Her curt answer reminded him that he was in her eyes a convicted
criminal. "It's of no importance, sir."

"That's what you think, Miss Sanderson."

She sorted the newspapers in the bundle, and began to slip them into the
private boxes where they belonged. Presently, however, her curiosity
demanded satisfaction. Without looking at him, she volunteered
information.

"But there's no mystery about it. Phil borrowed the knife to fix a
stirrup leather, and forgot to give it back to me."

"Your brother?"

"Yes."

He was taken aback. There was nothing for it but a white lie. "I found
it near Yeager's mine yesterday. I reckon he must have dropped it on his
way there."

"I don't see anything very mysterious about that," she said frostily.

She looked so definitely unaware of him as she worked that he fell back
from the window and passed out to the porch. He had found out more than
he wanted to know.

Jim Yeager's drawling voice came to him, gentle and low as usual, but
with an edge to it. "I been discoverin' I'm some unpopular to-day,