"You don't seem to understand the full significance of the attitude you are taking," Bancroft presently went on. "Of course, I do not wish, just now, to have Conrad, or any one else, know all the events of my past life. I have been living an honorable life in this Territory, and you can very well comprehend that I do not wish my reputation and business success smashed--by you or anybody else. That is the only reason why I was willing to enter into an understanding with you. But my affairs are getting in such shape that I can soon snap my fingers at you or any one who tries to disclose my identity. At best, you'll be able to get little more out of me, and I am amazed that you should be willing to risk this trial, with its certain disgrace, conviction, and sentence to the penitentiary, for the sake of the few hundred dollars of--blackmail--let us call it by its right name--that you may be able to extort from me." "I am quite willing to take whatever risk there is," Jenkins interposed, "especially as my counsel could readily bring out the fact that you had tried to--blackmail--let us call it by its right name--to blackmail me before you gave the information. Do as you please about going to the district attorney; I don't care a damn whether you do or not. But, if you do, you'll have to settle with Curt Conrad before the week is out!" Bancroft arose, perceiving acutely that the only course left for him was to make a strong bluff and retreat. "Very well," he said, with an indifference he was far from feeling, "do as you like about that. Only don't delude yourself by supposing that Curt Conrad's knowing about that old affair will mean any more to me than anybody else's knowledge. When you think this proposal of mine over carefully I'm sure you'll change your mind, and I shall expect to hear from you to that effect." CHAPTER XVII SENTENCE OF DEATH As the Spring days passed, in unbroken procession of rosy dawns, cloudless and glowing noons, and gorgeous sunsets, Louise Dent's resentment against Curtis Conrad grew keen and bitter. She saw the lines of worry appearing in Bancroft's face, and surprised now and then in his eyes an anxious abstraction; and in her heart she stormed against the man she supposed to be the sole cause of it all. Dreading his next visit lest she might betray her feeling, she longed to drive him from the house, when he should come, with burning, shaming words. But Bancroft, who knew as much of his intention as she did, was on terms of cordial friendship with him, and she must take her cue from her friend and host.