He laughed again, raucously, and turned his back to Sanderson, disappearing into the store.
Sanderson glanced behind him. Several men were watching him, their faces set and determined. Sanderson grinned at them and continued his interrupted walk down the street.
But something had been added to his hatred of Alva Dale—the knowledge that Dale would not scruple to murder him on any pretext. Sanderson's grin grew wider as he walked, for he knew of several men who had harbored such evil intentions against him, and they——
But Dale was a stronger antagonist, and he had power and authority behind him. Still, his spirit undaunted, Sanderson's grin grew wider, though perhaps more grim. It was entirely worth while, now, the deceiving of the woman he had hoped to protect; it wasn't her fight, but his. And he would make the fight a good one.
CHAPTER XIII
A PLOT THAT WORKED
Sanderson left the board walk and cut through a yard to the railroad. He followed the rails until he reached the station. To his question the station agent informed him that Dave Silverthorn might be found in his office on the second floor of the building.
Sanderson went up. A sign on a glass door bore Silverthorn's name. Sanderson entered without knocking.
Silverthorn was seated at a desk in a far corner of the room. He looked up as Sanderson opened the door, and said shortly: