“So much for that,” resumed Anderson.  “I’m goin’ to do my best.  An’ I may make blunders.  I’ll play the game as it’s dealt out to me.  Lord knows I feel all in the dark.  But it’s the nature of the effort, the spirit, that’ll count.  I’m goin’ to save most of the wheat on my ranches.  An’ bein’ a Westerner who can see ahead, I know there’s goin’ to be blood spilled....  I’d give a lot to know who sent this Nash spyin’ on me.  I’m satisfied now he’s an agent, a spy, a plotter for a gang that’s marked me.  I can’t prove it yet, but I feel it.  Maybe nothin’ worth while—­worth the trouble—­will ever be found out from him.  But I don’t figure that way.  I say play their own game an’ take a chance....  If you encouraged Nash you’d probably find out all about him.  The worst of it is could you be slick enough?  Could a girl as fine an’ square an’ high-spirited as you ever double-cross a man, even a scoundrel like Nash?  I reckon you could, considerin’ the motive.  Women are wonderful....  Well, if you can fool him, make him think he’s a winner, flatter him till he swells up like a toad, promise to elope with him, be curious, jealous, make him tell where he goes, whom he meets, show his letters, all without ever sufferin’ his hand on you, I’ll give my consent.  I’d think more of you for it.  Now the question is, can you do it?”

“Yes,” whispered Lenore.

“Good!” exploded Anderson, in a great relief.  Then he began to mop his wet face.  He arose, showing the weight of heavy guns in his pockets, and he gazed across the wheat-fields.  “That wheat’ll be ripe in a week.  It sure looks fine....  Lenore, you ride back home now.  Don’t let Jake pump you.  He’s powerful curious.  An’ I’ll go give these I.W.W.’s a first dose of Anderson.”

He turned away without looking at her, and he hesitated, bending over to pluck a stem of goldenrod.

“Lass—­you’re—­you’re like your mother”, he said, unsteadily.  “An’ she helped me win out durin’ my struggle here.  You’re brave an’ you’re big.”

Lenore wanted to say something, to show her feeling, to make her task seem lighter, but she could not speak.

“We’re pards now—­with no secrets”, he continued, with a different note in his voice.  “An’ I want you to know that it ain’t likely Nash or Glidden will get out of this country alive.”

CHAPTER VII

Three days later, Lenore accompanied her father on the ride to the Bend country.  She sat in the back seat of the car with Jake—­an arrangement very gratifying to the cowboy, but received with ill-concealed displeasure by the driver, Nash.  They had arranged to start at sunrise, and it became manifest that Nash had expected Lenore to sit beside him all during the long ride.  It was her father, however, who took the front seat, and behind Nash’s back he had slyly winked at Lenore, as if to compliment her on the evident success of their deep plot.  Lenore, at the first opportunity that presented, shot Nash a warning glance which was sincere enough.  Jake had begun to use keen eyes, and there was no telling what he might do.