"It's some proposition," mused Gordon.

"It surely is. There's ways." Mallinsbee laughed shortly. "Maybe I'll hand him over to Hazel." Then he gave another short laugh.

"Guess the ranch 'll interest him some--too."

Gordon's eyes lit apprehensively.

"I wouldn't do that," he said almost sharply.

Mallinsbee faced about.

"Why not? Hazel's a bright girl. She's as wise as any two men. A crook don't worry her a thing."

"I guess all that's right enough. But--she's a girl, and--I don't seem to feel it's fair to her."

Mallinsbee remained silent for some moments. Gordon watched the broad back of the great, lolling figure in the doorway with an alarm he would not have displayed had he been facing him. Then the sound of clattering hoofs outside broke up the silence and the old man turned.

"Here she is," he cried, with a shadowy smile. "Guess she can speak for herself."

Gordon could have cursed the luck that had brought the girl there at that moment. He understood the depth of her devotion to her father and his enterprise. Nothing could have been less opportune.

But, in a moment, his annoyance became lost in his delight at the sound of her cheery greeting.

"Hello, Daddy," he heard her call out.

Gordon remained where he was, waiting to feast his eyes upon the fresh beauty of this girl, who occupied so large a portion of his thoughts.

Her father stood aside to allow her to pass in, and Gordon had his reward in her radiant smile.

"How's our junior partner?" she cried gayly.

"Feeling just about ready to turn the office into a twelve-foot ring and--hurt somebody," the junior partner retorted quickly.

Hazel pulled a long face.

"Is it that way?" she demanded, and turned back to her father. Then she added playfully: "What's ruffled the atmosphere of our--dovecote?"

The old man began to chuckle.

"Dovecote?" he said. "Guess armed fortress comes nearer describing this lay out. Anyway the temper of its occupants," he added, his twinkling eyes on the determined features of his protege. "Guess I'll get goin' out to the ranch while you two scrap things out. Seems to me I need to get the cobwebs of David Slosson out of my head."

He took his departure without haste, but with the obvious intention of avoiding any further discussion of David Slosson for the present. And Gordon was not sorry for his going. He felt that at all costs his suggestion that Hazel should take her place in the ring with this man Slosson was not to be thought of.

But he was reckoning without Hazel herself. He was calculating with all a man's--a young man's--assurance that this girl would regard his opinions in the light he regarded them himself.

Hazel sat herself upon the edge of his desk, and flicked the rawhide quirt against the leg of her top boot. Her prairie hat was thrust back from her forehead, and her pretty tanned face was turned in a smiling inquiry upon Gordon.

"What is it?" she asked, with that new alertness the man had come to regard as a part of her nature, second only to her delightful camaraderie.

He smiled back into her merry eyes.

"I'm wondering why two men bent on a joint purpose can't see the same thing in the same light."

"Which means you and my daddy have already started an argument which I'll have to settle."

Gordon laughed.

"Guess you'll settle it, though--there's no need."

"Why not? If you can't agree?"

"We do agree."

"Then where's the argument?"

"There isn't one."

Hazel began to laugh.

"Why did you say there was?"

"I didn't. It was you who said that."

Hazel's smile had died away.

"It's Slosson, of course," she said decidedly. And Gordon began to wish she were not so clearsighted, nor so direct in her challenges.

"Oh, he's a constant thorn," he said evasively.

"Has he been here to-day?"

Gordon nodded.

"And the result?"

"Your father is--obdurate. Says he won't submit to blackmail."

"Has Slosson abated his terms?"

"I don't think so."

Hazel rose quickly from her seat on the desk. She walked slowly across the room and propped herself in the doorway, in precisely the same position as her father had occupied. Gordon's eyes watched her every movement. He knew she was considering deeply, and intuition warned him that the result of her consideration might easily conflict with that which he had in his mind. But he was not prepared for the announcement which came a moment later.

She came back to the desk quickly, and took up her old place on it.

Her pretty lips were firmly set, and she gazed soberly and unflinchingly down into Gordon's apprehensive blue eyes.

"I shall have to deal with David Slosson," she said quietly. Then, with a light, expressive shrug: "It won't be pleasant--not by quite a lot. But--it's got to be done, and done quickly. Father won't give way, so--he must."

But, in a moment, Gordon's protest came with all the enthusiasm of his impulsive nature. To think of this beautiful child having to defile herself by cajoling a creature like this Slosson moved him to a pitch of distraction. Whatever else he did not know, he knew the meaning of expression when men gaze at women. And he had not forgotten his first morning in Snake's Fall.