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She noticed him though, when the black, forced to her side of the street through the necessity of executing a turn, passed close to the easterner. And then, with something of a shock, she saw Corrigan smiling derisively. At the sound of applause from the group on the opposite side of the street, Corrigan's derision became a sneer. Miss Benham felt resentment; a slight color stained her cheeks.
But he exercised repression that made the atmosphere of the room tingle with tension of the sort that precedes the clash of mighty forces he deliberately sat on one corner of Corrigan's desk, one leg dangling, the other resting on the floor, one hand resting on the idle leg, his body bent, his shoulders drooping a little forward.
An' the bank? An' killed Braman? Well, you got to admit that's a pretty good night's work. An' you're wantin' him!" Barkwell's voice leaped; he spoke in short, snappy, metallic sentences that betrayed passion long restrained, breaking his self-control. "You're deputies, eh? Corrigan's whelps! Sneaks! Coyotes! Well, you slope you hear? When I count three, I down you! One! Two! Three!"
It had aroused cold, wanton passions in her she had become a woman who did not care. She met Corrigan's gaze with a look of defiant mockery. "Swell. I enjoyed every minute of it. Won't you sit down?" He held himself back, grinning coldly, for the woman's look had goaded him to fury. "No," he said; "I'll stand. I won't be here a minute. You saw Trevison last night, eh?
Neither judicial dignity or resolutions of independence could resist the threatened danger of further violence that shone from Corrigan's eyes, and the Judge whispered gaspingly: "Trevison." "I thought so! Now, be careful how you answer this. What did Trevison want in the courthouse?" "The original record of the land transfers." "Did he get it?"
Send out a messenger for him, and be quick, for I wont rest till I see him he wants comfort the old man's heart will break." "I heard them say," replied the turnkey, after they had entered the cell allotted to him, "that he was in a faint at Mat Corrigan's public house, but that he had recovered. I'll go myself and bring him in to you." "Do," said Connor, "an' leave us the moment you bring him."
Yes, he had found "Brand" Trevison a worthy antagonist Braman had him appraised correctly. Corrigan's smile was bitter as he again walked into the rear room and surveyed his reflection in the glass. Disgusted, he turned to one of the windows and looked out.
The Judge felt Corrigan's fingers at his throat, and gasped with horror, throwing up his hands to ward them off, failed, and heard Corrigan's laugh as the fingers gripped his throat and held. When the Judge came to, it was with an excruciatingly painful struggle that left him shrinking and nerveless, lying in a corner, blinking at the light of a kerosene lamp.
The day was now more than half gone, and no difference was between them, when, to the surprise and sorrow of every one present, Biddy Corrigan's heck broke in two, and so to all appearance ended the contest in favour of her rival; and what added to her mortification, she was as ignorant of the red little woman's name as ever. What was to be done? All that could be done was done.
By defeating Corrigan's aim she would, of course, be aiding Trevison, and through him Hester Harvey, whom she had grown to despise, but that hatred should not deter her. She mounted her horse in a fever of anxiety and raced it over the plains toward Manti, determined to find Corrigan and force him to tell her the truth.
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