Since the first meeting with the girl on the train Taylor had felt an entire sympathy with Larry Harlan in his expressed desire to have Taylor marry the girl; in fact, she was the first girl that Taylor had ever wanted to marry, and the passion in his heart for her had already passed the wistful stage—he was determined to have her. But that passion did not lessen his sense of obligation to Larry Harlan. Nor would it—if he could not have the girl himself—prevent him doing what he could to keep her from forming any sort of an alliance with the sort of man Larry had wished to save her from, as expressed in this passage of the note: “If Marion is going to fall in with one of that kind, I’d rather she wouldn’t get what I leave.” Therefore, since Taylor distrusted Carrington and Parsons, he had decided he would not tell the girl of the money her father had left—the share of the proceeds of the mine. He would hold it for her, as a sacred trust, until the time came—if it ever came—when she would have discovered their faithlessness—or until she needed the money. More, he was determined to expose the men. He knew, thanks to his eavesdropping on the train, at least something regarding the motives that had brought them to Dawes; Carrington’s words, “When we get hold of the reins,” had convinced him that they and the interests behind them were to endeavor to rob the people of Dawes. That was indicated by their attempt to have David Danforth elected mayor of the town. Taylor had already decided that he could not permit Marion to see the note her father had left, for he did not want her to feel that she was under any obligation—parental or otherwise—to marry him. If he won her at all, he wanted to win her on his merits. As a matter of fact, since he had decided to lie about the money, he was determined to say nothing about the note at all. He would keep silent, making whatever explanations that seemed to be necessary, trusting to time and the logical sequence of events for the desired outcome. He was forced to begin to lie at once. When he had finished the story of Larry’s untimely death, the girl looked straight at him. “Then you were with him when he died. Did—did he mention anyone—my mother—or me?” “He said: ‘Squint, there is a daughter’”—Taylor was quoting from the note—“‘she was fifteen when I saw her last. She looked just like me—thank God for that!’” Taylor blushed when he saw the girl’s face redden, for he knew what her thoughts were. He should not have quoted that sentence. He resolved to be more careful; and went on: “He told me I was to take care of you, to offer you a home at the Arrow—after I found you. I was to go to Westwood, Illinois, to find you. I suppose he wanted me to bring you here.”