She held his gaze unflinchingly.  “Mr. Lawler,” she said; “those men had no orders to kill you—­they attempted that because you captured them, I suppose.  And I did not, last night, attempt to defend Gary Warden’s action in sending them here.  In fact—­if you remember—­I came over here purposely to defeat them.”

“But if there was no scheme to control cattle there would have been no incentive to cut my fence,” he said, impatiently.

“Perhaps some other persons would have cut it,” she answered; “criminals are everywhere.  Please don’t preach to me, Mr. Lawler,” she added, pleadingly.  “I—­I think you ought to be glad that I came—­aren’t you?”

He smiled grimly.  “Well, I am not going to turn you out into the storm.”

Getting out some cooking utensils he began to prepare breakfast.  She watched him for an instant, and then went to the north window, rubbed a hole through the frost and tried to look out.  She could not see more than a few inches into the white blur that roared against the glass, and so she turned, sought a chair near the table, and resumed watching Lawler.  And her eyes filled with a warm light as they followed his movements—­noting that he seemed handsomer now than he had appeared when she had met him that day at the foot of the stairs.  And she smiled at his back, exulting in the continued fury of the storm.  For it meant that she would be alone with him for days—­many, perhaps.  And she told herself that she loved Lawler; that she had loved him since the day she had encountered him at the foot of the stairs leading to Warden’s office.  He was wealthy, handsome; and in her code of morals it was no crime to take advantage of every opportunity that chance presented.  And chance——­

Here Gary Warden’s face flashed in her mental vision.  And she smiled.  For Warden had never thrilled her as this man had thrilled her.  Warden was cold, coarse, gross.  This man was vibrant with life, with energy—­there was fire in him.  And it had been Warden’s scheming that had sent her to Lawler.  She laughed and snuggled contentedly down in the chair.

CHAPTER XXII

THE WHITE WASTE

Warden and Singleton had been in Willets on the day the storm broke.  They had ridden into town early, and when they saw the low-flying clouds sweeping down from the north Singleton grinned maliciously, with a significance that Warden could not mistake.

“Warden, it’s goin’ to storm,” he said.

Warden glanced at the other, understandingly.

“Looks a whole lot like it, Singleton.  And we can be more comfortable at the Two Diamond than in town.”

“Right,” grinned Singleton.  “An’ we’d better hit the breeze right now, for she’s comin’ fast.”

As they mounted their horses in front of the building that contained Warden’s office, the latter looked sharply at Singleton.

“Givens and Link ought to be busy by now.  You say your men reported that the Circle L men stocked Number One line camp yesterday?”