"Sheriff Minter? What of it? Rather nervy of the old ass to come up here
for the party; he hardly knows us."

"No, no! Not that! But don't you remember? Don't you remember what Joe
Minter did?"

"Good Lord!" gasped Vance, apparently just recalling. "He killed Black
Jack! And what will Terry do when he finds out?"

She grew still whiter, hearing him name her own fear.

"They mustn't meet," she said desperately. "Vance, if you're half a man
you'll find some way of getting that pompous, windy idiot off the place."

"My dear! Do you want me to invite him to leave?"

"Something--I don't care what!"

"Neither do I. But I can't insult the fool. That type resents an insult
with gunplay. We must simply keep them apart. Keep the sheriff from
talking."

"Keep rain from falling!" groaned Elizabeth. "Vance, if you won't do
anything, I'll go and tell the sheriff that he must leave!"

"You don't mean it!"

"Do you think that I'm going to risk a murder?"

"I suppose you're right," nodded Vance, changing his tactics with