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:
"Well--what is it?"
Sanderson crossed the room and halted beside the desk. For an instant
neither man spoke. Sanderson saw a man of medium height with a rather
well-rounded stomach, sloping shoulders, and a sleek, well-fed
appearance. His cheeks were full and florid, his lips large and loose;
his eyes cold, calculating, and hard.
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