“Why didn’t you buy him?” Danforth grinned sarcastically: “I didn’t feel that reckless.” “Honest, eh?” Carrington rested his chin in the palm of his right hand and scowled into the street. He was convinced that Danforth had done everything he could to win the election, and he was bitterly chagrined over the result. But that result was not the dominating thought in his mind. He kept seeing Taylor as the latter had stood on the station platform, stunned with surprise over the knowledge that he had been so signally honored by the people of Dawes. And Carrington had seen Marion Harlan’s glances at the man; he had been aware of the admiring smile she had given Taylor; and bitter passion gripped Carrington at the recollection of the smile. More—he had seen Taylor’s face when the girl had smiled. The smile had thrilled Taylor—it had held promise for him, and Carrington knew it. Carrington continued to stare out into the street. Danforth watched him furtively, in silence. At last, not opening his lips, Carrington spoke: “Tell me about this man, Taylor.” “Taylor owns the Arrow ranch, in the basin south of here. His ranch covers about twenty thousand acres. He has a clear title. “According to report, he employs about thirty men. They are holy terrors—that is, they are what is called ‘hard cases,’ though they are not outlaws by any means. Just a devil-may-care bunch that raises hell when it strikes town. They swear by Taylor.” So far as Carrington could see, everybody in Dawes swore by Taylor. Carrington grimaced. “That isn’t what I want to know,” he flared. “How long has he been here; what kind of a fellow is he?” “Taylor owned the Arrow before Dawes was founded. When the railroad came through it brought with it some land-sharks that tried to frame up on the ranch-owners in the vicinity. It was a slick scheme, they tell me. They had clouded every title, and figured to grab the whole county, it seems. “Taylor went after them. People I’ve talked with here say it was a dandy shindy while it lasted. The land-grabbers brought the courts in, and a crooked judge. Taylor fought them, crooked judge and all, to a bite-the-dust finish. Toward the end it was a free-for-all—and the land-grabbers were chased out of the county. “Naturally, the folks around here think a lot of Taylor for the part he played in the deal. Besides that, he’s a man that makes friends quickly—and holds them.” “Has Taylor any interests besides his ranch?” “A share in the water company, I believe. He owns some land in town; and he is usually on all the public committees here.” “About thirty, isn’t he?” “Twenty-eight.” Carrington looked at the other with a sidelong, sneering grin: “Have any ladies come into his young life?” Danforth snickered. “You’ve got me—I hadn’t inquired. He doesn’t seem to be much of a ladies’ man, though, I take it. Doesn’t seem to have time to monkey with them.” “H-m!” Carrington’s lips went into a pout as he stared straight ahead of him.