Inside the office he lighted a lamp and seated himself at his desk.  There, with a pair of shears and a piece of black cloth, he fashioned a mask.  He donned the mask and peered at himself in a mirror, grinning with satisfaction over the reflection.  Had he not known himself for Alva Dale he would have been fooled by the covering.

Working swiftly, he changed his clothes.  Then, after again looking at his reflection, he put out the light, stepped outside, locked the door, and mounted his horse.

Riding a ridge above a shallow arroyo he came upon a little level near a grove of cottonwood trees.  He circled one side of the grove, and in a clearing he saw the Nyland cabin.

He had visited the cabin before, but never had he felt about it as he felt at this moment.  There had always been the presence of Ben Nyland to dampen the romantic thoughts that had beset him—­for there had been a time when—­if Peggy Nyland had been willing—­he would have married her.

That time had passed.  Dale grinned wickedly as he dismounted and walked forward.

There was no light showing in any of the windows, and Dale stepped stealthily to the rear door and knocked.

There was no answer; and Dale repeated the blows.  Then he grinned With delight as he heard Peggy’s voice, high-pitched and startled, saying: 

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me—­Sanderson,” he returned.  “I’ve come for you!”

“What for?” This time there was alarm in the girl’s voice, and Dale heard her walk across the floor and halt at the door.  He mentally visualized her, standing there, one ear against the panel.

“Didn’t they tell you?” he said in a hoarse voice, into which he succeeded in getting much pretended anger.  “Why, I sent a man over here with word.”

“Word about what?”

Dale heard the girl fumbling at the fastenings of the door, and he knew that his imitation of Sanderson’s voice had deceived her.

“Word that Ben was hurt,” he lied.  “The east train hit him as it was pullin’ in.  He’s bad off, but the doc says he’ll come around if he gets good nursin’, an’ that’s why I’ve come——­”

While he was talking the door burst open and Peggy appeared in the opening, her eyes wide with concern and eagerness.

She had heard Dale’s first knock on the door, and knowing it was someone for her—­perhaps Ben returning—­she had begun to dress, finishing—­except for her shoes and stockings—­by the time she opened the door.

In the dim light she did not at first see the mask on Dale’s face, and she was insistently demanding to be told just where Ben’s injuries were, when she detected the fraud.

Then she gasped and stepped back, trying to close the door.  She would have succeeded had not Dale thrust a foot into the aperture.

She stamped at his foot with her bare one ineffectually.  Dale laughed at her futile efforts to keep him from opening the door.  He struck an arm through the aperture, leaned his weight against the door, and pushed it open.