looked at Gillette; the two of them exchanged faint smiles. "It won't do us any good to squeal, Lorena. We can't squeal loud enough. We've got to battle it out the best we can."
"It isn't right," she insisted. "I'm going outside a little while."
She hurried away from the cabin and toward Deadwood again, just a little anxious lest Gillette should divine her intention and call her back. The truth was, Lorena believed implicitly in the honesty and the pervading powerfulness of the law. She had none of a man's cynicism concerning it, and whenever she saw those two symbolic letters—U. S.—she had a picture of solemn men sitting in a row, covered by black robes and with a flag hanging above them. She knew state law could be evaded; her own father had done it. But a national law was something different, and it seemed incredible that any corporation could openly steal government land and not be prosecuted.
"It's just that nobody knows," she told herself. "If I can only see..."
She reached town and went quickly to the hotel. The lobby was crowded with men, reeking with tobacco smoke. Senator Costaine sat in a chair at a far corner, listening to some sort of a delegation. Lorena drew her nether lip between her teeth and mustered her courage. What would all these men think of her for breaking in—what would the Senator say to her for the interruption? She almost lost heart as she watched the man. He looked so grim and inaccessible, be represented something so great. And, after all, she was but a girl. Then she thought of Tom Gillette, and she squared her small shoulders and slipped through the crowd.
The Senator saw her standing in front of him. Being a man of courtesy, he rose, interrupting a flood of talk with a motion of his arm. For Lorena with her piquant features and her black eyes made a striking picture—even more striking at the moment because of a certain nervous snapping of those eyes. She made a pleasant distraction. The Senator, as a matter of literal fact, was tired of the smoke and the heavy jests and the dingdong of figures and facts and the representations and the pleadings. All this was an old story. It never varied. He smiled at the girl, whereat his features became almost pleasant.
"Senator Costaine," said the girl, conscious of a hundred eyes watching her, "I—I would like a word with you."
"Certainly," agreed the Senator. He took her by the arm and moved away to a more secluded angle of the room. "You must not be flustered by men in the mass," he reassured her. "They have no more power to hurt you than singly."
"But they have," said Lorena, turning. "That's why I've come to see you. Senator, could you spare an hour and walk a half mile up the hillside to see a man?"
"My dear lady, if I tried to escape from these gentlemen my life would be worth nothing. Perhaps if you could state, more or less briefly, what the occasion was..."
"I know you are very busy," she apologized. "But there is a man up the slope just recovering from an attempt made on his life. He isn't able to come here, and even if he were able, I don't believe he would. I do this on my own responsibility. He has a ranch over near Nelson. Several Texans migrated there this year. All were bought out by a certain corporation, except Tom—except this man. He refused to bargain. The corporation has tried to run him away, they have tried to rustle his stock. And now they are tampering with his water right through the local land office. Senator Costaine, why doesn't the government stop such things?"
The question brought a remote smile to his fighter's face. "If I could answer that question I would be a great man. The government is composed of human beings, and it is human to err."
An immaculately dressed young man drew near the Senator, speaking urgently. "You've only a half hour for lunch, Senator. We are due to ride into the hills directly after."
"Yes—yes," muttered the Senator. He looked to the girl. "As to this gentleman's affairs, that is a matter for court action. If there is fraud—provable fraud—then I'm sure it will be taken care of."
She saw he was about to slip away. "Can you always prove the unjust things that happen? You know you can't."
"True. But how can you expect the United States government to do much better? I should like to help you, but I'm certain I couldn't do much good. It's a matter for the district attorney over there. And now, if you'll excuse me..."
"Senator, do you know of the P.R.N. Land Company?"
His attention had wandered; at the question it came back to her and his steel-coloured eyes seemed to narrow and focus. It was as if a powerful light flashed on her face. What little pleasantry his features held up until then vanished. "Was that corporation involved?" he asked sharply.
"Yes."
"I shall be extremely interested in meeting your man," he said, and motioned to the immaculate secretary hovering anxiously at hand. "Nicholas, I'm going out for an hour. No—no. I don't give a rap if lunch does get cold. Ward off these fellows for me—keep 'em humoured. And now," turning to Lorena, "I shall be pleased to follow you."
Lorena led him into the street and toward the trail. Three or four prominent citizens came along in hot pursuit; Costaine waved them back, and thus the two of them struck up the slope, saying not a word. Lorena had fought a battle, she had nothing more to offer. And the Senator seemed buried in his own thoughts. They cut off the main trail and went up the short little pathway to the cabin. The Senator looked to her inquiringly, and she motioned him inside. Tom and Quagmire apparently had seen them come, for they were standing in the centre of the room.
"Tom, this is Senator Costaine. I have told him about your trouble with the ranch. I know he can help you if you'll explain."
With that she turned about and left, hearing the dry, rasping voice of Costaine carry an abrupt question over the interval. It was almost as if the man cross-examined a witness. Lorena sat on a stump and waited. A half hour, an hour; the immaculate secretary came panting up among the trees. "Where in God's name is the Senator? What have you done with him?"
Costaine ducked out of the door, grimmer than before. The secretary spread his arms. "They're waiting for us—and you've had no lunch. It will be an all-afternoon trip into the hills. I can't allow you to neglect yourself like this, Senator!"
Costaine seemed not to hear the man. He stood a moment in front of Lorena. "My dear girl, you have rendered me a favour. I think we have got wind of something that will scorch as big a scoundrel as ever lived." Then he swung down the trail with the secretary, and she heard him giving the younger man abrupt orders. "Never mind, Nicholas, never mind. What's a meal missed? I've discovered something about Ignacius Invering's peree. He's a gone goose, Nicholas. As for the trip into the hills, that must be postponed. We start for Nelson immediately."
With Quagmire on hand to keep watch and with Tom mending swiftly—and becoming more and more impatient at each wasted hour—Lorena was relieved of her long vigil. The men slept out in the shed and took their meals in the cabin; and during the following five days she often saw them loitering in the trees, out of earshot, talking earnestly. She never intruded on these councils; rather she drew back within herself and went about those innumerable chores a woman never fails to find. If she had her worries—and she understood that as far as San Saba and Lispenard were concerned there was yet to be a day of reckoning—she kept them hidden. No matter what the future held, it could never by any stretch of the imagination deal with her as harshly as had the past month. And so she was content.
One day Quagmire went to Deadwood and returned with a horse and saddle for Tom; and for an hour the latter rode around the hills, testing himself. When he came back, he slid down with a kind of tight-lipped triumph. Still he said nothing, but she observed that Quagmire made a second trip to town for supplies. And that night at supper the puncher sent a mysterious glance at Gillette and murmured, "Well, I got it."
At breakfast the next morning Gillette seemed unusually preoccupied. Quagmire left the cabin and disappeared in the thicket; and as if that were a signal Gillette came directly to the issue. "We can't stay put any longer, Lorena. I came here to get San Saba, and instead he about got me. Well, it's just a score I'll have to leave unsettled. If I don't hustle back to the ranch I'm apt not to have one. So we've got to pull out."
She was of a sudden busy at a dozen odd things,