"In there," said Payson feebly, pointing to the door. Dick eagerly started toward the house, but Jack halted him, saying: "No--you mustn't go in now. There's a party-you see, she hasn't been well, doesn't expect you to-night. The shock might be too much for her." Jack grasped at the lame excuse. It was the first to come to his mind. He must think quickly. This experience was tearing the heart out of him. He could not save himself from betrayal much longer. "You're right," acquiesced Dick. "You tell her when you get a chance. Jack, as I was saying, I've made quite a bit of money out of my Bisbee holdings. I can pay back my stake to you now." "Not now," said Jack nervously. Would this torture never end? Here was his friend, whom he had betrayed come back in the very hour of his marriage to the woman who had promised first to marry him. Now he was offering him money, which Jack needed badly, for his prospective mother-in-law was complaining about his taking her daughter to a mortgaged home. "Sure, now," continued Dick, pulling a roll of bills from his pocket. "It's three thousand dollars--here it is, all in one bundle." "Not now, let that wait," said Jack, pushing the money aside. "It's waited long enough," cried Dick doggedly. "You put the mortgage on your ranch to let me have the money, and it must be about due now." "Yes, it will be due, but let it wait." "What's the use? I'm all right now. I brought the cash with me on purpose. I wanted to square it with you on sight." Dick pressed the money into Jack's hand, closing his fingers over the roll of bills. With a sigh of relief, as if a disagreeable task was completed, he questioned: "How's Bud?" Jack replied shortly: "All right; he's inside." "I didn't write to him," cheerfully resumed Dick. "I didn't want the kid to know. He is so excitable, he would have blabbed it right out. I'll sure be glad to see the boy again. He's impulsive, but his heart's all right. I know you've kept a lookout over him." This trust in him was getting too much for Jack to bear, so the voice of Polly crying to him to hurry up was music to his ears. "I'm coming," he shouted. "I'll see you in a few minutes," he told Dick. "I've something to tell you. I can't tell you now." "Go in, then," answered Dick. "I'll wait yonder in the garden. Don't keep me waiting any longer than you can help." Dick turned and walked slowly toward the gate which lead to the kitchen-garden, a part of every ranch home in Arizona. It was cut off from the house by a straggling hedge, on which Echo had spent many hours trying to keep it in shape. Jack hesitated about going into the house. Even if Echo married him, he knew that she would never forgive him when she learned of his dastardly conduct from Dick Lane's own mouth. It was better to sacrifice the life of one to save three lives from being ruined.