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Updated: May 31, 2025
His eyes glittered malignantly as he caught a confident smile on Trevison's lips, and he bored in silently, swinging both hands. Trevison had been the cool boxer, carefully trying out his opponent. He had felt little emotion save that of self-protection. At the beginning of the fight he would have apologized to Corrigan with reservations. Now he was stirred with the lust of battle.
From there he had seen "Brand" Trevison ride into town, and because Trevison made an impressive figure he had watched him, instinctively aware that in the rider of the black horse was a quality of manhood that one meets rarely. Trevison's appearance had caused him a throb of disquieting envy. He had noticed Trevison's start upon getting his first glimpse of the private car on the siding.
He winced as he felt Trevison's burning gaze on him, and could not meet the young man's eyes, boring like metal points into his consciousness. Trevison sprang forward and seized him by the shoulders. "By God you know it isn't the original!"
The big man seemed to have been expecting his visitor, for just before the latter appeared at the door Corrigan took a pistol from a pocket and laid it on the desk beside him, placing a sheet of paper over it. He swung slowly around and faced Trevison, cold interest in his gaze. He nodded shortly as Trevison's eyes met his. In a dozen long strides Trevison was at his side.
When a thing like that happens there's always somebody around to see it, and if I can get evidence against you I'll send you up for it!" He noted a slight quickening of Trevison's eyes at his mention of a witness, and a fierce exultation leaped within him. Trevison laughed, looking the other fairly between the eyes. Rosalind Benham hadn't informed on him. However, the day was not yet gone.
Manti, rudely awakened, was pouring its population through its doors in streams. Shouts, hoarse, inquisitive, drifted to Trevison's ears. Lights blazed up, flickering from windows like giant fireflies. Doors slammed, dogs were barking, men were running. Trevison laughed vibrantly as he ran.
He saw the trigger finger contracting; saw Trevison's free hand clenched, the muscles corded and knotted he felt the breathless, strained, unreal calm that precedes tragedy, grim and swift. He slowly stiffened, but did not shrink an inch. It took him seconds to raise his gaze to Trevison's face, and then he caught his breath quickly and smiled with straight lips.
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?"
"It may seem odd to you if you know anything of the manner of my breaking off with Trevison Brandon but he wrote me about a month ago, asking me to come out here. I didn't accept the invitation at once because I didn't want him to be too sure, you know, dearie. Men are always presuming and pursuing, dearie." "Then you didn't hear of Trevison's whereabouts from Ruth Gresham?" "Why, no, dearie!
"Trevison's my friend," grinned Levins coldly as he got to his feet. "There's nothin' doin' there understand? Get it out of your brain-box, for if anything happens to 'Firebrand, I'll perforate you sure as hell!" He stalked out of the office, leaving Corrigan looking after him, frowningly.
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