It was just a little extraordinary, too, that memory should have selected this particular day in preference to the preceding one. The first of the two should undoubtedly have been the more significant, for it partook of a nature which appealed directly to those innermost hopes and yearnings of a youthful heart. Surely, before all things in life, Nature claims to itself the passionate yearning of the sexes as paramount. Gordon had fought for the woman he loved, and basked in her smiles of approval at his victory. Was not this sufficient to make it a day of days? The psychological fact remained, the indelible memory of the next day was planted on the mysterious photographic plates of his mental camera in preference.

It was a day of wild excitement. It was a day of hopes raised to a fevered pitch, and then hurled headlong to a bottomless abyss of despair. It was a day of passionate feeling and bitter memories. A day of hopeless looking forward and of depression. Then, as a last and final twist of the whirligig of emotion, it resolved itself into one great burst of enthusiasm and hope.

It started in at the earliest hour. Hip-Lee was preparing breakfast, and Gordon was still dressing. A note was brought from Peter McSwain.

Gordon opened it, and the first emotions of an eventful day began to take definite shape.

The note informed him that McSwain had been faithful to his promise.

He, assisted by Mike Callahan of the livery barn, had worked strenuously. The results had been splendid amongst all the principal landholders in Snake's Fall and Buffalo Point. Prices this morning were "skied" prohibitively.

The holders saw their advantage. Even if the railroad bought in Snake's Fall they would be "on velvet." They agreed that it was the first sound move made. They agreed that it was good to "jolly" a railroad. The men who did not hold in Buffalo only held insignificant property in Snake's Fall, which would be useless to the railroad. But should the railroad buy there, even these would be benefited.

Gordon began to feel that palpitating excitement in the stomach indicative of a disturbed nervous system. Things were stirring. He examined the situation from the view point of yesterday's encounter.

With these people working in with him, the future certainty began to look brighter than when he had retired to bed over-night.

Mallinsbee came along after breakfast, and Gordon showed him McSwain's message.

The rancher read it over twice. Then his opinion came in deep, rumbling notes.

"That's sure what you needed," he said, with a shrewd, twinkling smile.

"But I don't guess the shoutin's begun."

"No?"

Gordon eyed him uneasily. He had felt rather pleased.

"We can't shout till Slosson talks," the rancher went on. "That talk of Peter's is still only our side of the play."

"Yes."

Gordon was at his desk.

Then a diversion was created by the advent of a fat stranger with a large expanse of highly colored waistcoat, and a watchguard to match.

He wanted to talk "sites," and spent half an hour doing so. When he had gone Mallinsbee offered an explanation which had passed Gordon's inexperience by.

"That feller's worried," he observed. "He's got wind there's something doing, and is scared to death the speculators are to be shut out. He's going back to report to the boys. Maybe we'll hear from Peter again--later. I wonder what Slosson's thinking?"

Gordon smiled.

"I doubt if he can think yet," he said. "I allow he was upset yesterday. I'd give a dollar to see him when he starts to try and buy."

"You're feeling sure."

Mallinsbee's doubt was pretty evident.

"Sure? I'm sure of nothing about Slosson except his particular dislike of me, and, through me, of you."

"Just so. And when a man hates the way he hates you, if he's bright he'll try to make things hum."

"He's bright all right," allowed Gordon.

A further diversion was created. Two men arrived in a buckboard, and Mallinsbee's explanation was verified. They were looking for information. It was said the railroad was to boycott Buffalo Point.

It was said, even, that they had bought in Snake's Fall. Was this so?

And, anyway, what was the meaning of the rise in prices at that end?

"Why, say," finished up one of the men, "when I was talking to Mason, the dry goods man, this morning, he told me there wasn't a speculator around who'd money enough to buy his spare holdings in Snake's. And when I asked him the figger he said he needed ten thousand dollars for two side street plots and twenty thousand for two avenue fronts. He's crazy, sure."

Mallinsbee shook his head.

"Not crazy. Just bright."

When the man had departed, and Mallinsbee had removed the patch from his eye, he smiled over at Gordon.

"Peter's surely done his work," he said.

Gordon warmed with enthusiasm. If those were the prices ruling Mr.

Slosson would have no option but to be squeezed between the two interests. Whatever his personal feelings, he must make good with his company. No agent, unless he were quite crazy, would dare face such prices for his principals.

"I don't see that Slosson's a leg to stand on," he cried, his enthusiasm bubbling. "We've just got to sit around and wait."

Mallinsbee agreed.

"Sure. Sit around and wait," he said, with that baffling smile of his.

Gordon shrugged, and bent over some figures he had been working on.

Presently he looked up.

"How's Miss Hazel this morning?" he inquired casually. He had wanted to speak of her before, but the memory of her father's anger yesterday had restrained him. Now he felt he was safe.

"Just sore over things," said the old man, with a sobering of the eyes.

"I talked to her some last night. She guesses she owes you a heap, but it ain't nothing to what I owe you."

Gordon flushed. Then he laughed and shook his head.

"No man or woman owes me a thing who gives me the chance of a scrap,"

he said.

The old man smiled.

"No," he agreed. "With a name like 'Van Henslaer'--you ain't Irish?"

"Descendant of the old early Dutch."

"Ah. They were scrappers, too."

Gordon nodded and went on with his figures. So the morning passed. It was a waiting for developments which both men knew would not long be delayed. Mallinsbee was unemotional, but Gordon was all on wires drawn to great tension. The subtle warnings from Mallinsbee not to be too optimistic had left him in a state of doubt. And an impatience took hold of him which he found hard to restrain.

The two men shared their midday meal. Mallinsbee wanted to get back to the ranch, but neither felt such a course to be policy yet. Besides, now that the crisis had arrived, Gordon was anxious to have his superior's approval for his next move. He had taken a chance yesterday. Now he wanted to make no mistake.