"You're a brick, Della!" he laughed.
She got up and stood beside him as he wrote. And Warden did not see the designing light in her eyes as she watched him. And her smile, as she signed her name to what he had written, was inscrutable—containing much knowledge of Warden's motives, and concealing still more of her own.
In her room, while undressing, she laughed.
CHAPTER XXVI
A MENACE APPEARS
Sheriff Moreton waited for Warden to act, as he had promised. And the sheriff continued to wait. For Warden did not appear with his evidence. It seemed that the power behind Warden had called a truce; that it had been disconcerted by its failures, and was waiting—slowly marshaling its forces for another assault. But the power was working secretly, if it worked at all, for during the winter there were no visible signs which would indicate activity on the part of Lawler's enemies.
Nature seemed to wait, also. The country, between storms, lay bare and naked, bleakly barren where the winds swept; somber in the valleys, with desolation reigning on the coldly gleaming peaks of the hills and the distant mountains.
Willets was somnolent, lethargic. Occasionally a canvas-covered wagon rumbled over the frozen windrows of the town's one street, and rumbled out again, loaded with supplies for a distant ranch; or a group of cowboys, in search of diversion, came into town for a night. But these visitations were so infrequent as to create no disturbance in the dull, slumberous routine of Willets' citizens.
Warden and Della Wharton, accompanied by Aunt Hannah, had taken a west-bound train shortly after Miss Wharton's adventure in the Circle L line cabin. It was whispered they had gone to the capital for the winter.
Sheriff Moreton had ridden over to the Circle L, to quiz Lawler about the killing of Link and Givens.