"All right; we'll get down to business. I'm going to draw up an affidavit that, as far as the divorce proceedings are concerned, you never retained any lawyer, and never were served with a summons, either in Colorado Springs or anywhere else; that you never knew of the pending of the action, nor that this suit was to be brought to trial. And you are to swear to this, do you understand?" Buckner whistled suggestively. "What's the financial proposition?" "Five thousand dollars if I use it; five hundred if I don't." "Suppose Jennings turns up with those letters. There's a penalty for that, isn't there?" "We'll take good care that Jennings doesn't turn up," Levy assured him, "and we would be taking all the risk." It was Buckner's turn to become absorbed, and this time it was Levy who refilled his glass. "It would be a lot of money," he muttered to himself, as he nervously gulped the brandy down, "and it would hit her hard. Go ahead, Levy. Draw up your damned paper and I'll sign it. Never knew I was so popular, anyhow." Levy left him for a few moments while he dictated the affidavit, returning to his private office while the stenographer was writing out her notes. "I don't suppose you know anything about the personal affairs of Mrs. Buckner-Gorham which would be of assistance to us in this case, do you?" Buckner thought hard. Ideas came slowly to him in his present condition, but at last he looked up with an expression which interested the lawyer. "She thought herself too good for me," he muttered, "but there is something I should like to have her explain," he said. "And what is that?" Levy asked, quickly jumping at a possible clew. "After she found me in the trail she disappeared for two weeks before she returned to her father's ranch, and I should like to know where she spent that time." "Where do you think she spent it?" "I don't know for sure, but there are people who say she was with a prospector in his shack four or five miles from my ranch. I didn't hear about it until afterward; but, anyhow, there was a man rode back with her to her father's ranch who got her into the hospital in Denver after she found her father was dead. She thinks she's better than I am, but, just the same, I'd like to know who that man was." Levy quickly made a few notes. "I think I may be able to assist you in gratifying that desire," he remarked. * * * * * The next day after receiving the message, Covington again found himself within Levy's dingy offices, and this time he experienced no delay in being conducted to the sanctum in the rear, where he found the lawyer ready to receive him with a genial smile and a cordiality which expressed itself in the briskness with which he rubbed his hands together. "I think you will be well pleased with the rapid progress of our investigations," Levy began. "I judged so by your letter." Covington was noncommittal.