"Just a minute, Parker," said Embry. "Miss Corliss, you wouldn't think me rude if I asked you to leave me here? I'd like to stay at the hotel a day or so. By that time my machine will have come and I'll run back to the ranch house for a call and to get my traps, if I may? Do you know," and for a moment one of his infrequent smiles brightened his sombre eyes, "I have another hunch. And I want to find out about it."
"Concerning that man Steele?" asked Beatrice.
He nodded.
"You have never found out who is the real owner and operator of this string of gambling houses through the mountains here, have you?" he asked significantly.
Beatrice started, her suspicions pricked by the insinuation. Again Embry nodded.
"It's like his work," he said quietly, stepping out to the sidewalk. "And it would explain his plan to accumulate further property in the neighbourhood. Also, perhaps, his desire to annoy you. You have made it rocky sledding for the saloon here and for one or two others, I believe."
"Mr. Embry," said Beatrice thoughtfully, "I have no sufficient claim upon you to expect you to put yourself out—"
"Need I remind you," cut in Embry, his tone cool but hard, "of Steele's words to me in your presence a little while ago? I am going to make him pay for them. As I told you then, I think that you and I have a common cause."
While Joe Embry had but suggested that Steele was the man financing the ill-famed string of composite
