But her emotions were by no means shared by her husband. For all her beauty and woman's charm she was different, utterly different from him. She had been brought up to the understanding that she would have to make her own way in the world. All her parents had been able to do for her was to see that she was as fully equipped for the adventure of life as their limited means would permit. Those means would die when her chief parent died, and the style in which they had lived left no margin for saving. So, with cool calculation, Effie had set about her life's effort. Nor had she considered herself unsuccessful in the first spreading of her maiden wings. A millionaire's son! It was a splendid match. It had met with the entire approval of her family. Then had come disillusionment. A determined opposition from Bob's father. She had been urged to break off the engagement. She even intended to do so. But some how she had miscalculated the nature which her education had been powerless to eradicate. She realized at last when the demands of her campaign made themselves heard, that there was something she had hitherto completely ignored. There was the woman's heart of her. She had most absurdly fallen in love with this first stepping-stone toward the goal of her ambition. It was the absurd uncalculating love of extreme youth. But it was sufficiently impetuous to flout all the reason which her training and upbringing had been calculated to inspire her with. The rest followed in natural sequence, and now, after two years of married penury, she was ready to seize any straw which chance flung in her way as a means of salving that ambition which she now saw, with more perfectly clear vision, was completely upon the rocks. Now, in her mind, there were only three matters of concern. Would Dug McFarlane come? Would they succeed in capturing this Lightfoot gang? Would she get those ten thousand dollars, which appeared so vast a sum to eyes only accustomed to dwelling upon cents? Bob was silent. His whole aspect seemed to have undergone a complete changes. He had returned to her with the story of his interview with Dug McFarlane. He had returned to her with the assurance that he had sold his conscience, his honor, at her bidding, and he hoped she was satisfied. Since then he had wrapped himself in a moody silence which had defied her utmost effort to break down. The horses stood ready saddled in the barn. Effie was clad in her riding suit. As yet the moon had not risen to reduce the starlit magnificence of the velvet summer night sky. Nor was there any sound to warn them that the hours of suspense were nearly over. Finally, Effie could endure the silence no longer. Her dark eyes were intently gazing down upon the bowed figure of the man. They were hard with every bitter woman's emotion. She was full of a fierce, hot resentment against the man who could so obstinately resist the spirit of her longing.