Hervey blessed again the mercy of the darkness which concealed the
crimson that spread hotly over his face. There was enough truth in what
the rancher said to make the untruths the more painful. Before the
accident Hervey had, indeed, been all that anyone could ask in a
manager. But when too much authority came into his hands owing to the
crippling of his chief, the temptation proved too strong for resistance.
It was all so easy. A few score of cows run off here and there were
never noted, and his share in the profit was fifty-fifty. Indeed, as the
hand of Jordan crushed over his own he came perilously near to making a
clean breast of everything, but the memory of his fat and growing
bank-account gagged the confession.

"If that's the way things are standing," Jordan was saying, "we got to
get rid of this skunk Perris. Good-looking, as I remember him, and
Marianne is so darned lonely on the ranch that she might begin to take
him serious and--Hervey, I'll give you a written note. That'll be
authority. I'll give you a note to Marianne, telling her that I've got
to go across the mountains and that I want you to have the running of
the place till I get back. I guess that'll give you a free hand, Lew!
You fire that Perris, and when he's gone, send me word over to the hotel
in Lawrence. That's where I'll go."

Hervey appeared dubious with great skill.

"I'll take the note, Jordan," he said, putting all the despair he could
summon into his tone. "But it sure goes hard--the idea of losing my
place up here. I've been in the Valley so long, you see, that it's like
a home to me."

"And who the devil said anything about you leaving? Ain't I just now