Sanderson nodded.

"Then you must have been to Okar." He groaned. "Where's Ben Nyland?"

"In Okar. He's lookin' for you." Sanderson leaned closer to the man and spoke sharply to him. "Look here, Dale; you were at the Double A.

What has become of Mary Bransford?"

"She went away with Barney Owen--to Okar. n.o.body hurt her," he said, as he saw Sanderson's eyes glow. "She's all right--she's with her brother."

He saw Sanderson's eyes; they were filled with an expression of incredulity; and a late moon, just showing its rim above the edge of the mesa above them, flooded the slope with a brilliancy that made it possible for Dale to see another expression in Sanderson's eyes--an expression which told him that Sanderson thought his mind was wandering.

He laughed, weakly.

"You think I'm loco, eh? Well, I ain't. Barney Owen ain't Barney Owen at all--he's Will Bransford. I found that out yesterday," he continued, soberly, as Sanderson looked quickly at him. "I had some men down to Tombstone way, lookin' him up.

"When old Bransford showed me the letter that you took away from me, I knew Will Bransford was in Tombstone; an' when Mary sent that thousand to him I set a friend of mine--Gary Miller--onto him. Gary an' two of his friends salivated young Bransford, but he turned up, later, minus the money, in Tombstone. Another friend of mine sent me word--an' a description of him. Barney Owen is Bransford.

"Just what happened to Gary Miller an' his two friends has bothered me a heap," went on Dale.

"They was to come this way, to help me in this deal. But they never showed up."

Sanderson smiled, and Dale's eyes gleamed.

"You know what's become of him!" he charged. "That's where you got that thousand you give to Mary Bransford--an' the papers, showin' that young Bransford was due here. Ain't it?"

"I ain't sayin'," said Sanderson.

"Well," declared Dale, "Barney Owen is Will Bransford. The night Morley got him drunk we went the limit with Owen, an' he talked enough to make me suspicious. That's why I sent to Tombstone to find out how he looked. We had the evidence to show the court at Las Vegas. We was goin' to prove you wasn't young Bransford, an' then we was goin' to put Owen out of the--"

Dale gasped, caught his breath, and stiffened.

Sanderson stayed with him until the dawn, sitting, quietly beside him until the end. Then Sanderson got up, threw the body on Dale's horse, mounted his own, and set out across the basin toward Okar.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

A DEAL IN LOVE

A few days later Mary Bransford, Sanderson, and Barney Owen were sitting on the porch of the Double A ranchhouse, near where they had sat on the day Mary and Owen and the Dale men had seen Sanderson riding along the edge of the mesa in his pursuit of Williams and the others.

Mary and Sanderson were sitting rather close together at one end of the porch; Barney Owen was sitting near them, on the porch edge, his elbows resting on his knees.

There had been a silence between the three for some time, but at last Sanderson broke it. He smiled at Mary.

"We'll build that dam--an' the irrigation plant now, mebbe," he said.

"But it's goin' to be a big job. Williams says it will take a year, or more."

"There will be difficulties, too, I suppose," said Mary.

"Sure."

"But difficulties do not worry you," she went on, giving him a glowing look.

He blushed. "We promised each other not to refer to that again," he protested. "You are breaking your promise."

"I just can't help it!" she declared. "I feel so good over your victory. Why, it really wasn't your affair at all, and yet you came here, fought our fight for us; and then, when it is all over, you wish us to say nothing about it! That isn't fair!"

He grinned. "Was you fair?" he charged.

"You told me the other day that you knew, the day after I ordered Dale away from the Double A--after tellin' you that I wasn't what I claimed to be--that Barney Owen wasn't Barney Owen at all, but your brother.

"An' you let me go on, not tellin' me. An' he didn't do a heap of talkin'. I ain't mentioned it until now, but I've wondered why?

Barney knew from the first day that I wasn't what I pretended to be.

Why didn't you tell me, Barney?"

Mary was blushing, and Barney's face was red. His eyes met Mary's and both pairs were lowered, guiltily.

Barney turned to Sanderson.

"Look at me!" he said. "Do I look like a man who could fight Dale, Silverthorn, and Maison--and the gang they had--with any hope of victory? When I got here--after escaping Gary Miller and the others--I was all in--sick and weak. It didn't take me long to see how things were. But I knew I couldn't do anything.

"I was waiting, though, for Gary Miller and his friends to come, to claim the Double A. I would have killed them. But they didn't come.

You came.

"At first I was not sure what to think of you. But I saw sympathy in your eyes when you looked at Mary, and when you told Dale that you were Will Bransford, I decided to keep silent. You looked capable, and when I saw that you were willing to fight for Mary, why--why--I just let you go. I--I was afraid that if I'd tell you who I was you'd throw up the whole deal. And so I didn't say anything."

Sanderson grinned. "That's the reason you was so willin' to sign all the papers that wanted Will Bransford's signature. I sure was a boxhead for not tumblin' to that."

He laughed, meeting Mary's gaze and holding it.

"Talkin' of throwin' up the deal," he said. "That couldn't be. Dale an' Silverthorn an' Maison an' their gang of cutthroats couldn't make me give it up. There's only one person could make me do that. She'd only have to say that she don't think as much of me as I think she ought to. And, then----"

"She'll keep pretty silent about that, I think," interrupted Owen, grinning at the girl's crimson face.

"I wouldn't be takin' your word for it," grinned Sanderson, "it wouldn't be reliable."

"Why--" began Mary, and looked at Owen.

"Sure," he laughed, "I'll go and take a walk. There are times when three can't explain a thing as well as two."

There was a silence following Owen's departure.

Then Mary looked shyly at Sanderson, who was watching her with a smile.

"Does it need any explaining?" she began. "Can't you see that----"

"Shucks, little girl," he said gently, as he leaned toward her, "words ain't--well, words ain't so awful important, are they?"