The young woman did not answer. But there was no longer disdain in her fear-filled eyes. She swung the car, as though by a sudden impulse, to the left and drove to the building where the older James Cunningham had had his offices.
"If you want to ask me questions you'd better ask them before Jack," she said as she stepped out.
"Suits me exactly," he agreed.
Her lithe, long body moved beside him gracefully, its every motion perfectly synchronized. In her close-fitting, stylish gown she was extremely handsome. There was a kind of proud defiance in the set of her oval jaw, as though even in the trouble that involved her she was a creature set apart from others.
"Mr. Lane has a question he wants to ask you, Jack," she said when they were in the inner office.
Kirby smiled, and in his smile there were friendliness and admiration.
"First off, I have to apologize for some things I said two days ago.
I'll eat humble pie. I accused you of somethin'. You're not the man,
I've found out."
"Yes?" Jack, standing behind his desk in the slim grace of well-dressed youth, watched him warily.
"We've found out at last who the man is."
"Indeed!" Jack knew that Esther McLean had been found by her friends and taken away. No doubt she had told them her story. Did the cattleman mean to expose James before the woman he knew to be his wife? That wouldn't be quite what he would expect of Lane.
"Incidentally, I have some news for you. One of your uncle's stenographers, a Miss McLean, has just been married to a friend of mine, the champion rough rider. Perhaps you may have heard of him. His name is Cole Sanborn."