If any clues, advise immediately.  Willis digging hard.  Letter of instruction follows.

FARRISS.

There was no mention of names, yet these people could scarcely fail to recognise that this had reference to the Cavendish case.  Their fears would lead to this conclusion, and they could safely argue that nothing else would require the presence in Haskell of a New York newspaper writer.  Besides, if the man Enright had recognised her and knew of her connection with the Star, it was scarcely probable that he would be wholly unfamiliar with the name of Farriss, the city editor.  No, they would be on guard now, and she could hope to win no confidence.  The thought of personal danger never once entered her mind.  Timidity was not part of her nature and she gave this phase of the matter no thought.  All that seriously troubled her was the knowledge that she was handicapped in the case, unable to carry out the plans previously outlined.

From now on she would be watched, guarded against, deceived.  That these people—­Enright particularly—­were playing a desperate game for big stakes, was already evident.  They had not hesitated at murder to achieve their ends, and yet the girl somehow failed to comprehend that this discovery by them, that she was on their trail, placed her in personal peril.

There were two reasons causing indifference—­a carelessness engendered by long newspaper experience, and a feeling that the telegram told so little they would never realise how far the investigation had progressed.  All she could do then, would be to remain quiet, watch closely for results, and, if necessary, have some one else sent out from the home office to take up the work.  But meanwhile she must communicate with Westcott, tell him all that had occurred.  She would send him a note the first thing in the morning.

Somewhat reassured by this reasoning, she was still seated there, staring out into the night, when Enright and Beaton returned.  It must have been late, for the street was practically deserted, the saloons even being closed.  The hotel was silent, although a lamp yet burned in the office, the dull glow falling across the roadway in front of the door.  Stella heard the tread of horses’ feet, before her eyes distinguished the party approaching, and she drew back cautiously.  In the glow of the light she could perceive four men in saddle halted in front of the hotel, three of whom dismounted, and entered the building, the fourth grasping the reins of the riderless animals, and leading them up the street.  No word was spoken, except an order to the departing horseman, and the girl could not be certain of the identity of those below, although convinced the first two to disappear within were Enright and Beaton.  She heard the murmur of voices below and the heavy steps of the men as they came slowly up the stairs.  Then a door opened creakingly and she caught the sound of a woman’s voice.