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Updated: June 2, 2025
At the corner of the stable Sanderson halted and faced Owen. "You've got some explainin' to do," he said. "How did you know Dale had a letter from Will Bransford to his father; an' how did you know that Dale wanted me to write my name on that brand-registering blank so he could compare it with Will Bransford's name on the letter?"
Sanderson could not have told, however, just what motive had impelled him to decide to go to the Double A. No doubt the Drifter's story regarding the trouble that was soon to assail Mary Bransford had had its effect, but he preferred to think he had merely grown tired of life at the Pig-Pen Burrough's ranch and that the Drifter's story, coming at the instant when the yearning for a change had seized upon him, had decided him.
Miss Bransford would have been quite willing to have this young man escape punishment, but she could not deny that the cattle in question belonged to her. Sanderson was in doubt about the other young woman, though obviously she was closely related to him a wife, or sister perhaps a sweetheart. Sanderson studied the young man's face, comparing it with the big man's, and his lips stiffened.
For Williams told him that he had "gone the limit," which meant that every cent to Sanderson's credit in the Lazette bank had been pledged to pay for the material the engineer had ordered. "We're going to rush things from now on," Williams told Sanderson. "Next week we'll need ten thousand dollars, at least." Sanderson went into the house and had a long talk with Mary Bransford.
If you'll admit before a notary that you are not Will Bransford we'll hand you back the four thousand Dale took from you, give you ten thousand in addition and safe conduct out of the county. That strike you?" Sanderson did not answer. Silverthorn's face reddened. "You're a damned fool!" he sneered, venomously. "We'll keep you in jail here for a thousand years, if necessary. We'll do worse!
Square Deal, eh? And here you are, masqueradin' as Will Bransford! That's goin' to be quite an interestin' situation at the Double A when things get to goin', eh?" He laughed again, raucously, and turned his back to Sanderson, disappearing into the store. Sanderson glanced behind him. Several men were watching him, their faces set and determined.
I'm runnin' things here, but I ain't Bransford!" "I was reckonin' you wasn't," said Sanderson, mockingly. He now ignored the big man, and fixed his gaze on one of the women the one he felt must be Mary Bransford. He had found time, while talking with the big man, to look twice at the two women and he had discovered they were not women at all, but girls.
Her eyes were shining with an eloquent yearning that would have caused him to kill Dale if he had thought killing the man would have been the means of saving Ben Nyland. And then Mary Bransford was at his side, her hands grasping his, holding them tightly as her gaze sought his and held it. "Won't you please do something?" she pleaded. "Oh, if it only could be!
There is only one way to get at him, and that is in some way to get possession of the title." "That's tied up tighter than blazes," said Dale. "Record and all are clear. An' there ain't no judge we can get at. But if young Bransford hadn't come " "Yes," smiled Silverthorn. "It's too bad. We had a man, ready to come on at the word, to impersonate young Bransford.
He had already offended Mary Bransford more than he had a right to, and to destroy her brother's letter would be positively heinous. Besides, unknown to him, there might be more letters about with Will Bransford's signature on them, and it might be well to preserve this particular letter in case he should be called upon to forge Will Bransford's signature.
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