"We must carry out the farce, Burkhardt, for the sake of appearances."

"I'd like to blow them up along with their dam!" was the scowling rejoinder, "Well, let 'em inspect. Next time they come back there won't be any."

"I believe we should arrest Weir before the thing's pulled off,"

Gordon said, meditatively. "It would be surer."

Sorenson set his heavy jaw.

"No. I want him to see the wreck; I want him to know just what's happened before he's haled away; I want him feeling good and sick already when he gets the next jolt."

"Sure. It's him or us, as I've said from the first; and I've always believed in making a clean sweep," Vorse remarked. "We have the right line this time. First, make his men drunk and sore; then smash the works; then arrest him quick; and last finish him off with a bullet during a pretended jail delivery."

"There will be elements of danger in the last," Judge Gordon stated, cautiously.

Vorse smiled and Burkhardt grinned.

"Not so you'll notice it," said the latter. "The town won't know anything about it until afterwards. Just a few good men at night, masked and working fast, and the thing is done."

"I'll not feel easy till it's over."

"Keep up your nerve, Judge," Burkhardt grunted. "You used to be as lively as anybody when you were young."

"I know, I know. But this Weir isn't going to stand idle. If he ever gets a chance with his gun----"

"He won't get it," said Vorse.

"And he'll not resist the sheriff when Madden arrests him legally,"

Sorenson added. "Nothing could be better for us than if he did. He knows that."

"Still I'll be glad when next week is past," the Judge replied, with a sigh.

CHAPTER XIII

THE CURRENT OF EVENTS

Though outwardly the world's face was as calm as ever, though peace seemed to bask on San Mateo and the broad mesa and lofty mountain range, events were rapidly shaping themselves to bring a thunder crash of contending forces. Not Weir, not even the little evil cabal plotting so desperately against him, guessed the scope and power of the pa.s.sions to be released.

As a vital impulse towards the climax, though an unconscious one on her part so far as the general play of circ.u.mstance was concerned, Janet Hosmer informed Ed Sorenson of her determination to break their engagement. This was the same evening she returned from the Johnson ranch, when he called at her telephoned request. He went to her home under the impression that his box of candy and bundle of new magazines had restored him to favor. He was very jaunty, in fact, and bent on persuading her to name an early day for their nuptials.

Imagine his wrath when she explained that she wished to say that she could not marry him, at the same time handing him his ring and the other trinkets he had bestowed upon her.

"Is it because of our little spat last night about the engineer?" he demanded. "I apologized, Janet. I'm sorry still, and I love you above everything else."

"I think not," said she.

"But I do, Janet. Above everything."

"No, not above yourself and your vices. You deceived me for a long time, but now I know the truth. You aroused my suspicions when you mentioned a Johnson girl; there's only one Johnson girl hereabouts, as I learned; and this noon I visited her and her father. They informed me fully about your conduct towards Mary at Bowenville and your promises to marry her--that, when you were engaged to me. There are other things I heard to-day. Of affairs with Mexican girls that are shameful."

"Lies, lies!" was the pa.s.sionate disclaimer. "Or if I have been flirting a little, and never since my engagement, it's no more than any fellow does."

"You can neither excuse nor justify your words and actions towards Mary Johnson not a month ago."

"They're liars, I tell you."

"Will you confront them and say that?"

Taken by surprise Sorenson hesitated, flushed, and then made a gesture of disdain.

"I'll not, because I'll not condescend to answer such baseless charges," he stated. "I thought you had sense enough not to believe every little thing you hear. Certainly I expect you not to believe this, and I know you won't on consideration. Then we'll be married. I came here to-night to urge you to marry me soon."

"I'll never marry you, and we're no longer engaged. You've acted faithlessly and dishonorably. You're not the decent man I thought you were."

"Don't you still love me, Janet?"

"No. I don't think I ever loved you; I was loving a man who didn't exist, an illusion I imagined to be Ed Sorenson, not your real self.

If I loved at all, which I now doubt! And you never loved me, though you may think you did and still do. But it's not so; for no man who really loved a respectable girl could at the same time do what you did. Think of it! While pretending to love me, you were secretly trying to inveigle that poor ignorant girl away from home. You're not a man; you're a beast. The shame and disgust and humiliation I suffer at the thought of my position during that time, your effort to hoodwink both Mary Johnson and me, so fills me with anger I can't talk to you. Go, go! And please don't even speak to me hereafter, on the street or anywhere else."

Instead of departing the man grasped her wrist and gave her a venomous look.

"It was this sneak of an engineer, after all, who told you this lie and turned you against me," he snarled.

"Let me go. Mr. Weir said nothing. It was you yourself who betrayed yourself, or I should not have known as I do, thank heavens. Stop holding my wrist!"

For an instant Sorenson wavered between whether he should obey her command or strike her as his rage prompted. A very devil of pa.s.sion beating in his breast urged him to show her her place, deal with her as he would like to do and as she deserved--throw her down and drag her by the hair until she crawled forward and clasped his knees in subjection. But the look in her eyes cooled this half-insane, whiskey-inspired desire.

He took his hand off her wrist, picked up his hat.

"You can't throw me down this way," he sneered. "You're going to marry me just the same, whether you think so or not. I have a voice in this engagement, and you can't break your word and promise to me because it happens to strike your fancy. Not for a single minute!"

"If you were a gentleman and a decent man you wouldn't say that."

"I'm not either, by your judgment, so I do say it. I say it again: you're going to marry me, willingly or unwillingly. Now if after thinking it over, you want to forget all this and go on as before, all right. If not, our engagement still holds just the same. You may release me, but I haven't released you. Remember that. And keep away from that engineer if you know what's best for you!"

With a scowl he stalked out of the house, leaving a very angry, very tremulous and very heart-sick girl. The fellow was in truth not a man, she perceived, but a creature so conscienceless and loathsome that she seemed contaminated through and through by his touch, his words, and their previous relations. How grossly he had deceived her as to his real character! What a horrible future as his wife she had escaped!

Nor was she yet free, for he promised to make an infinity of trouble.

That day she could do nothing. Her father noting her face asked what was the trouble, and she told him the whole affair.

"I've heard rumors of late about him and was worried," he said. "You did the only thing, of course. Pay no attention to his words; I'll see he doesn't annoy you."

It was three or four days afterwards that she called Weir up at the dam in a desire to hear the voice of a man she knew to be straight and upright.

"I've wondered if a girl is allowed to look at your dam," she said on impulse, when they had chatted for a moment. "Father, who was at your camp to attend an injured man, says you're making famous progress."