He reined Comet about, turning again toward the range, and gave him his head.  Pollard watched him a moment, then swinging about upon his heel, went back toward the school house.  Chase Harper’s voice from within rose above the fiddle and guitar, calling for the quadrille.  Broderick came forward to meet Pollard.

“Well?” he asked quickly.  “You made him your proposition?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?” Broderick’s voice and eyes alike were eager.

“He swallowed it whole,” laughed Pollard.

Broderick laughed with him, and then suddenly, the laughter going out of his voice, his hand shutting down tight upon Pollard’s arm and drawing him away further from the door, deeper into the shadows, his words almost a whisper, he said: 

“He danced with Winifred.  You saw that?”

“Yes, damn him.  That’s what he came for.  But I don’t think that they said anything....”

“Shut up, man!  Don’t you suppose I know what you mean?  I don’t know what they said.  It’s up to you to find out.  He gave her something, a little parcel done up in paper.  I don’t know what.  That’s up to you, too.  And, what’s more,” and his voice grew harsh with the menace in it, “it’s up to you that they don’t see each other again!  I don’t think that any harm was done tonight.  He went away red-mad.  When I stopped him at the door for a minute he hardly knew I was there.  They didn’t say a word to each other the last half of their dance.  She said something to him, and her eyes were on fire when she said it, like his when he went out; that put an end to their talk.  They didn’t even say good night.”

“I’ve got a notion to send her away,” muttered Pollard sullenly.  “It was a fool idea to drag a woman into this.”

“Send her away ... now?” cried Broderick sharply.  “You’re the fool, Pollard.  She’s the best bit of evidence we’ve got.  Keep her here, but for God’s sake, man, keep her close!  And let’s jam this thing through to a quick finish.”

“You’re right, I suppose, Broderick.”  Pollard ran his hand across a wet forehead.  “We’ve got to put the whole thing across in a hurry.  Ten days, and we’ll wind it up....  What’s Cole Dalton doing?”

“He’s getting mighty hot under the collar,” said Broderick grimly.  “He’s got to get somebody in his little old jail damn’ soon, or he’ll have a bunch of wild men in his hair.  And he knows it.  Now we can get our crop planted and things will be ripe for him to gather in in eleven days.”

“Let’s go inside.”  Pollard turned toward the front door.  “I want to see Winifred.  I want to see how she looks before she gets through thinking about Thornton.”

And Winifred Waverly, who, after her stunned hesitation when she had seen Thornton and Broderick standing side by side in the doorway, and who had hurried out through the back door, hoping to find Thornton before he had gone, got to her feet in the black shadow where she had crouched by the school house wall, her face dead white, her eyes wide and staring, her heart pounding wildly.