He blinked again and looked at her with an appeal that wiped out any impression of charlatanry, of preposterousness that she might have had; he was wholly sincere. "Why ... I don't know what I could say ... what I could do." "Nor I. But you know Hilton; you know the girl; I have made you familiar with the situation. I rely on your resourcefulness. May I bring him to you?" "Why, he wouldn't come here!" The Reverend rattled his pens and said: "I think I might persuade him. Have I, as your employee, your permission, I might say, your _order_, to bring him here?" "Of course. If there is anything I can do.... Ugh!" She shuddered and pressed a wrist against her eyes. "It's beastly! Beastly!" The Reverend departed and throughout the day Jane Hunter could think of little other than the situation which he had outlined to her. Her wrath was roused, replacing the disgust she had felt at first, and her heart went out to Bobby Cole with a tenderness that only woman can know for woman. She tried to think ahead, to consider what she could say or do, to speculate on what the results of this next meeting with Dick Hilton might be. Evening was well into dusk with the first stars pricking through the failing daylight when two riders came through the HC gate. Dick Hilton rode first and behind him, one hand in a deep pocket of his frock coat, rode the Reverend. "You can get down and open the gate," the Reverend said and Hilton, sulkily obeying, led his horse through. "Now what?" he asked in surly submission. "Now I'll finish my errand by escorting you to the owner of this establishment." Hilton led his horse across to the dooryard. The Reverend dismounted and the two walked down the cottonwoods to the big veranda, the Easterner still in the lead, the other with his hand in his side pocket. Jane saw them; she was at the door. "Good evening!" said Hilton with bitterness. "In accordance with your orders, ma'am, I persuaded this gentleman to call," said Beal, almost humbly. "I'll feed his horse and return later." He turned and hurried up the path. Hilton pulled down his coat sleeves irritably and looked at Jane with a bitter smile. "To what do I owe the ... the honor of such a summons?" "Come in, Dick. I want to talk to you,"--keeping her voice and expression steady. She held the door open to him and he entered, his mouth drawn down in a sardonic grimace. A single shaded lamp was lighted and as she turned to him she could see his eyes glittering balefully in the semi-darkness. "Rather different from our last meeting," he said testily. "Then you were concerned with my going; now you seem determined to have me here." "Let's not discuss the past, Dick. I called you here for a definite purpose. Can you guess what it is?" He eyed her in hostile speculation. "I don't see where anything that concerns me could concern you now. That is, unless you've changed your mind." She gave him a wry smile and a shake of her head.