Sanderson went up.  A sign on a glass door bore Silverthorn’s name.  Sanderson entered without knocking.

Silverthorn was seated at a desk in a far corner of the room.  He looked up as Sanderson opened the door, and said shortly: 

“Well—­what is it?”

Sanderson crossed the room and halted beside the desk.  For an instant neither man spoke.  Sanderson saw a man of medium height with a rather well-rounded stomach, sloping shoulders, and a sleek, well-fed appearance.  His cheeks were full and florid, his lips large and loose; his eyes cold, calculating, and hard.

Silverthorn saw a lean-faced, broad-shouldered young man with a strong chin, a firm mouth, and an eye that fixed him with a steady, unwavering interest.

By the gleam in Sanderson’s eyes Silverthorn divined that he was in the presence of a strong, opposing force, and he drew a slow, deep breath.

“Well?” he said, again.

“You’re Dave Silverthorn?”

The other nodded.  “What can I do for you?” he questioned.

“You can listen while I talk,” said Sanderson.

“I’m Will Bransford, of the Double A. I have heard from several sources that you an’ Alva Dale are after the title to the Double A. You want the water-rights.  You can’t have them.  An’ the title to the Double A stays with me.  Understand that?  I am goin’ to hold on to the property.

“I’ve heard you can juggle the law—­that’s your business.  But you can’t juggle the law enough to horn in on the Double A. If you do, I’m comin’ for you with a law of my own!” He tapped his gun bolster significantly.

“That’s all,” he concluded.  “Are you sure you understand?”

“Perfectly,” answered Silverthorn.  He was smiling mirthlessly, his face blotched and bloated with mingled fear and rage.  “But I’ll have you understand this:  I am not afraid of your threats.  You can’t bully me.  The S. and M. Railroad has dealt with your kind on more than one occasion.  There is an opportunity here to develop a large section of land, and my company means to do it.  We mean to be fair, however.  We’ll buy your title to the Double A. How much do you want for it?”

Sanderson grinned.  “The Double A is not for sale.  I wouldn’t sell it to you for a million!  You cheap crooks think that all you have to do is to take anything you want.  I just stopped in to tell you that I’m wise to your game, an’ that the kind of law I represent ain’t cluttered up with angles an’ technical processes.  She runs straight to a square deal all around.  That’s all, Mr. Silverthorn.”

He turned and went out, closing the door behind him.

He had not intended to have his talk with Tom Maison, Okar’s banker, until the following morning.  But upon returning to Okar’s street he saw Maison ahead of him on the sidewalk.  He followed the banker, saw him enter the front door of the bank building, and a few minutes later he was sitting opposite Maison at a table in the banker’s private room.