got away with it, too! How did you get word to him?"
The girl stiffened; her chin went up defiantly. Then she laughed tantalizingly, for she saw in Compton's eyes the suspicion that lay naked in them.
"So you know, eh?" she laughed, her white teeth flashing. "Well, if you know, why should you come to me? Get out of here — I hate you!"
"Sore, eh?" grinned Compton. He was flattered by this exhibition of temper; it showed that she had cared more for him than he had thought. "Well," he went on. "a man gets tired — just as I tired of you. So you told him, eh?"
It was plain to the girl that Compton meditated violence; she saw that in his eyes now, where, an instant before, she had seen only rage. Her face whitened a little as she stepped toward the dresser, where she kept a pistol of small caliber.
Compton saw the gleam of fear in her eyes and the swift pallor that came into her cheeks. And before she could reach the dresser he leaped at her, gripping her hands with a ruthless strength that made her whimper with pain.
He held her close to him, holding both her hands in one of his, while with the free hand he seized the back of her neck, the fingers biting deeply into the flesh. She cringed from the malignant fury of his eyes and opened her lips to scream.
"Scream, damn you!" he sneered. "You tell me how you warned Rand or I'll choke the life out of you!"
Awed by the blazing eyes of the man, unable to endure the terrible pain at the back of her neck, the girl answered f renziedly:
" I rode to him that night — the night I heard you and Kinney and Webster plotting to kill him. I was behind the partition. Don't squeeze so hard, Link; you are hurting me!"
But the man's eyes were still aflame with fury, and his fingers sank deeper into her flesh. And he laughed, lowly and harshly.
"Was it because you hate me, or because you love him? Answer straight, or I'll break your neck!"
"I love him," answered the woman.
Compton laughed full-throatedly, a bitter, mirthless laugh that made the woman shiver.
"You love him, eh!" He looked at her as though about to taunt her regarding the passion to which she had confessed; then his grip tightened and his eyes grew subtle and cunning.
"Two or three times while we were on good terms, you hinted that you knew the father of that kid of Rand's. I'm wanting to know — I'm going to know, right now!"
He released her hands and slipped both his own to her throat, and despite the wild appeal in her eyes, and the staring horror in them, he pressed his thumbs into the flesh until she cried out chokingly:
"Don't; I'll tell!"
"Is it Rand?" he whispered hoarsely.
She shook her head negatively.
"Who, then?"
"Amos Seddon," she whispered gaspingly. Then she reeled backward and staggered to a chair, into which she fell, both hands at her throat; while Compton, with wide, incredulous gaze, watched her.
"You lying?" he said, stepping toward her and standing over her threateningly.
Again she made a negative motion with her head, and Compton backed away, laughing derisively.
"The old son-of-a-gun!" he said. He again approached the girl, grinning down at her hugely.
"So that's the reason Seddon doesn't like Rand, eh? Rand knows, does he?" he asked the girl.
The girl nodded affirmatively.
For a time Compton stood and watched her, a gleam of malicious cunning in his smiling eyes.
Yesterday, in the rear room downstairs, when Rand had entered while Kinney's injured hand was being cared for, Compton had caught the glances exchanged by Rand and Lucia Morell. And during the time that Rand had been in the room, Compton had observed the admiration and applause in the girl's eyes.
But it had not been until he had been riding toward town earlier in the day that he had thought to associate the girl with the incident of the shooting. And then, remembering her glance at Rand, he had decided it had been she who had warned Rand.
He had entered her room, determined to inflict physical punishment upon her; but the revelation of Seddon's secret, and the discovery that the girl was in love with Rand, offered possibilities that would be more satisfying than physical punishment inflicted upon the girl who cringed in the chair near him.
He laughed, lowly and placatively, as he watched Lucia; and when he walked toward her and stood looking down at her, the passion had gone out of his eyes.
"I didn't intend to hurt you, Lucia." He drew a chair near her and seated himself on its edge. "You see, I lost my temper. I didn't know you loved Rand; I thought you had warned him because you hated me."
Disregarding the resentful fury of the girl's eyes, he resumed, smiling smoothly.
"I know you'd like to murder me, but I won't let you. Let's talk sense and face the facts. You love Rand, and with a woman of your type, to love a man is to try to get him. Has it ever occurred to you that Rand is a handsome devil, and that there might be another woman, besides yourself, who wants him?"
He regarded her keenly, and his lips curved with a smile of satisfaction when he saw her start and stiffen.
He knew the woman's nature; he was aware of the passionate impulses that ruled her; and he saw the wanton gleam in her eyes as she returned his gaze.
She was thinking of Rand; of his manner on the night she had warned him of the plot to kill him; of how he had held her off, refusing her advances. She had thought, then, that there might be another woman, but she could think of no one in Ocate who might be a possible rival. For Rand, until now, had not been interested in women— of her type, at least.
And so, despite her resentment for the big, smiling, ruthless man, she could not hide her curiosity and interest.
"Who is she?" she demanded, her dark eyes glowing with sudden passion.
"That's better," mocked Compton. "The thought that there might be another woman is intolerable, isn't it?"
"Bah!" she scoffed; "don't try to be humorous, Link; it doesn't become you. Especially at this minute, when you've choked me, and you are insanely jealous of Rand. Ha, ha!" she laughed when she saw Compton's face turn crimson and noted the leaping fire in his eyes. "The thought that there might be another man is intolerable, too, eh?"
He cursed, and sat looking at her vindictively; and the woman, watching him with implacable, hating gaze, smiled sneeringly, wisdom in her eyes.
"Everybody knows you hate Rand, and everybody knows Rand hates you. That's notorious. And everybody knows that if both of you stay in this country long enough, your hatred for each other will end in a killing. It would have ended that way before now, if Rand was as bloodthirsty as you. And it's coming now; any fool can see that. And you are hurrying it. And I know why. It's because you and Rand love the same woman. Who is she, Link?" she taunted, watching him with level gaze.
"It's Eleanor Seddon!" snapped Compton, his eyes gleaming
