Square Deal Sanderson

y other things. He had not told the true story of how he came to be employed at the Double A-

that had endured for days. He had been so weak that he could not stand when she found him, and in some way sh

him about her fear of Dale, and thereafter-as soon as he wa

t man. For though he was always seen about the ranchhouse during the day-helping at odd jobs and appearing to be busy nearly a

on to go to Las Vegas, but on the second night following his return-soon after dark-he went t

ows of the house-Dale's office-and he left his horse in the shadows and stole forward. There were two men in the office w

as they sat before Dale in the office, showed the effects of their haste. Yet they grinned at Dale as they talked, glowing with p

th, eh?" he said. "You say you heard he st

pened it, and called to someone in another room. Dave Silverthorn entered the office, and for more

ng to forgive and forget, for he grinned at Owen, who was watching him from the door of the bunkh

aid, "how does it feel

ale," smiled the girl. "Wo

s forced geniality, his gruff heartiness, his huge smile, were all insincere, masking evil. He seemed

d didn't brand them cattle at all-it was another man, living down the basin. That nester near Colby's. He done

r over. But he saw that Mary did not

Will this mornin'

red in the door

f you was half looki

Dale. "But if there's

anderson. "Because if you did," he went on befor

be hangin' around here no longer

a heap," draw

m Las Vegas that you've swore to an affidavit sayin' that you're Will Bransford. Tha

you've got to do your registerin' same as though the brand had never been registered before. B

k, with your name and address, specifyin' y

legal-looking pape

ditated, refusing to accept the paper, divining that Dale was concealing his real purpose; but glancing sidewise he caught a swift w

er from Dale's hand. Then he abruptly stro

ting-room as Owen entered the room throug

rapidly to Sanderson, and the latter's face grew pale a

to write it. I've seen it more times than any other man ever sa

and a bottle of ink and wrote boldly: "Will Br

ure was seemingly a duplicate of that which had been written at

ho whispered to him. Sanderson stiffened, looked hard at Owen, and then grinned wit

e; he saw the expression of disappointment that sw

opped about a year ago-the one you picked up. It was a letter from me, an' dad h