But the girl watched him
anxiously, suspecting something of the grim thoughts that tortured him,
and at dinner she spoke to him.
"Deal," she said, "don't be rash. Those men have done a lawless thing,
but they still have the power to invoke the law against you."
"I ain't goin' to be lawless--yet," he grinned.
But Sanderson was yielding to an impulse that had assailed him. His
manner betrayed him to Owen, at least, who spoke to Mary about it.
"He's framing up something--or he's got it framed up and is ready to
act," he told the girl. "He has got that calm during the past few
hours that I feel like I'm in the presence of an iceberg when I'm near
him."
Whatever was on Sanderson's mind he kept to himself. But late that
night, when the ranchhouse was dark, and a look through one of the
windows of the bunkhouse showed Sanderson there were only two men
awake--and they playing cards sleepily--he threw saddle and bridle on
Streak and rode away into the inky darkness of the basin.
Shortly after dusk on the same night Silverthorn, Dale, and Maison were
sitting at a table in Maison's private office in the bank building.
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