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Updated: June 11, 2025
She's very clever, Trevison; she's deep, and more than a match for you in wits. Fight, if you like, you'll get no sympathy there." Trevison's faith in Miss Benham had received a shock; Corrigan's words had not killed it, however. "You're a liar!" he said. Corrigan flushed, but smiled icily. "How many people know that you have coal on your land, Trevison?"
He tapped his rifle menacingly, betraying a quick accession of rage that he caught, no doubt, from Corrigan. Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little. For an instant he meditated resistance, and dropped his right hand to the butt of his pistol. A shout distracted his attention.
"You know what I mean, of course. Take Manti, for instance. Or any new western town. The lowest elements of society are represented; most of the people are very ignorant and criminal." The girl looked sharply at Corrigan, though he was not aware of the glance. Was there a secret understanding between Corrigan and Agatha?
But he still grinned mockingly at his enemy as the latter followed him, tensed, eager, snarling. He evaded other blows that would have finished him through instinct, it seemed to Corrigan; and though there was little strength left in him he kept working his right fist through Corrigan's guard and into his face, pecking away at it until it seemed to be cut to ribbons.
I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you were in the game to rob him of his land. Oh, I blackened you, dearie! It hurt him, too. For when a man like Trevison loves a woman " "How could you!" said the girl, shuddering. "Please don't get dramatic," jeered the other. "The rules that govern the love game are very elastic for some women.
He would be the only man to near match you. 'A quiet draught o' old ale is a good thing, says you, and by the piper 'tis hard to say Father Corrigan could have done it that handily. 'Tis you that are a wonderful man." "I have a small way o' my own," said Strammers, "which even some of the best gardeners has accounted most wise and humorous. The power o' good speech be a great gift."
His voice leaped from its repression; it now betrayed the passion that was consuming him; it came through his teeth: "You can't hand me that sort of a raw deal, Corrigan, and make me like it. Understand that, right now. You're bucking the wrong man.
Needless to say, your signature was forged. But I did so good a job that Corrigan will not suspect. Corrigan will get the letter by tonight. It says that you are going to take a long rest." The Judge gasped and looked quickly at Trevison. The young man's face was wreathed in a significant grin. "In the first analysis, this looks like a rather strange proceeding," said Trevison.
Is it logical to suppose that he would lend his influence and his good name to any such ridiculous scheme?" She sighed, almost convinced. Corrigan went on, earnestly: "This man Trevison is a disturber he has always been that. He has no respect for the law or property. He associates with the self-confessed murderer, Levins.
But then, a man told his questioner, Corrigan claimed Trevison had choked the banker to death. He could believe both claims, or neither. So far as the man himself was concerned, he was not going to commit himself. But if Trevison had done the job, he'd done it well. The seekers after information rode out of Manti on the run.
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