary's room was closed. Sanderson's dominant emotion was that of grim satisfaction. He had compelled Maison to disgorge the money without jeopardizing his own liberty. Judge Graney's word would suffice to prove his case should Maison proceed against him. But Sanderson had little fear that Maison would attempt reprisal. If he had judged the man correctly, Maison would not talk, even to Silverthorn. Sanderson cared very little if he did talk. He had reached the point where the killing of his enemies would come easy to him. They had chosen lawlessness, and he could wage that kind of warfare as well as they. He had shown them that he could. He disclosed the visible proof of his ability. One by one he drew the packages of currency from various pockets, tossing them at random on the kitchen table. He was standing at the table, counting the bills in one of the packages, when he heard a sound behind him. He wheeled, to confront Mary Bransford. She was dressed, but her face was as yet unwashed, and her hair uncombed. She stood in the doorway between the dining-room and the kitchen, looking at Sanderson in sleepy-eyed bewilderment. "I saw you riding in," she said. "Where on earth have you been at this hour? You came from the direction of Okar." "Business," he grinned. "Business! Why, what kind of business could take you to Okar during the night?" "If you could get the sleep out of your eyes," he suggested, "mebbe you could see. It's the kind of business that all the world is interested in--gettin' the money."