"No," replied Neuman.
"I'm Chris Dorn's son. My father died a few days ago. He overtaxed his heart fighting fire in the wheat … Fire set by I.W.W. men. Glidden's men! … They burned our wheat. Ruined us!"
Neuman showed shock at the news, at the sudden death of an old friend, but he did not express himself in words.
"Do you deny implication in Glidden's plot to kill Anderson?" demanded Dorn.
"Yes," replied Neuman.
"Well, you're a liar!" retorted Dorn. "I saw you with Glidden and my father. I followed you at Wheatly—out along the railroad tracks. I slipped up and heard the plot. It was I who snatched the money from my father."
Neuman's nerve was gone, but with his stupid and stubborn process of thought he still denied, stuttering incoherently.
"Glidden has been hanged," went on Dorn. "A vigilante band has been organized here in the valley. Men of your known sympathy will not be safe, irrespective of your plot against Anderson. But as to that, publicity alone will be enough to ruin you.… Americans of the West will not tolerate traitors.… Now the question you've got to decide is this. Will you take the risks or will you sell out and leave the country?"
"I'll sell out," replied Neuman.
"What price do you put on your ranch as it stands?"